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Third Mate Third Jun 2014
You: it is 2:10 am
Me:  Eastern Standard Mystical Time, yup...
You: why are you up, writing?
Me: the drugs wore off
You: *** the drugs?
Say it ain't so, kiddo?

Me: yup, I did engage
with some strong stuff
ce soir, the woman too,
and she is drowning in her dreams.
Easy and cheap,
scored some us some................
Asian Fusion
Thai Food, Indonesian small plates...

You: idiot!
Me: just answering your question
You: so where is this poem, shaman?
Me: You!
You: Me?
Me: yup.
You are my early morning poem,
which I have entitled Notification: You!

Notification

I am deeply unsure.

Am I notifying you,
or am I notifying myself?

Lost command of my
native language,
the emotions too strong,
Blue Java
the color of my word blood,
strong swirling,
uncontaminated by cow's milk,
but by cows jumping over the moon,
who have come to give me gifts of
Notifications.

Hey ****** ******,
The Cat and the fiddle,
The Cow jumped over the moon.
The little Dog laughed,
To see such sport,
And the Dish ran away with the Spoon


Perfectly clear to me.
I am the Spoon,
You are the Dish.

(Shaman, Shaman, hey man,
you still sound drugged,
we urgent need some clarifications!)

When I wake up,
uncertain about a slew,
a portmanteau
of important life~things,
(Example: when should I
Capitalize a word,
a life, a me, a You?)


there are strangers,
Strangers still,
yet strangers no more,
sending me uncoded messages
intended to decode me,
Notifications,
they are called,

and they
Explode me.

capsules of comments
that encapsulate me,
emasculate my speaking abilities,
reduced to rolling in the gutter,
guttural cries to emit and utter,
man, I got friends I never met,
and that's ok
we just notify each other
thinking of you
and no more words necessary

life is groovy...
Nat Lipstadt Nov 2013
The Riddle

One of you has seen my face.
One of you knows where I live.
Stuff. Important stuff,
like the locale of
my hidey-holes.

My email and my
cell disclosed
soon to be
on sale on eBay
for a trifling sum.

So now I must
disburse to parts
more remote,
reappear in a
nouveau identity.

Just a necessary precaution.

Moreover, methinks
you have grown
tired of my waning voice,
waxing ineloquently,
opining too frequently.

feel like a
thick wooly straw
welcome mat,
edges unravelling,
grown raggedy,
roundabout the edges,
or like a
paperback book,
tho well thumbed,
nonetheless,
consigned to the
bye-bye
discard box.

riddle me,
me be the riddle,
when I scribe
under a new
Nom de Plume.

will you recognize,
my signature
hid amidst the
restless words that
still need a home?

are my poems
worthy of a
second glance,
do you predispose
your attentions on
your favorites only,
the newbies squeaking
ignored and unattended,
whose ranks I have
now rejoined?

did you ever meet
a poem
you did not like?
did you ever greet
a poet
with palms
outwardly raised,
saying, no mas,
had enough,
no time for you
and your
clouded clarifications?

need you.
need you to judge me,
without the saddlebags of
predisposition and imposition.

if you need me
just give me a
loud holler
in my sleepy hollow.

tho sadly my
country road,
has listening posts
on the telephone wires,
I will know, when.
you call,
your voice,
I will come,
if you ask,
always.

I'll be riddling
in plain sight,
if you have the taste
for and of me,
you will find me
soon enough.

HOWEVER,
in emergencies
all you need dial,
my digital signature,
911 and
ask for the
Poetry Hotline.
Carlo C Gomez Jan 2020
I've been sent to prism
For minor refractions
My days of frequent violets
Are now in the past
As the light in me
Is slowly emerging
Tomorrow I'll open my eyes
And find correction of vision
Mingled with distorted spectrum
When answers to puzzling questions lead only to more confusion.
Sally A Bayan Mar 2014
...Kites, Roses and Apple Pie...

In life, in deeds,
You have been, still are, courageous
In your words, in your creeds,
I say you are all so sweet,
Infectious,
You all are contagious!
Just a single line of your words
Would surely, quickly be re-quoted.
You are exemplary in
Whatever you say or do...

