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ryn Jul 2014
In a few moments I'd be thirty-five
Excited not but a feeling of dread
Time has come but have yet to arrive
I lay with a pillow over my head.

Tears streaming with eyes burning hot
Gasps in between, riddled with disbelief
Mess I've made that I wished I had not
It manifests itself in full ****** grief.

Discontented with how far I've fallen
Far cry from any semblance of my dream
So deep, wonder how far I'd have sunken
Long way down fraught with tears it would seem.

The sun had shone in the days before
Tonight it seems I'm alone in the dark
Wounds I thought had healed; still open, and sore
Thought they'd disappear but instead leave a mark.

Where do I turn before I start moving
I wish that I had some sort of bearing
Truth is in circles I have been walking
Plagued by questions that now need answering.

Like every year, I'd still make my journey
A lifetime it seems; walking with aimless pace
Wounds be forgotten and would scar eventually
Next year, I'd arrive back at this very same place...
28th November 2013
BJ Donovan Jul 2018
My Lady Jayne

      When did I lose sight of your frailities?
      You were a superstar at work. Manager of
      managers of managers. You traveled the world
      and enforced rules with iron ****** resolve.
      I thought you were invincible. I should have
      seen the cracks forming when your boss was a
      man without a moral compass who ****** his
      underlings thus ******* his wife from afar.
      They broke your spirit and it broke my heart.
      You fought the battle harder than I ever could.
      For better and worse. Now we heal together.
      Walk with me and I will go anywhere with you.
Mallory Michaud Jul 2018
My eyes click clacked
To the cling clang
Of a bottle of *** hitting marble
Ava was sitting on the bar countertop
The boy with the glasses
Folded between her spider legs
Their teeth like piano keys playing one another

She ****** his shirt
Red maraschino
Pet his cheek with her
smooth leather palm
Stroked his hair with
Comb fingers
Bejeweled with silver rings

She stretched out her vowels like taffy when she spoke
Giggles stabbing themselves into the middle of her sentences.
“I️ like the way wine makes me feel”
She purred,
Swishing the words around in her mouth before she chased them down with
Pino Gris

I’d never seen this version of Ava.
Night velvet
Black cat
Skin sheets of raw silk.
She was slippery and evasive,
Like a mermaid
Hiding behind her hair and her scales and champagne,

Because
Inside
I️ knew
She wished the boy
With the glasses and the red shirt
Was her Brooklyn boy
So she kissed him with wine lips,
The force of disappointment and pain
Napolis Aug 2018
Once I was

the target

in your eye

for a

moment,



caught there

in your

spider web

mentality.


and I

struggled

for a

10,000 moments

to get

free,


then laughed

at my

myself

when I

did,


on how

ordinary

and simple

and bland



your thoughts

and lies

truly were.


over used

tangled

emotions

of a ******

burnt

relationship


where all

of my writings

became black eyed

poems of

the closed

****** kind.


that left

me  purpled

bruised and

discarded.


where love

could not

find me.

where love

will not

find you.


but now  I

have found

my falling

star blazing

hot yellow

across

her eyes

melting into

mine,


soaring

laughing

together

as one.


and now

at last

I no longer

wonder

in the

dark..



if your

heart

will

ever learn

to fly

again..
thomezzz Feb 10
I used to love the moments of love
Like the gratuitous glances
We exchanged in the grocery store
Or the brief belly laughs
That reverberated in our bedroom

I found myself living in them
Like the kind kisses
We had in the tight kitchen
Or the sly smirks
Reflected off the shower stall

I wanted them all the time
Like the ample adoration
Down adjacent bookstore aisles
Or the careening caresses
Of my thighs in the car

Even when sour, I held them so close to me
Like the damaged despair
Of broken plates in the dining room
Or the warning words
That echoed off white walls

I remembered every moment
Like the accusing anger
Spread across awful afternoons
Or the effortless embraces
Given in endured evenings

And sometimes, I wished I could forget them
Like the somber silences
In separate sides of the bed
Or the tearful touches
Of hands tightly ****** together

I used to love the moments of love
Like the beginning beauty
Of blushed bedroom faces
Or the frightened farewells
Under falling rain
Mateuš Conrad Sep 2018
i can't help what i am...
but what i am not is a spoken word
poet: with that generic exasperation
technique of speaking -
as if, on the verge of crying...

