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Joe Workman Jul 2017
I could write you more, you know.
And I would, but it feels wrong to.
I could call you, too, but again...
Look, I love you, okay, and
there's no way around that,
no hiding from it.
I know that in this life
we can't be a thing.
That really makes me want the next life,
but I'm also scared there won't be one.
It's a ******* mess, really.
I'm a ******* mess.
I don't let you see it, though;
I pretend I'm good at being friends.
Have I fooled you?
No, of course not.
I am thankful, though, that you
don't rub it in.
You are kind.
You are a rarity.
And so I pine, don't I?
Spending so much time wishing while
spending so much time afraid of that wish coming true.
Reality is the biggest letdown and
I know that I am a close second to it.
And if you ever read this, isn't it attractive to see such a ****** man, complaining about things he could change but won't?
I hate this more than a lot of things:
my unwillingness to do what's best for me at the expense of others.
This isn't pretty or poetry,
but it's honest, and I wish you knew I write here.
Deb Jones Dec 2018
A little Asian man
Stood at the counter

He rung up my purchase as my then lover put a male scarf on the countertop

My lover said
Hey babe, Mind buying this for me?

I said sure. Just as the Asian man raised his eyes to meet mine.

His face was expressionless
But his dark inscrutable eyes, which normally I would find difficult to read without an expression to pair....

But I read his eyes as if he were writing words in the air.

Why are you buying that for him?
I thought “It’s only twenty five dollars”

Why does price matter? He asked
“I have the money.
It’s not an issue.”

When was the last time he bought something for you?
“Well, today he bought me orange juice.”

But didn’t you give him the money for it?
“Yes, but...”

But what?

I looked at my lover and instead of telling him the truth I told him I didn’t have the money for it.

Immediately moving my eyes to meet the Asian mans.

I think my lover was embarrassed because I said this in front of the man.

Instead of agreeing he argued. Does it take 2 to argue? Not in this instance.

I paid for my purchase and knowing my lover had money in his wallet I asked him if he still wanted the scarf.

He knew I also had money in my wallet.
So as he understood the question
To mean I was now prepared to buy the scarf for him

He enthusiastically replied yes.

The Asian man’s eyes never left my face.

I told, the man I knew was never going to warm my bed again, that no, I really didn’t want to spend the money.

His face turned red. I could hear the redness in his voice.
“What a ****** thing to do”

The Asian man’s eyes finally left my face and looked at the man I was with.

And he finally spoke.
“May you live in interesting times”

I was slightly disappointed that he had not wished such a blessing to me.

It was only after thinking about it for awhile that day that I realized he actually cursed him.

For me I realized uninteresting meant happiness and peace
Larzipan Sep 2014
My lips can no longer hold back.
The muted tones cannot bring out the infinity that hides
to an exit sign.
Certainty waves goodbye. My only function now is to collapse it.
To put the past behind.

The barred doors allow the bottleneck to tighten for a few hours,
but memory has a way of sounding the alarm in the morning
when the early birds rise,
armed with ancient lessons
that remind me they're the ones who are eating well.

I want to come up from the dirt and drink from the well.
My low-life self can no longer heed the worm's advice:
"Sleep all day and you won't get eaten."


Out with your tepid voice and halfway disposition.
Out with your elevated mind, your profound commitment to the mediocre task
of enlightening the little people.

The empire you fabricate may stay stitched for a while.
But the clothes of emperors always burst at the seams.
A workaholic, addicted to the common
you're winning your converts with tired dreams, vicarious imaginings of those finer roads, well tread by shoes that are not your own.
You don't believe in the masses. Fine. But get the *******
your throne.

Reciting badly drawn poems at four in the morning
(it could have been worse e.g. I could have wrote "mourning")
looking to insight myself,
not into a passionate frenzy
like Bacchae drunk on the moonlight.
No -- I want piercing red. That's what I want to be.
Want to show the heavens how I use the precious wine.
Sip it.
Out the undulations go.
Sweating out the great myth that time forgets when it flows.

