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Lydia May 2018
"But what if we're wrong?"
It was silent
But her thoughts echoed around in my head as we laid on top of her pickup truck
I swatted at the eighteenth mosquito chewing on my leg
I don't want this to be love

We were tangled up in the acoustic music they play on the radio on Sunday mornings
She was trying to dream up something clever to write about
And I was pretending I could learn to play guitar through osmosis,
As if blending myself in with the harmonies, finding her in every lyric, and sheer willpower would give me wings or at least magic guitar hands

She set the alarm, checked it over and over
She was not going to be late for her first day
I told her I'd be asleep when she got home, she told me she knew
I told her to wake me up

I wasn't looking for perfect
Perfect really only applies in first year physics courses
After that, we learn to fall in love with "rough around the edges" or "unique" or "unfinished"
As if their life is a puzzle that we need to complete
Just so you know, it isn't

She bought me breakfast and dropped me off
She used to tell me she loved me, but I know she didn't
She does now, so she doesn't have to say it anymore
When I said, "love," before, I didn't really mean it
Not like I mean loving the garden on the balcony of her apartment or thunderstorms in May
Even if I was a puzzle that she completed (and I'm not saying that I am), we didn't need any glue to fit perfectly
The support on this poem has been unbelievably incredible. I am so grateful for this community with all of these lovely people :)

Please comment :)
resemblance between you two is uncanny
when you guys smile it is freaking pretty

the city of love wants to see your fortunateness
it doesn't bother the ancient french peonies

they're happy for you, just about to bloom      
don't forget to stop by Disneyland for some fun

the city never became this romantic for anyone    
rain sounds like violin and you guys are vibin'
under the stars, with the smell of chocolate croissant
now you are going to the Eiffel tower's restaurant

merci beaucoup lovers
come back sooner than fires

hope you guys stay together
cause you seem good for each other



Muhammed Emin KUŞASLAN
Thank u for reading.

To see "the couple in Paris" and also
to see my other poetries you can check this link.
https://muhammedeminkusaslan.blogspot.com/

My instagram: @eminkusaslan

Take care **  -E
Eleni Jul 2017
With her cowpoke
She went riding out with him
One dark and windy day.

The desert had forsaken their love and left their hearts astray.

As sharp as a cactus' spine, her lips did pine for days.

They sat around their victim's pyres tasting burnt bone, curdled blood.

She saw the mess of her cowpoke, blonde and brown beauties layed in the mud.

She asked why must these girls die
If their looks were truly good
He mumbled that his heart had been broken by the stormy flood.

So they swept across Arizona with it's bright windy haze
And withdrew their revolvers with eyes that met in gaze

They downed a couple of beers in the dusky saloon
Until right in front of them was the old rusty moon

Tonight she will riding out in the ****** lands
Where with her man she'll be soaking her rigid hands

In wine that oozes from the corpses in the sands
And in the sheets ridin' she'll take command.
Just a crazy cowboy song I wrote inspired by 'Riders in the Sky'. It basically describes a cowpoke couple who are murderers in the desert and their anti-platonic, ****** relationship.
Logan Robertson Nov 2018
What the fork is going on
We argue all knife long
The table settings a froze
What the fork is going on
Can't we at least spoon
A ladle here, a ladle there
What the fork is going on
We argue all knife long

Logan Robertson

11/30/2018
There were many a night it rained and the weather outside was fine.
maddy lynda Oct 2018
i wasn't sure if it was love
i was so wrong last time
i couldn't trust my heart
it wasn't until
i realised
that she's just as broken as me
and i held her shaky hand
and i kissed her shaky face
then i knew
for my beautiful girlfriend <3
Umi Feb 2018
Mixing tea, let's say lavender with something as simple as milk
Must sound silly and weird at first glance, as both come with their
own tastes and flavors which seem to not match at all.
Even the most unmatching couple can find bliss, harmony and
perfection in their very relationship, however.
Such as for the tea;

The milk manages to soften, embrace, advertise the taste of lavender
while leaving a pleasant aftertaste which is alike a ghost poorly
detectable, but present nonetheless after all.
With some sugar to sweeten this experience, it becomes divine,
something I would never have thought of, of such an odd couple.
The image of the lavender becomes overdrawn by the milk,
Engaging in a pure, creamy, brief white which reflects light just
in a majestic sense.
This is a taste to become lost in whilst reading a book in the best
of lightings, together with someone who causes your heart to race
and just turn ablaze