Enlightened are those with furrowed brows
Upon reading your works,
Commendations,
And acclamations
Bothered by ideas and words
So foreign and difficult...
Clarifications,
simple explanations
Readily are provided...
One need not ask...

Like well respected, learned leaders,
Actions, words are emulated.
You are sweet...
You are infectious...
You are contagious!

If you were colorful kites,
Soaring up the blue skies
You would have so many tails
Hanging, trailing behind you...
Here in our world
Your followers  are like ants
Trailing your footsteps...
Never straying, not at all waning,
But multiplying.....

In a bed of roses,
Bees, birds and butterflies
Would never stop fussing
Endlessly buzzing
From up above, and all around you...
Taking all their needs,
Not forgetting themselves to feed,
To recreate, from your seeds
these, they are bound to heed...

If you were a plate of fresh,
Yummy and crusty apple pie,
With a scoop of ice cream on top..
Oh me, oh, my....I am bound to starve...
Pardon me, but...
This would be my call, my turn...
Surely, I would be oblivious
The first one to be ravenous
To the point of being outrageous
Can't stop...can't wait...
This is my moment:
As long as I have a mug of hot brewed coffee
I shall take my time...
I won't feel choked,
Won't even be thirsty...
Voraciously, I would finish the whole plate off...
Til crust and crumbs fill me with too much stuff...


For the Triumvirate of Bala, Nat and Pradip...

in alphabetical order, no one comes first or last... for these three are
      all soaring high in their respective styles of poetry...


there are many others worth mentioning, a plethora of names and styles, in fact...
     the right words, the right moment would present itself to yours truly, one day...



Sally

Copyright 2014
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
***Have I veered away from the main point?...just missing, I guess...
it's been several months now without even a slice of my favorite apple pie...***
Sally A Bayan Oct 2017
...kites, roses and apple pie
(A repost from 2014...edited)


In life, in deeds,
You have been, still are, courageous
In your words, in your creeds,
I say you are all so sweet,
Infectious,
You all are contagious!
Just a single line of your words
Would surely, quickly be re-quoted.
You are exemplary in
Whatever you say or do...

Enlightened are those with furrowed brows
Upon reading your works,
Commendations,
And acclamations
Bothered by ideas and words
So foreign and difficult...
Clarifications,
simple explanations
Readily are provided...
One need not ask...

Like well respected, learned leaders,
Actions, words are emulated.
You are sweet...
You are infectious...
You are contagious!

If you were colorful kites,
Soaring up the blue skies
You would have so many tails
Hanging, trailing behind you...
Here in our world
Your followers  are like ants
Trailing your footsteps...
Never straying, not at all waning,
But multiplying.....

In a bed of roses,
Bees, birds and butterflies
Would never stop fussing
Endlessly buzzing
From up above, and all around you...
Taking all their needs,
Not forgetting themselves to feed,
To recreate, from your seeds
these, they are bound to heed...

Now,  
If you were a plate of fresh,
Yummy and crusty apple pie,
With a scoop of ice cream on top..
Oh me, oh, my....
I may not forget these three men,
But....I am bound to starve...
Pardon me, but...
Surely, I would be oblivious
The first one to be ravenous
To the point of being outrageous
Can't stop...can't wait...
This is my moment:
As long as I have a mug of hot brewed coffee
I shall take my time...
I won't feel choked,
Won't even be thirsty...
Voraciously, I would finish the whole plate off...
Til crust and crumbs fill me with too much stuff...

::::::::::::

For the Triumvirate of Bala, Nat and Pradip...

in alphabetical order, no one comes first or last... for these three are
      all soaring high in their respective styles of poetry...

there are many others worth mentioning, a plethora of names and styles, in fact...
    