but what i can tell you...
i am a rigid person,
there are 3/4 of me that should
have enlisted in the army,
and only a 1/4 that went to
university...

so... given that i'm such a rigid ******...
i thought i'd tell you about
linear and vertical rhyming...
linear?
oh, that's neat & easy:

.................................... end
.................................... bend
..................................... send
..................................... wend....

basically suffix rhyming...
but! but... what Sylvia Plath
introduced?
   oh, my, god...
      transcendent of
the conceptualization of
"the" box...

her rhyme? alphabetical...
sort of...

        it's more than that...
she didn't pay due diligence on
suffix rhyming -end,
   -ing
    you name it...

you want to know what her rhyme
concept implies?

   **** me, it's sassy...

she was a rhyming weaver...
an interloper...
    words didn't have to necessarily
end in the same boundary
of an echo... echo rhyming
by the standard bearers is one thing...
she made tartan rhymes...

tartan rhyming...
kilt rhyming...

                  and it looked something
equivalent to, this:

  ceremony or Potent -
Still sky, obtuSe -
   one might Say love -
  Suddenly,
        black featherS,
black reSpit -
Season of fatigue,
SpaSmodic,
  deScend...
   Stolidly...
       no effigy... Seem...
pompouS...
                         coarSe copy...
      Bell tongue BirdS...
    Shrined on her SHelf...
too Tough to Finish...
  Seize my Senses...
ToTal neuTrality...
   deScent...
                Sanguine...
  bRick dusk...
Prose...
              plaCe...
            pompouS...
Ne­at kNits...
    weedS obScured...
SHe blenched,
miMic...
   deSpite...
baniSH...
    ******...
too tough for knife to finiSH...

      Head...
so profoundly muCH...
       piN legs...
               thoughtS...
So departS...
       S(h)eets...
Sanity...
      Tongue...
Printed Page...
  Twelve...
Sick man's Eye...
nEVER nEVER found
anyWHERE...

goodbye goodbye...
      eXclamation...
the First point...
            GHost...
   Signify...
cuckoo-land of color fields,
CRisp CUsp...
    
        the girl's dancing!
she's dancing barefoot...
no, i can't fall in love with her...
she's, dead!

    but can you see
rhyming vertically?
   all the lettering,
in capital letters?
  deviancy...
   it doesn't agree to your
box standard form of
rhyme, linearly...
  it's vertical rhyming,
it's juxtapositions on a scale
that might elongate
the winding tongue of a snake
in, anything but maracas
rattling...
sssssssssssssssssssssss.....
a wet snare...
   she's teasing...
she has escaped
the tradition of
the traditional guise of rhyme...
she has invoked
rhyme, but as an intermediating
attachment...
          forget the rigid
end-
                   -ing
with a "worthy"
   sympathiz-
                                        -ing...

what a gall...
she makes the housewives of America's
1950s twice as vampire-like,
and thrice as Stepford material...
   lucky blond to leave so much
"****" behind...
   i could pick the maggots
from her head and make it
a day's worth of fishing
on the banks of Vistula...

she's dancing in the rain,
and all i have is my Cameo cinema
moment
with my cousin, Justine,
running barefoot where
i grew up on the cement...
and then cuddling together,
getting warmer
over one worth of an afternoon...

last time i heard...
her son Leo was born on
the 15th of May,
my birthday...
  but we've fallen out...
when her husband
put a **** under my father's
self-employment
enterprise...
   and undertook
a practice of stealing workers
from him...
great move... when you join
a family...

        nice memory though...
wish my cousin Justin all the luck
she can muster...
but when it comes to family
friendliness?
none....
                 went to her brother's
wedding... was interrogated by
her brother's best man...

   Polish drunk talk...
let's just say...
his date?
   was flashing her underwear
at me from under her magic carpet
ride of a skirt while we
smoke cigarettes and finished
off drinks, being accused of...
trying... to seriously...
hide her... exhibitionism...

   so i started punching myself
in the face to find target practice
should i ever come across
any more Polacks, drunk,
at a family wedding...
   you never know...

           ****... if ******* wanna tango...
we'll... ******* tango! ha ha.
now all i need is the raw
material... my knuckles
are either furry...
or they're itchy...
  can't exactly knock-out
my neighbors dog...
   i need a ******* mug of
a mouthwash advert...
with a grin that's, seriously
asking for a few missing teeth
to rekindle a smile!

— The End —