~ Umi
Sharon Thomas May 2017
When it rains here once again
I remember the time we clenched hands that monsoon.
And we trailed down that railway track on a cloudy noon
We weren't alone did you know?
In a place unknown to fog and snow
The weather had lost its temper
The train had been blinded enough to lose track.
Who doesn't know it's all a knack!
Derailed, they say.
Before the next I wish they simply care
These are not mere accidents you bare,
But testimonies you claim on a paid fare.
Indian Railways or any other for that matter I say,
When they pass the word 'happy journey'
We simply wish it's not our last.
When it rains once again here,
I remember the time we clenched hands that monsoon.
And I wailed down the railway track on that tragic day,
I do not understand which side to stake.
Or wish for summer once again in my life
Or curse the rails, frames and journeys that shatter.
Shatter! Solely due to human hands that fell short,
short to value the lives that derail.
sara Jul 2018
I saw a glimpse of heaven on an old park bench
but you said the location didn't make much sense
and struggled to see the wonder amongst all the falling leaves,
so I sighed, and got up, asking if we should leave.
reflection helps me learn not to let other people **** on your wonder x
Samantha Dietz Oct 2016
two o'clock in the morning
your eyes glow against the moon
who would have know that i
would fall so hard, so soon?

three o'clock in the morning
whiskey and a cigarette
there stood a sweet young couple
who looked a bit upset

four o'clock in the morning
the music is winding down
everyone is sleeping
not a soul makes a sound

five o'clock in the morning
she refuses to tell him goodbye
as soon as that car leaves the lot
she feels like she is going to die

six o'clock in the morning
the smell of coffee is bold
she's making banana pancakes
for two, though alone and cold

seven o'clock in the morning
she saw him in her dreams that night
it crippled her upon waking
she almost forgot his beautiful eyes

eight o'clock in the morning
he needed to hear her voice
the only thing that could calm him
so he was left with little choice

nine o'clock in the morning
she watched the sunrise and cried
he had absolutely no idea
her denial of love was a lie
Aaron Combs Mar 2015
This, this garden I made you, the garden of flowers,
I hope you might find strength through them.
On the right, the bees work to find it's honey,
and the daffodils on the left are still so blue.
The lilies by the small creek, and the rows of many flowers
stand in every color. The green-leafed willow I planted
holds them underneath the red sky.

My heart fades, my strength fails,
but your soul, like this, is a garden ever-beautiful.

Your lips are apple blossoms, and your hair falls like the breeze
of the morning.  Your kindness, like a hot shower
after a full day of work, you are so sweet, kind.
You take care of the weak, and do all that is good.
Like a mysterious tree in the garden,
                             You stand beautifully.

Now many things stretch for mystery and desire in the world,
but my bride, my bride, my beautiful bride, you set them all free.
My second poem, Enjoy! Encourage hearts and  comments, goal is 200. Can you contribute to my goal?
Jarene Oct 2018
all i want
is to be
wrapped up in your hoodie
sleeping
with your arms around me
Umi Mar 2018
Time is moving
In a stream of wonderous murderous intending, sacrificing sadness,
My ****** devotion, ought to shed blood in a distorted dark was but an perishable spring dream, looping without an end through nights,
On sleepless nights, the ghosts of the past gets stuck within a river of pure thoughts, a lake birthing memories in secret, subsconsciously,
Discard your common sense, sacrifice your sanity for just this second,
When the moon stands high in the sky, a bonfire seals the nights start
To its creeping shadows, they do not crackor sparkle under the twinkling stars of this celestial ceiling of pure majesty for nyctophiles,
Even our natural satelite agrees, dying itself into a lunatic scarlet red,
Darkness upon darkness, with layers of shadows overlapping one another as the light begins to dim, thanks to the disappearing moon,
An imaginated landscape, created from only pure rage and fury,
But whereabouts of the heart, are likely to be lost to the thought of love I carry within a broken chest of treasury, losing all emotions,
Even if my scarlet eyes were to be losing their ability yet to see,
I would be able to count on you to guide me, through the everlasting,
The dream I awoken from, was a moonlit night turning crimson, losing its radiance through the soft eclipse of the moon, gently, slowly
But you were there, within the far away landscape drawn in my heart

~ Umi
Northern Poet Oct 2017
She broke his heart
It needed stitches
Then he said
All women are witches

She let him down
You’re not to blame
I’m leaving this town
It’s not the same
We had love
But it went away
What could have been
Wasn’t meant to stay

He can’t sleep
And his body itches
Then he said
All women are witches

One bad experience
Cut him deep in side
Deeper and deeper
With a rusty old knife
What was once love
Wasn’t meant to be
You’ll get over her
And those memories

The mind weeps
While the body twitches
Then he said
All women are witches

He took the wrong path
And he walked the line
She took him for granted
While he bought her wine
She lied to his face
Time after time
An utter disgrace
He’s now doing just fine
It's never easy
But you've got to let go
Enough is enough
I’m tired of this show
Now he's free as a bird
And back on track
He’s ****** her off
And got his life back

Now she’s gone
He removed the stitches
And no longer thinks
All women are witches
Nicholas Mar 13
Scattered across my bedroom floor,
glimmers of light staccato on wilted rose pedals

Memories of us, 
the faintest slapback of the person I was with you,
flicker with lethargic buoyancy 

Fondness for fondness sake,
denial as a delicacy

Your face, obscured in these floral polaroids
Impressions of who you were;
what you meant to me,
a struggle to behold
but recognizable in ripples across the faces of others

