Casey James Dunn May 2014

Sleep depravation leads to many fun things,
Like commas,
And sea dragons,
And low self esteem,

Being happy leads to several exciting things!
Like exclamation marks!
And dolphins!
And a sexually transmitted disease!

Anger leads to lots of frustrating things.
Like periods.
And humans.
And bullets handed out for free.

So with all these great feelings, creating such magic!
How in the world could life be so tragic.

Meggn Alyssa May 2014

Face to Face
Will Always Be Better
Skin Meets Skin
and I Don't Quite Know Yet
What His Exclamation Points Mean

Raj Arumugam Oct 2010

Oh noble exclamation mark!
I expel! I exclaim!
Oh most excitable exclamation mark!

Oh, to see you
sends blood racing
in my veins!
Oh, I love you
and I love you thrice!!!!
- oh, was that four times????
Oh, be not jealous
I brought in your
distant relative
the crooked and deformed question mark
for I not only love you
!!!! –
but I love you forever, most excitable exclamation mark!!!!
!!!!!!!!!!.......and forever!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!..............

Oh noble exclamation mark!
I expel! I exclaim!
Oh most excitable exclamation mark!

K Balachandran Dec 2011

Good gracious me!
what have you done to me?

WhyamIaSpoon Dec 2013

Kiss me harder
Fuck me faster
Love me now
And hold me
I'm desperate
For you and
I won't wait
Another day
To see you
In my arms
I'll text you
Now and not
Wait for later
I'll speed to
Your house
Because there
May be
No Tomorrow
This might be
Our last kiss
Our last fuck

I'll be straight
With you
Live life
With an
Exclamation Point

gray rain May 2016


if exclamation
marks  put
on   the
word or

it ?

Emily Townsend Nov 2016

I am alive and I am terrified.
Why does the future have to be
this question mark, this puddle of murkiness
wagging its finger to beg you to come

Darkness lurches above me in
halos circling brightly, making no sense

I can see you, Future
I can see everything I want to see
but the waters won’t clear, the question mark
won’t turn into an exclamation point,

and you make me travel down the path
into the unknown.

SøułSurvivør Mar 2014

Minimalist poetry.
Each one with an

Olivia Nov 2015

pain is too many exclamation points -
some kind of overcompensation for the sober realization that we need to be happy,
but aren't

pain is burnt toast, but not in the good way;
like the way that it sits on your tongue
Makes your mouth taste like metal,
makes your words feel like crumbs
waiting to be swept away

today, I laughed too much, so by 3 o' clock I had no smiles left in me
They have gone like I have gone to sleep
waiting for some alarm to sing
to ring with something like hope
something to cut the rope, the knots
my stomach ties when I don't notice
Pain is knowing that you know this
will hurt
and knowing is half the battle.

But knowing is...half the battle
The rest of the war is dealing with more
exclamation points than you wanted
more mornings without alarms

more meals
of only crumbs.

another spoken poem i've been meaning to post somewhere, haven't recorded it but it's an idea that's been in my head a long time.
Camps Mar 2016

We hold these rainbows to be self-illuminating, that all their colors are created equal and by the minute hand of the clock, that they are well-endowed by some cheap champagne with certain extraterrestrial Lefts, that among these are Virginity, A Love For The Renaissance Period, and The Thrill Of An Increasingly Difficult Game Of Tetris. — That to see these beings, Prisms are strategically placed among the gap between the lines, deriving their telekinetic powers from the consent of those on fire, — That whenever Porcupines should quarrel among themselves about whether or not they are color blind and become destructive in these matters, it is Up to the Auroras to pick up the quill, and to begin their plan for World Domination, making sure to push their celestial cousins to one side and lay little clay men on such lies and such bluntness of mannerism, as to them the Arctic ice will never melt, despite the efforts of their Most Radial Glow. Penmanship, ironically, will dictate that biting the bullet is reason enough to be declared a martyr, something that would not be exchanged for a deflated currency’s worth of low self-esteem and a heaping pile of existentialist crises; and accordingly all experience has shown that angels and men are but disposable commodities much akin to the chips left at the bottom of the bag, all while somebody is out there giving judgmental glances to passport photos. But when a mile-long trail of ants decides to pursue the scents of pharaohs, it invariably forces the same Desert to an absolute Sense of Homeland Security, and it is its right, it is its duty, to throw out the Sphinx with nothing more than a simple eviction notice, and to provide new Guards for the future of its civilization. — Such has been the heavy burden of never winning at Chess; and such is now the necessity to take the pieces and rebuild them into their former Castles. The history of Blank Maps is a testimony of those led astray by the charm of settling down and of getting three x’s in a row, all having a direct correlation to the unwavering need of an absolute Exclamation of Imagination. To prove this, just let Rainbows paint the clearest of skies.

susan Nov 2014

if you throw a pebble at my window
i will let you in.

Jeffrey Pua Feb 2015

I love her C-s and O-s,
Her zeroes,
Her parentheses.

© 2015 J.S.P.

SB Stokes Oct 2015

I wanna say ghost crumple but fear the retribution for assuming something other than

something I vaguely remember no that's a downright lie as flagrant as a flag flapping

in defiance I remember so well as if branded by that moment scalded by my focus

your post-coital scent and that smile in both your eyes and your own cascading

laughter the honest laugh done in private when truly experiencing wonder and the

baby smell in the crater where your neck joins your skull to that body your body

young and heavenly unspoilt like a river's passion cresting itself and returning to

your carefully manicured shores I wanna say paper cut but anticipate the ache the

burn that will cause me my body my brain my heart we called it spleen in previous

times something other in the future no doubt in my mind my heart my body the echo

of recollection of a different color and a different flavor than the original worn into

something other by the abrasions of both time and nostalgia a different shape all

together taken by this memory but its intensity a twin identical and more perfect in

reflection of your reflection in a sunlit moment the denim blue of curtains unable to

contain the refraction sliced delicate by the broad leaves and your bare skin still

glowing from a washing and a shaving and you are lost in your own reflection

humming songs and curling your hair bleached shocking white with blonde intention

natural roots so Nancy Spungen but more or less that much more careless and

ruthless a thing you were in that moment only I couldn't and didn't know it I wanna

say please just leave it, but I daren't and I shouldn't and at the time I couldn't couldn't

bear to think it but really just like cancer I just knew it and I didn't and you didn't and

we stood there and I wanna say we let it but we didn't and it happened and now it's

just reflection recollection and despair

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