Sally

Copyright 2014
rrab
*i think i strayed from my main topic....though the mere mention of apple pie takes me away...yet...I am not bound to forget good, good friends, like the triumvirate above...*
i might come off of being anonymous on this site.... with that being said however, i will probably unlink my tumblr on that bio because that's for my own private pleasure, my blog is more secret i suppose. as well as the private and anonymous twitter i have.

in any case, i guess i'll link my youtube where i release spoken word poetry videos and such if you're that curious (i'm not looking for views, i think i'm looking for a sense of openness and less secrecy here, alot of reasons really. but go ahead and check it out if you wanna, if not, that's fine too) and i'll delete some of the darker stuff off of here and make it more PG-13, in the event that i link my youtube back to this site.

also, if this happens, i am going to change my username again to match my other pages so it all links together (sorry i know every time somebody does this, or last time i did this -- i was previously known as "brooklyn baby" -- it's just very confusing)...

i am working on self publishing a book of poetic stuff also and have been busy putting together my Society 6 shop which has other art, but i'm thinking i'll scan some handwritten poems too.

so yes, i realize this is not a poem and it's crap posting, and nobody wants to read an announcement on a website specifically built for poetry, but i guess i needed to make clarifications for those of you that follow along or care about this strange little mind of mine.

sincerely yours,
a girl of little habits **

----
update: i have since updated.. link in bio is my latest spoken word poetry video.
sorry bye.
Ellie Shelley Jan 2017
God
I’ve been thinking about God lately
And whats life after death
Because I can’t get past the idea that my existence is confined to just this flesh  
I need to know if god is real
And what heaven to book a room in
Because I would rather sleep in beds with saints
Uncomfortable in sheets that aren’t my own
Rather than be caught up in the eternal damnation of my very own sins
I want to know god
Know god like I know the voice of my lover
And I want to feel gods love like the promise of salvation he wrote in the bible thousands of years ago
Because 80 years in this body isn’t enough for me
Honestly 180 or more wouldn’t make me happy
Because I want to hear the voice of my great grandpas voice again
And my pops
And
I want to see my dog
Plus all the people that will go in my life time
I can’t live with a goodbye I’m not guaranteed
I want to know if God is just some placebo put into place to bring comfort to our souls
Or if I can out my whole life into the blind faith of a man I’ve never met before
And what would eternity be like?
Is it better than leaving a legacy thats starting out as rocky as mine?
Does every day pass like a steady wind
Or does it move slow like snails crawling over blades of grass?
Will we know what forever is?
In heaven can you look down on the souls wondering around below,
Or are you in the constant worship of gods holy presence?
I need the answers to all of these questions
And clarifications for all of the possibilities
And loops holes like reincarnations
Because I’ve been thinking about death lately
And what people believe is inevitable
Because I’ve always believed in the gray muddle between lines
I can get past the idea of black and while
Life and death
God
Or nothing
fdg Aug 2013
I am wrapped entirely with passion,
the best kind, the healthy kind, the kind adults wave off as naive because they miss the feeling.

"I will never like any girl more than you," he said,
dancing with me in the kitchen.
"We'll see," I told him, and smiled as I twirled under his arm.
Eden happens now
Adam in me
Right here with Eve
Named everything
Straightened out my illusion
Millions of years ago
The thought projected
The Word sent forth the knowledge
Quantum time schemes carried the myth
For all to hear and learn
Today, this moment
We want to be like God
Knowing the knowledge of
Good and evil
Taking a bite to keep us alive
Disobedient diners
Each morning naked as a sparrow
Shame metamorphoses into sin
And only God can do anything
To bring us back together
It's cold without the warmth if His sun
So he made pelts into coats and leather into pants
To get us through the cold windy season
The first sacrifice
Blood flowed in rivers
But it never covered all
Heaven happens now
Leaving clues and reminders
For time travelers to discovers When they black hole sends them
To the generation inspired to write the myth
To add some clarifications.
We eat the fruit of the tree
Every moment and are cursed for it

The crucifixion happens now
Our souls have already passed this paradigm
The second Adam hangs bleeding on a tree
Of His own choice
It's at the foot of that cross
We hear him say the word
"Forgiven"
We won't even remember what the fruit tasted like ,
sindy Feb 2018
You say you love me,
You say you understand,
You say you will follow,
You say many things,
And i trust you !

