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ern kingham Aug 2014
Words hit you like a wave
Over and under and through your head
They swirl around you like the wind in a storm
Making you think more than you have ever thought
Giving you feelings you haven’t felt, in a long time
Phrases that make you laugh, cry, wonder
Connect with the world around you
With other people
And friends
And family
But most of all
You with yourself
You remember feeling
Sadness, joy, weakness
Pain, Stereotyped, Repressed
Just what he described, like he said
His words fill up your heart, your mind
Your soul remembers how it felt to hurt
To feel happy, to be scared, to live
and love not just another person
not just family and friends
But yourself
Poetry, it brings you out
Out of your shell, or your cage
Or your box, It breaks down the walls
that keeps in everything you’ve never said
But you’ve wanted to say so badly
For poetry is you, your heart and soul
Written down in words you want no one to see
But you want everyone to read, just like you  
Want no one to hear your thoughts
But everyone to listen
Thats what poetry is
Emotion in its purest form
A construct of your thoughts
On paper, a form of record
That will always be yours
But also someone else’s
Because you cannot be selfish
With words you must be willing to share
And the brilliance of the words must not be
confused with obscurity, but a warning: they will be
Not everyone understands what passion and gusto that
Words are made with, spoken with, written with
But I did, I felt the passion, I felt the wave
And so I stand at the edge of the sea
Of words, waiting for some to hit me
and inspire my inner brilliance
Carlo C Gomez Jan 2020
Your fine eyes and lively wit
first caught his attention,
your light, lush figure
he discerned upon closer inspection.

You then had the audacity
to speak your mind,
to tell your unwanted suitor
where to go.

Nonetheless, what did he find?
A young lady brimming
with charm and intelligence,
a country girl of unrivaled specialness.

And hither came his letter,
an eye-opening missive,
a charitable benediction
that proved redemptive.

Here your prejudice began to be
worked on for the better,
its constant hold relenting
until it unfettered altogether.

His agony of rejection
soon warred against his pride,
his ardency for you
could not be denied.

A chance encounter
and you were
at once astonished
at what your heart did reveal,

his intense stare warmed your cheeks,
his kind words
and acts of goodness
then sealed the deal.

You could love no other.
And in this blissful denouement
you agreed to become his wife and lover.
Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy, Mistress of Pemberley...
To the remarkable writer Jane Austen and the wonderful 1995 BBC mini-series "Pride & Prejudice." Kudos to Colin Firth and Jennifer Ehle, forever the best Darcy and Elizabeth!
Hal Loyd Denton Jan 2012
A standard man
This man we must remembered how would we have survived at the pool without his soda pops just a short walk to Mr. Johnson’s
Standard gas station always greeted by his quiet nature always seemed to be happily beaming his uniform his farm service shirt
And pants right inside the door there it set the big red coke machine setting so perfectly huge bulging with all kinds of refreshments
Especially Grapett Radar might have had Nehigh but we had grapett the man matched his manly station with easy conversation
And an easier smile his station lasted the longest after Beno and Rock Bennet’s went out and were torn down on the corner of Hickory
And Jackson and Hilyards going out of town on twenty nine east just past the Bear creek road maybe it was even his decision to tear it
Down but what a shame all that took its place was a bare spot we already lost the above ground swimming pool that was the
Unchallenged pearl of central Illinois now we have a ground level pool and some sheds to replace something that was so grand
This like Mr. Johnson he can’t be replaced nor would we want to they should name that spot his corner we can’t just keep losing
Great friends like him and Jack Jeffrey’s and others and seemingly go oh well there goes another one forty nine years that’s a lot of
Soda pop and more happy kids that was touched by this special man’s life he proved and improved hospitality over the years
With simple application to the golden rules smile a handshake service that was endearing Andy Griffith became famous for portraying
Such a man true to a fault agreeable principled a man that was a credit all those years to his community I will always recall him with
Fondness I was gone from here for thirty years but I purposely looked him up and was so happy to find him doing well the station
just a memorable mile stone in Pana’s history I know those long ago summers would have had a large hole if he hadn’t been at his
Post he will be sadly missed and never forgotten he had charm as long as a long warm summer day walk in kick back life even as a kid
Would slow and fall into gentle rhythms a cold bottle in your hand went well with soft conversation through the windows would float
The sounds of kids going full blast at the pool eventually they would stream in through the door take time making memories like so
Many of us have of this special place and this man just a gas station but so very much more an indelible mark added to your soul
While summer slipped by a marker shared by so many young and old just four walls where happy moments were made and will always
Endure thanks Mr. Johnson
Not even Juliet,
Nor even Elizabeth Bennet,
Could makest this heart sin.
It is only you,
And only you makest
This heart see one.
One that could destruct
One that could build
Only one that could summarize
All emotions to one.
Because you,
You my darling!
Is my painting Liza
Of the masterpiece,
My Joan of Arc,
In the field of battle.
And the Cleopatra
Of this heart like pyramid.

So it is shall by intent,
That my heart is at best yours.
Promised that,
Not even storm,
Not even plague,
Not even starvation
Nor death,
Could separate my life with yours.
I wrote this because I was bored looking at the ceiling
Carlo C Gomez Feb 2020
Ever since I moved to a different time period, I get the strangest mail.

Letters commissioning Michelangelo
to paint the Sistine Chapel.

Elizabeth Bennet's missive to her aunt
promising pony cart rides at Pemberley.

Long lost IRS tax forms belonging to Abbott and Costello.

Leonardo Da Vinci’s Job Application to the Duke of Milan.

Even Grace Bedell's charming correspondence to Abraham Lincoln, suggesting he grow a beard.