My pagan-witch ego has put me on the hunt for blood tonight,
and the full moon is giving rise to ****** undulations,
washing up teeny-book explanations
of loves once lost.
But I'm far from my being,
and from the infinite ocean.
And the only sound I can hear right now is my one hand clapping at the curtain call,
retiring my broom,
bowing goodbye.
Brent Kincaid Jul 2018
Looking up, seeing you again
It makes me feel so tired.
Here you are to ruin another day
How can I ever be inspired?
Now every time I see you makes me wish I was blind.
Because you stimulate no peace of mind.

You make me feel
You make me feel
You make me feel
Like a ****** old woman!

Years ago, you and I ran aground
Wiping out on love's breakers
I tried to fix things, tried to wake you up
But all pleas fell on deaf ears.
Sometimes a couple can turn into a joke
Impossible to fix something so badly broke.

You make me feel
You make me feel
You make me feel
Like a ****** old woman!
(With apologies to Carole King, Gerry Gofflin and Aretha Franklin)
Onoma Mar 24
love woke--

and broke into


walking barefoot

on grass, trampling the

rising stadium-distillates

of dewy beads.

sparks to her heels, many-winged

as leafs to a tree.

Indra's ****** mistress,

recalcitrant glory


What was her name?
A diminutive of something
Or a shortening.
And I don’t even think that I am close

I miss you.

a small concrete table
a group of girls
Smoking and smoking and smoking
Trading lipgloss
I don’t remember what we talked about

But I do remember that the meds made you so
“Are you gonna eat that?”

That’s how it begins in such places
Passing off a cig
Or trading processed food
Or just giving it away.

Have a lie down
or hand over the pill stored in your cheek
for someone

You said after your second plateful of anything
Make sure you let me know if I start getting fat

I tried not to follow you around
We had breakfast
Cigarette breaks
lunch and dinner
I could have sat with you all day and night

But I let you roam like a yearling
talking too much to too many people
Spinning around in the hallways
The skinny girl
on the floor doing a striptease on her back
in the streaming sunlight
I could tell
That you got paid for this at some point
Even the imaginary boa scared these boys

You loved to talk about God
I, however, do not

You loved a ****** ******
They were your favorite
and would reminisce with the junkies
Always sitting close-by
You claimed that you could make a man cry
By what you could do to his body
I can only imagine
what you’ve done so far
At your age
and you have a kid

I know
that you’re frightened
to be alone
with your mother
She’s so small
You wouldn’t want to hurt her

And I see her
that one time
with candies and soda
that you made her bring from
the 99 cent store to share
with all these people that don’t like you
and she is
a tiny thing
anyone could crush her
I see your point.


I can’t remember your name

You’d wake me for breakfast
Or I you
You said the voices never stop in your head
Not just voices but other strange noises too
You acted like it was
a drag
But in fact you were **** scared

I can hear sounds too I offered
And Strings
Faint Voices calling my name
Offering succinct advice
Can’t everyone?
Leaning against a wall
with you at my feet
I saw your head snap
To the right
I said
Don’t worry
I heard that too
And you were so relieved
You grasped my feet in gratitude

You said that you are three.
Dread is the bad one
a male
And another
a ****** female who’s name
I can’t remember either
I suggested that there were more
I met the ***** and I did not like her
at all
In anger I returned your sweatshirt
And you said
You know she’s terrible
I told you that
Take back the shirt
It’s cold

The men here don’t understand
They assume that it’s lovey
Their minds are blown by
Companionship in difficult circumstances
Holding hands might help you through
You never know until you try

You loved to have arguments over the Bible
I would make a lot of noise to shut it down
I cannot listen to that
You would talk on that phone on the wall
With the father of your child
About god
You missed your boy’s
first day
of kindergarten
You called him on that phone to make sure that he got the plastic truck
or some such toy in your absence

I wonder when you gave up your life
When an injection of Ativan in your ***
and a night
In an darkened empty room
became an ideal resolution.
You couldn’t figure out
why you had a lump on your head
And I explained that
it was the result of
banging it repeatedly
against the wall.
Side effects of Lorazepam include:
Little recall

You seemed to have a plan.
Visiting and writing up the coast
The Dean Moriarty of Hospitals
But what about your kid?
The doctors say you can’t leave until you’re well
I couldn’t even tell what’s wrong exactly
Or what he’s really trying to tell you
Other than too much too soon
But that’s every girl in LA
Isn’t it?
You said that
Emerged at age 24.

