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Good Morning
I wish
Everyday
To the one
I feel
State of peace

Once in the blue moon
My greet is addressed
He said

Yes just
Once in the blue moon
And that day

I really get confused
**** !!
Is everything all right?
He said
Genre: Experimental
Theme: Weight of wish, Good Morning
He/She wakes up
Before the sun rises
With a wish
To greet
Whom he/she believes
As the closed one

"Hold on"
Said the reality
Helplessly, he/she prayed for you
“Let the peace be with you”
Always
This could be, what silence is
Genre: Observational
Theme: Reciprocation || Respecting a space, when they give their 10%, give them 20%, If they give their 100%, give your life. If they give their 0%, remember it is time to wish, stay blessed. Nothing to say.

Note, hint, how to read: If you are gentlemale, just read he, and if gentlewomen, just read she.
memoona kazmi Jan 25
death has come to greet me,
tell my loved ones i am going,
ask them for the last time,
to come and meet me,

tell her not to haste,
ask her to wait,
for i have a mother,
who standing at the door awaits,

my brother must be,
watching my way,
we haven't talked
for several days,

in its impulsiveness ,
it will not hear,
my father crying,
he is standing near,

death has come to greet me,
i want her not to hurry,
but it will not listen to me,
so let me embrace her happily,
for after such a long time,
death has come to greet me....
Francie Lynch Jun 2018
The hood won't be the same,
We're out standing in the rain,
To encourage sprouts as we once did our children;
For down the road you see it's as legal,
As a Timmy's and a cream-cheese bagel,
We're good to grow the free green grass at home.

On this side of our border,
Starting this October,
We'll bake it, vape it, roll and bowl to take it;
Down the road you see it's now legal,
The price of home grown's dropped to zero,
We're good to grow the free green grass at home.

Yes we're all on board to greet it,
Some inhale and some will eat it;
We're good to grow the free green grass at home.

I'm awake and it astounds me,
My four plants that surround me;
We've realized what we've long been dreaming;
For there's a store where we can cop some,
Come the fall fresh buds will blossom,
We're good to grow our free green grass at home.

Yes we're all on board to greet it,
Some inhale, and some will eat it,
We're good to grow our free green grass at home.
Sung to Tom Jones' "Green Green Grass of Home."
*** becomes legal in Canada on October 17th. We're permitted to grow four plants per household. Finally.
A "Timmy" is a Tim Hortons coffee.
Ferns Jul 2018
Is it not easy 
 to greet to someone
whom you never spoke
for a very long time?

Among all people,
I am the only one
you've always bypass
to talk to

I know the hindrance
why we ward off each other
just to make ourselves
escape the stigma

Curiosity gets bigger
Each time I look at you
Should I wait patiently
Or take the wheel further

One thing I could do...
All what I wanted to say,
all my thoughts about you,
are profoundly veiled


You and me
are the only ones
to know what's in...
where people shouldn't know

A storage box
of unspoken words
a birthday bag
of sweets

If you are reading this
do not assume
that I did them
Nat Lipstadt Mar 2018
0 followers?

then I'm your man,
your very own first
Northern Star,
the first of a 3 legged stool,
upon which all enthroned poets,
the world, do rule

the honor you bequeath me  
to be, a first follower, your own
first responder,
cannot be
disdained nor diminished

this case, this birth, revival,
heart transplant, makes it
the greatest
to be the first,
the quencher of your thirst
so long in the parching,
the throat burnt by a desert sojourn
of an an ended forty years

so come to me,
message me a message,
find me a find,
a poem so fine,
I here now vow,
our embrace n'ere be broken

give me this honorific,
let us together be terrific,
raise our glasses,
arms entwined toasting you
and all that mind and breast of yours,
bursting full of future~contains,
the full release of,  brings longer life
to us both

I am a father.
I am a grandfather.
I am a First Follower.
I am a First Responder
for all who need a leg up,
step up upon my heart,
the first step upon a ladder
with no top, no end sighted

my legs are as old as time, but,
measure me not by the rings and the
metered scales of gray hair aging,
the shock of white, the cain mark

but by the muscles of my affection,
the solemnity of this,
my irrevocable promise

this,
the blessing we both earn and make
when you write,
while we wait
in quiet attendance -
for all your good works,
your kept promises