I should have known something was up once I discovered Karl Malone was my mailman.
One of these letter writers is fictional. Know which one?
Ana Mar 2021
our love wasn't some
basketball player and
cheerleader story,

it was written on pages
of an old book.

you were my Mr.Darcy,
and I was your Elizabeth
Bennet.

I liked our love,
it was old and meaningful.

but you wanted new,
so I flattened the pages
of the book, and cleaned
the cover.

but still,
you picked the girl
whose novel shined the
brightest in the stories.
Colm Jan 2021
Wit is only as valuable as
the appropriateness of mind which
can begin to be, and thought of when
     For want of all moxie
     For the stress of all scholars
Implied
Ms. Bennet, Ms. Bennet, Ms. Bennet, Ms. Bennet and Ms. Bennet
Iris Rebry Jun 2014
Your wit
Is like the wick of a stick of dynamite
Quick, sharp, explosive
You laugh and I laugh with you.
Such terrible creatures,
Mr. Collins, lizzy Bennet.
All figures of your brain.
Stay with me Jane.
I need your help.
I need your advice, your wisdom
Of such things,
Dangerous things,
As love.
Do not hide from me.
But give me your passion.
Help me to save Ms. Smith
And be the Emma I knew I could be
And do not let poor be by herself
But be with her.
Write her a gentleman,
Write her true love
Write a new story.
For me
Arya Sep 2019
To me,
you are Elizabeth Bennet,
spirited, warm-hearted and smart.
In every way.
And every way in between.

You hold a place in my heart,
that no one else can even remotely possibly imagine to fill.

In the best of times,
we make the worst team.
Our big sister seems not to know
Still, she tries so hard to fix us
Guide us to be a better version of ourselves.

Don't let this world weigh you down
you just gotta continue to fly upwards.

and
Remember that I am forever at your side,
whether you need me or not.

Remember that I am here.
Right here.
For you.

You are my sister.
and I love you.
#happybirthday
Austen girl Sep 2016
I'm in a state of disrepair
Switched off all the lights
Stayed beneath these layers
Hoping days would turn into nights
And the count would cease..

Can't even stand to look at you
face won't hide what I'm going through
I'm mad at myself for being
Life was better when I wasn't feeling
Now it's all too much
And tears are always close enough to touch..

Can't blame
Blissful ignorance
Elizabeth bennet blindness
Tore a hole in me

And I'm left wishing
I'd never learned to use my heart
The trouble I've been through
I hope it's worth it
Monica Mar 2018
Sometimes my phone sends me an error message.
“Storage almost full,” it tells me.
“Your device may not function properly.”
My device and my mind have that in common.

Words march across pages, grabbing me and
pulling me in, but in the end I am left in
the real world with the stories I have consumed
swimming in my mind. The words are a part of me.

Tattooed on the insides of my eyelids.

When I close my eyes, I am Jo March.
I have sold my hair. It was my one beauty.
Beauty is important because my sisters and
I are supposed to be Little Women.

When I close my eyes, I am Sal Paradise.
Dean Moriarty and I talk for hours.
We dig everything from New York to
‘Frisco, as we continue On the Road.

When I close my eyes, I am Lizzy Bennet.
Mr. Darcy has snubbed my family and myself,
and I hate him. But I love him. If only the two of
us weren’t filled with such Pride and Prejudice.

When I close my eyes, I am Hermione Granger.
I am the brightest witch of my age, and only I
have read Hogwarts, A History. Without me,
there probably would be no Harry Potter.

When  I close my eyes, I see the error message.
“Storage almost full,” it tells me.
“Your device may not function properly.”
So I open my eyes.

Who am I?
Dathin19

Once I got release from the dungeon
Born in the tundra sound the thunder
I flash like a lightening strikes in the dark
Shadow figure there but disappear
Once the lightening clears
Got my critics soul brittle turns bigs into little once I release my rhymes it's official
Roughin' terrains with my steel bristles
Check my Valentine's massacre picture
Quoted  though scriptures
Thou father which art soon be part
Bring light to dark like a spark
To a fire
I be blazing empire reaching for higher
Destination waxin' nation' without facin'
Or tasting consequences of remorse
Connected to the source mother earth grew hoarse so I finish the course
Vocals run through emcees like a porshe
Turbo power every hour my brain showered
Til I'm flooded with thoughts leave victims distraught rippin' through words stick like a dart I'm off the chart
Welcome to Houston where jackin'stay lootin' girls tootin'
***** when I'm coming through makin' drug snafus blasting through crews
Rakin' venues enticin' ghetto blues snooze to loose take another sip of the purple *****  
My minds loose no screws in it I break gimmicks and emcess that mimics
Lay laws like State Senate fools get plugged like Bennet
Let off some steam pipe dreams
Things ain't waht it seems
Once you step to a commando with verbal ammo no need for camo
I turn basso into saprano lay more keys than a paino Luciano
Real estate makin' earth quakes once my rhymes in the make
It's all good smoke blackwoods feelin' good
As enemies taste the back woods
Worms for ya food soul elude know be crude
My mental state like Tom Cruise
And Stalin or ****** extract ya dentures where no one could fix ya  then snap ya picture
Without the use of camera my berretas accurate
Subraction you get once the click hits
Another cold body for a casket unmask it
My ****** approach you a Gabriel
But not a friendly ghost close to the coast
My heaters love to toast but never boast
Make best out of the worse breakin' the curse
Definitive dieties completed me
Nothing but them spirits lacin' me
Givin' me God like abilities takin' over mental monopolies

— The End —