But how can i be so sure when you escape all fights, all clarifications of situations ?
Why do we work so hard when we don't even know if it would work longer ?
Even if you react,
it won't change anything,
it won't make people suddenly respect you,
people won’t trust your words soon,
it won't make people care for you,
it won't magically change their minds for you.
Sometimes it is better to let things be the way they are.
Let people go if they don't want to stay.
You cannot expect people to understand you every time.
People always don't get to know where you're coming from.
Chasing for answers and asking for clarifications will mentally suffice you,
But what about emotional stability?
You must not stick yourself onto what is happening around you.
This process of not letting things affect you, is a very slow process.
There is no need to rush yourself in this learning because it will make you
not bother with things for time being.
If you want to be happy, let this be a slow process of learning.
- Aishwarya Kulkarni
As I sit and sip my tea
looking out at this wet day
I'm wondering how I'll find my way

Rain falls so effortlessly
my head as cloudy as the sky
thoughts blurred behind anxious eyes

I'm all locked up in fear
will I ever become able
to live my life free and stable

My teapot empty now
the sky a clear sunny blue
I think my hope has been renewed

My head clear from all my doubt
the glories of a rainy day
seem to take my blue funk mood away
Johnny Noiπ Nov 2018
American singers, ambassadors and red carpets,
rocks, trees and waves, including the Australian theater,
love, courtroom, love of Islam and Titan's home theater,
women and tourists in the United States are changing.
Modern and immoral modern styles. The best way to get
to know the city was to ask the city. Some Jewish
horsemen are in the cemetery. In the United States,
in the United States, Kenya, the first in cats of dogs
and dogs, Eric's generators, powerful weapons,
red or pink, red or green, four musicians, four students
in Iran complicated matters and has a friend,
but it can be Latin and Latin. They say stories of terrorist
women and have a real impact on the back of the ball,
and the world's shortest daily climate
is worth keeping in mind the value of the world,
your fingers, your control and the way you reach Juan.
My good horse is a horse for me, horse 1, 1 right 1.
When Joseph sees, he sees and falls.
At the end of the four names we read the most popular animal
of all ages every year. Another source of information
is Kangera's mother, girls' gagaliya,
red, Kenya, hairstyle toys, marina quality,
200 odd sea in Italy 200. Yokinichi is the power.
Female love Australia 1; Justin and the U.S.
And the famous lawyers like tourists, a singer,
musician and the US, oceans, rocks, trees
and ACLU waves are not immune to the waves.
"These are all territories in the United States.
In the United States, Kenya, Ravi supports the day and night,
cats and dogs. RV, all major weapons,
red, green and Iranian are very modern for it,
Adom, green for and other friends,
textile and Other friends, Latin Latin cats,
they have to talk about hate and fire stories
and I hope that Einstein, Kennedy,
Vitamin A, and Italian in Canada
Due to major issues like theima, there will be 100 deaths
in Canada due to the fact that in Canada,
there will be 100 deaths in the country,
according to sources, gang and brain red,
red, purple, silk and cotton. And there
are different people, and their friends,
but the topic is focused, the fourth part,
but overall urban strategies and security
at the same email on the www. PVD,
200 [200], Mo For shipyards, for several months,
America condemns the Greek-American and Latin.
Despite the death of a partner,
pineapple problems are a problem.
George is known for the costly doctors
and symbols in Indonesia. Robotics Design
Pittsburgh and John, Fire, Fire or Moth
Successful home success in training.
Red, red, red, red, silk, after four years
all the clarifications were read but not in Latin America,
George and Italy, 200 and 200 years.
You can see images of robots
who face the long-term conscience crisis.
Kenya's image Yakutie 4487/5000 defeats the exploitation.
Australia has been charged that in Amman,
the US Canttas, museums and Esther Eldon
Lois Naciones have been investigated
in the UNIDAS case, they do not spend much time with others,
but there are no more than 13 hours
of footage in Australia and Australia. . .
I have so much love for my life in this country.

— The End —