I think about your son.
I can’t believe that you have one.
And your mother
Who adopted you.
What did she in fact bring home?


When they called to say that my car was here
That I could go
You covered my neck
With kisses
And said Thank You Thank You
I Don’t Know
What I Would Have Done Without You

What is your name?

Just the letter.
I remember
Thank you.
PoserPersona Jul 2018
You are my love light of summer.
  For this I wade through winter.
Glowing 'bove, the trees are greener;
  blooming nascent desire

of which I never knew I'd need
  let alone make a heart bleed
girl, you got me on both my knees
  praying you'll also need me,
too, to finally be complete
  or otherwise reach life's peak.

Your hair stills heart's rhythmic meter.
  For this I wish forever.
Strands spun with goddess gossamer;
  softer than touch of mother

of which I never knew I'd need
  let alone cause ex's envy
girl, you got her so **** ******
  she blames you as much as me,
too, as love for you made her weep
  and revealed her love is cheap

Your voice humbles angel choirs.
  For this I listen eager.
Songs that shift the course of rivers;
  in harmony with nature

of which I never knew I'd need
  let alone so romantically
girl, you got me frantically
  writing you some poetry,
too, and I hope you now can see
  that maybe I'm also sweet

Your soul ignites wildfire.
  For this I bear the pleasure.
Ethereal flames dance together;
  fueled by spiritual tethers
of which I never knew I'd need
  let alone spark fantasies
girl, you got me crying, "please, please!"
  that you never take the lead,
too, cause this would be a done deed
  if you wanted it to be.
Sketcher Nov 2018
I ran like I said I would,
Something I never thought could,
Possibly happen to someone like me,
A depressed sailor that is lost at sea,
It's mid-day, but it's so cold,
Out in this dumb tale untold,
My mom has probably called the police,
And tried to put my sisters minds at ease,
By telling them some white lie,
So they don't worry and cry,
Probably tried calling all of my friends,
Which might just cause a reaction which sends,
Their parents out to find me,
This is realistically,
The current outcome of this sad, sad day,
Maybe I am also lost in my ways,
Just like my eldest sister,
Gives two *****, but I still missed her,
When she was at the mental hospital,
Doesn't have a way to cope, like riddles,
Poems, playing music or just listening,
Acts ******, but wants to grow up and sing,
Then there is the step-brother and father,
A couple ***** I try to not bother,
With even though I have to live with them,
Living is ******* bile, mucus, and phlegm,
All mixed into one "delicious" dessert,
Continue eating but it ******* hurts,
As I'm freezing in the cold and writing,
I think I realized the lie I'm fighting,
Maybe I'm trying to see who still cares,
Mainly the girl in all of my nightmares,
I dream of her at least once every night,
Nothing scary either, never a fright,
Dreams of fairly normal activities,
No matter what it is, puts me at ease,
Because her presence is what I care for,
That's how I know it's love deep in my core,
Boiling for someone who doesn't love me,
At least that is how I've come to perceive,
The relationship between me and her,
A lovely ***** that is obsessed with fur,
Sometimes I like to see how long I can,
Go on in a poem without the mention,
Of heartbreak or the heartbreaker, Heather,
As fierce as a lion, yet a feather,
Something delicate, couldn't hurt a soul,
But could tear a heart and let em' just roll,
On with life and never mention a thing,
Like there was nothing there, like it don't sting,
I guess I failed and I mentioned her name,
I am the only person that's to blame,
I might just attempt round two tomorrow,
Meanwhile, leave me to drown in my sorrow.
Wrote this during my first and last day of running away.

— The End —