Remains of an entanglement that seemed to answer
why the universe was even formed to begin with

This omnipresent truth laying abed the other
jagged reality of our affair;
it was never you,
it was my self-possessing pursuit of wholeness
Musings on the idea that love can be a very selfish act and that, in it's absence, we sometimes look back on a former relationship, not because we still love or miss that person, but because we love/miss the way that person made us feel about ourselves.
Umi May 2018
Walking on shoes of glass,
Will I find any hold, or will I find myself breaking down into pieces ?
The phantoms of a night's serenity rage to the nihilism within my questions, as painful wind brushes to the tip of my averted, eyes..
Breaking down into to the pieces of shattered glass, I cannot move,
Our dreams spilled and vanished when you let go of my hand,
Restoring the shattered pieces I can't leave you, I don't want to!
But even if I continue walking on these crystal heels, I'll fall once more, won't I? Yet I choose to step on this fragile, frail foot wear,
Though, the real question is, if you will be there to catch me again,
Careful steps, in order to maintain an elegant glance, to not break down again and shatter our hearts with the broken glass of misery,
Swaying back and forth, unsteady and unable to lower my guard,
I stare at the sight of the abyss next to the bridge we are crossing,
If the glass shatters and you are to catch me again we surely will fall,
But even so, verily we would fall down together,
And that is what I find very beautiful.

~ Umi
Morgan Mercury Sep 2013
Oh, you were a book that I never have read
and ask anyone I have read them all.
I studied your cover and fell in love with your spine.
Oh, let me read you
let me explore your mind.

You were an album
and I loved all your songs.
I could sing them none stop all day long
and they would never get old,
not a single one.

You were my favorite flower
and I was a selfish kid
that wanted to pick you,
and keep you all to myself instead.

But you were a song
I had stuck in my head
I sang along until night when I crashed in bed.
We fit together just listen to our harmony.
Come on over
and keep me company.
You can bring your guitar and I'll bring mine
we'll be an unstoppable duet
just you & I
Northern Poet Oct 2017
When you're with someone
That you don't love
What will you do
When push comes to shove

Do you sit there in silence
In these self-hurt times of violence
Or do you cut the rope
And lose all hope
'Until death do us part'
Or will you go back to the start

Do you lie and cheat
Until you start to spy
And then you can't eat
You can't even sleep
And you never felt so cheap
And *****
It was only
A bit of flirting

What started out as lust
Is now all about trust
When the happiness fades away
It all turns to dust
MJL May 11
Lovers peck wee initials deep in Tulare County bark
Letters grow more historic with each passing tick tick tick
Flitter-flutter tickles the breeze whispering beloved's anthem higher
Chestnut feathered flights of fancy pierce the sweetheart's crest
Juniper berries laced with honeysuckle and rosy sweetness
Will them to taste and savor each jittery moment
Heart beats syncopate with their May swoon and sway
Counter clockwise then clockwise, away then toward Yagura
Taking turns leading then following
They nock their dream
Every nestled embrace they etch deeper
Every page their timber tune ripples rings wider
Every ardent kiss with open eyes pounds louder
Their heart radiates a single fleeting verse
Two wee birds
One lovely voice
One timeless plunge
Begging their tango to last
Wishing their story to always be
Loves mark upon the ages


© 2019 MJL
Etching the largest tree in Tulare County represents creating our lives together. Sequoia is Cherokee for sparrow. The giant redwood is named for a Cherokee Indian of the early 19th century who created the Cherokee language. Yagura is a Japanese high wooden tower used in a May folk dance celebration of springs rebirth.
Reif Airen Sep 8
Having you would take a lot of time
Make me cross different paths and borderlines
Costing plenty, a lot of dime
Just for me to call you mine


One thing I know for sure
You are the man of my dreams
My long awaited future
The co-leader of my team


You are my knight
The one who gives me light
Into the darkness of the night
My direction when things are out of sight


Forever you'll be
Very special to me
Waiting for the time that I'll see
You and I will be together as "we"
Nikki Danilov Mar 30
smile.
your aching gums would only want that.
flowers.
I bet your girl would adore them.
breathe...because I know you are dying to again.
Every time I feel myself falling, I try to grab onto you.
Slipping my arm through yours, hand locking around your waist.
Broadcasting your warmth from every pore - I relent, knots unwinding
for that second before you steel up tall, lock your chin, and frown.
Then you shake me loose. I can see on your face that you don’t want to push me away
Which is why you’re not. You’re shaking me over the centre of the earth
But it is my gravity that will claw me down and **** me.

This is your epicentre. The point where all your earthquakes start:
You did not push me down the hole. You merely shook me loose over it. Differentiation.
Hey so lately I've been struggling a lot with my partner. We don't go to bed together anymore. Anyone who reads my poetry (so no one) will realise that perhaps it hasn't been good for a while. Last night he came to bed at 07.30am - we hadn't even been out. This is not the life I look forward to.
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