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Cherry Cupcake May 2013
We can't seem to communicate like a normal pair
Arguing, yelling, ignoring each other
How am I supposed to believe you even care
While our once innocent love slowly threatens to smother

Blaming others for your own cruel deeds
Forgetting the rainbows we have been through
Neglecting your wife and children's needs
It's all black and white now, no color seems true


Daddy's yelling, mommy cries
Something about money and lies
Tomorrow is their 20th aniversary
What magic could she buy to make her parents happy?
To see their smiles again at dinner time
To hear them ask if she's doing fine

She grabs a sheet of snow white paper
Her pencils and some glitters
Draws a  rainbow and a light pink lily
All they need is some color in this family


Y.
Joe Cole Feb 2014
They shall not grow old, as we that are left grow old
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn
At the going down of the sun, and in the morning
We will remember them
The wonderful words of Robert Binyon written 100 years ago


The great war, the war to end all wars....but still it goes on
The weeping mother, the sob of a wife and still the dyings not done

I've seen it and done it, left mothers to weep, left a wife with a fatherless child
But!!! I was quicker on the trigger, he's dead and I'm still alive
There's no glorification in the things I have done, no poking my chest out with pride
I had to do it, it had to be done or I was the one who would have died
Can we still squander the youth of our lands in a fight not even our own
Why must we still kneel to the political will?! Why can't we have minds of our own
I'm not proud, don't boast about the things that I've done but I'm nstill alive in the place I call home...
Michael Parish Nov 2015
The seductive ghost at the wheel of my fire bursting finger tips still an  old silvery soul ricketing the shutters delicatly.  your lauph bursting across our living room like tiny bubbles, little birds flapping their pink feet above  magnolias.  What a whisp of beauty it is to still know how much we care for eachother.
H Nov 2011
To the boy in the library
I see you every night
With your grey jacket and chemistry book
You're always quite a sight

Did you know I choose my table
Just carefuly so?
I sit facing the way you come in
So I'm always in the know.

The way you walk in
The way your hips just flow
And the way you open your chemistry book
So sure of what you already know

To the boy in the library
We have the same books
Which means the same classes
I think that'll be my hook.

That'll be what I bring up
When I see you next
Because I'm sure I'll have the courage then
And I won't be so perplexed

It'll be what I say
When I find the words
To string together
To come out in herds

It'll be what's said
When I finally get up
From my table
To ask you what's up

It'll be the start of our story
A cloud of romance
It'll be what we whisper
During our wedding dance

It'll be what's told
To our little kings and queens
It'll be our anecdote
When our aniversary hits seventeen

At least that's what it will be
When I get the words right
When I say them with a smile
Some other lucky night

Until then though,
I'll choose my seat just so
In the basement of the library
with the dim lighting glow.
Whit Howland Jun 2021
A clear blue sky
marbled with a wisp
of clouds

and the bubbles
how could we not remember
the bubbles

my tuxedo your dress
the chapel peopled with those we love
and other guests

the pictures the fountain of punch
the cake smeared
across our faces

a wise man once said
the most important thing
to remember

is not to forget

whit howland © 2021
Happy Anniversary to my lovely wife.
jennifer ann Aug 2014
i love the freckles on your back,
the way you smile and just stare,
making me feel like i'm walking on air,
i love that goofy way you laugh.

driving around with you and acting stupid,
losing track of time, the amazing feeling that i get,
when your lips touch mine.

lying next to you,
feeling safe in your embrace,
i feel like my heart has finaly found a home,
blissfuly lost in time and space.

you, are the sid to my nancy.
the glen to my maggie.
you're the david to my darlene.
the ***** in my soda
the peanut butter to my jelly.
you came into my life like a beautiful sunset
after a tornado, and you never cease to amaze me.

& you're better than anything i've ever ever dreamed of my love,
it's our 2 year aniversary, and i've never felt so passionate, safe,
beautiful or happy. then i do, dancing & laughing with you. bullshitting and being lazy, smiling from ear to ear, shouting at random peole,
acting dumb having fun and being crazy, ane i pray that it's this way for an eternity, because nothing is better than when you and i are together,
or the way those big brown eyes light up when you look at me. i'm so happy that you're my baby.
i dunno
betterdays Jul 2017
the ache in my heart
remains undiminished
pressed down by daily need
compacted into that small blemish
that scars my soul, the tattoo of emptiness
written upon the reverse of my eyelids

this is the season of loss,
the time of letting go
yet in my heart I cannot,
I acknowledge the leaving
partake once again in the grieving,
but still I know
my heartstrings still seek yours
and now people wonder,
which lover have I lost
no lover no,no, in one sense, more indeed
but we both know if we were of Sappho's breed
we could have, no would have been each other's creed
the north south and compass complete..
but we were not born that way,
the gods at play made us for different fellows
so we became friends then sisterkin,
we were joyful for each others loves, each others success,
we were together blessed with understanding deep, deepest, over tea smoked and steeped we leapt
and climbed to highest heights
and supported each other when
we fell to the depths below...
we gave each othermgrace and kindness,
perfected the art of compassionate blindness,
and then you had to  up and go,
leaving me bereft in a way
that sees life in a far more muted way

so on that day,  the aniversary of sadness
which even if the sun shines bright,
still to me is tinted grey,
I will again take myself to a quiet place,
and drink lots of gin and a little tonic,
smile cry and become slightly, mildly histronic,
you see now three years on I just discovered
whilst your face is clear
I can hardly hear,
your voice in my head,
it is now like a whisper in my ear,
and so it appears the world,
sisterkin dear,  
is making itself abundantly clear....
you are dead,  lying dead in a box...
and again I am left to ponder,Stoppards thoughts
" Dying is not romantic, and death is not a game which will soon be over...Death is not anything...Death is not...It's the absence of presence, nothing more...the endless time of never coming back...a gap you can't see, and when the wind blows through it, it makes no sound"
(Rosencrantz and Guildenstern  are Dead, Tom Stoppard)
jennifer ann Aug 2015
you make me feel feelings, i have never felt.
just a smile from you and i completely melt.
i could stare at you for days, i could hold
you for years, when i'm lost in your gaze,
this whole world just dissapears.

you hold my heart in your hands,
i hope you understand,
i'll always stand by you
and do for you whatever i can.

my love for you runs deeply
deeper than the deepest sea,
i could never put into words,
just what it is that you do to me.
happy three year aniversary.
Meggn Alyssa Jun 2014
Day 1
hours of driving
and winding cords to backseats
so I don't disconnect just yet

This place is strange
and sleep refuses my proposal
so hours away
you talk me into dreams

Day 2
wake to a whistling kettle

run down bars
and thrift store
beckon the coins from my pocket
bag the treasures

Scan the local stores
burn dinner... almost
card games are seeds for laughter
and I befriend sleep at 11

Day 3
Rise early
read
read
read
shower with water that is metallic in my nose
read
hours of driving to big(ger) cities
experiment with knobs and shutter speeds
$40 wasted to see bears in captivity
good lunch
bad cake
happy aniversary mom and dad
how guilty would I feel to reconnect right now?
Read
sleep early?
the gears in my head turning, fast
More days to come later....
Whit Howland Jun 15
Like
pond water

agitated
with a stick

that
became muddy

we were

but are much
clearer now

and no journey
was ever necessary

you and I made a home
right here

at the edge
among the reeds
A word painting with a straightforward message.

— The End —