Blessed are You Lord our God, 
Ruler of the Universe
who has given us life, sustained us
until just now,
allowing the reader and the writer,
to reach and greet this day.
Chrissy Ade Jun 2018
My lips have always craved the taste of danger.
Maybe it is because I don't know what's good for me
or I'm in love with the high I get from it
The high that takes me to the heavens,
surpassing the pillow-like clouds
resting against the azure canvas
I remember the taste so vividly,
I salivate at the thought of it
It's sweet like candy,
the sugary goodness
rushing inside my veins
delicately coating my tongue
bites between my teeth
explode into a thousand little pieces,
dancing inside my mouth
Your succulent lips pressed against mine,
remind me of the taste of summer strawberries,
juicy and tender with citrusy undertones
we're kissing like there's no tomorrow
Oh how I feel your lips part from mine, then touch
and part again the way the clouds greet the sky
Before a rainy afternoon
How can something so bad taste this good?
Oh I'm convinced your kisses are a drug
Nice to play with, but toxic to the mind
Kissing you must be equivalent to intoxication
shockwaves through my body,
the paralyzing euphoria
I don't think I could ever give you up
This addiction is taking control
Constructive Criticism is welcomed :)
Nat Lipstadt Jun 2018
why I love certain men


it’s a raining and writing Saturday,
a washout for the beach visitors who chose their
calendar lottery tickets poorly

but hurrah and huzzah for the poet
in the no-sun-today-room with
steam collecting on his face from his 20 oz. Canadian mug,
the rest of him cozied neath a
wooly mohair knitted and tasseled blanket,
from a now naked and shivering alpaca goat in Turkey or Tibet

perhaps we’ll make a tiny dent
in the 1319 poems,
in the ‘sorta started to do’ list

****.
new one sneaks in demanding immediate satisfaction
and threatening my mind’s incarceration unless,
serviced and unleashed as the Frenchies say

Frites, immédiatement!: (french fries, now!)

I love most men; certain men more than others,
not because they are soft to the touch,
look great in thigh highs, can fix a backhoe,
lay hands on animals, just as they do upon their grandchildren,
or write better poetry than me,
because
they make me weep from zealous delight at
their capricious unprecedented constancy of their
honorable actions

they are soft to the core, which is itself
wrapped in a leather soldered steel,
which defines them by their self-questing constant,
asking themselves preface and postface,
doing it well, in between,

what is the honorable thing?

this honor idea of which writ previous
doesn’t dissolve - indeed grows crescendo stronger,
like the miracle of the Yom Kippurs rams horn
crying out to heavens at the concluding end  
on the holiest judgement day,
a shofar miracle for it inhumanly grows ever louder,
ceasing only when nightfall marks a new day begun,
reminding both sinners and saviour each,
to inquire of their colluding selves on this forgiveness-giving day,

what is the honorable thing?

some are borrowers and some lenders,
of anything, the substance or the whom matters not,
but the bonding bonfire from which the deal is done,
is of a uncharted organic chemical matter unrecognized
but millennium ancient


here I stop

the call to breakfast must be obeyed,
for it’s with lovely made, menu man-poet requested,
this is too an honorable thing to do,
and the 1319 half blood~half writs poking my eyes,
can be faced with new courage afterwards
on a perfect raining and writing Summer Saturday
for the next one hopefully and woefully

may not come till the September (Rosh Hashanah/Jewish New Year) when acorns fall

certain men will greet that fall Sabbath/ New Years Day,  
when Atonement begins, a ten day process to the final conclusion,
by asking of everything living and of every act human performed,
for the forgiveness requested inherent in the absolute bar setting of

what is the honorable thing?

which by the by,

is why I love certain women too...

and all who are honorable
will read this honorific and remain
clueless as to whom it is addressed...

oh god, I do so love that best!

what could signal honor even more...
ethan gaskill Jul 2018
i want to be
your vintage crooner for life
frank sinatra mixed with marvin gaye
with twenty-first century style
i'd greet you at the door with flowers
and be your chauffeur to wherever
you want to go i'll take you
there's no rush; we have forever
our life can feel like a movie
almost too good to be true
sooner or later you'll realize
i've always felt that way about you
galas and night dances and jet airplanes to france
would only be enjoyable if i'm holding your hand
i think that we could see our dreams
with our own awake eyes
so come and ride away with me
and we can have the time of our lives
whether sunday morning pancakes or a tuesday noontime lunch
breakfast in bed or a venice bistro will be equally fun
and if god takes us that far
i'd point to you when our daughter asks what a queen is
we could show our children how dedication
and compassion makes life feel like you're dreaming
and someday many years from now
when we have an empty nest
we'll remember the feature film of our romance
and decide that we did it best
Big Virge Aug 2016
Well ........
It Seems It's ... OPEN SEASON ...
  
For ... MURDEROUS ... Policing ... !?!
  
NO MORE ...
Will Blacks Take ... Beatings ... !!!
  
Police Will Leave Us ... Bleeding ... !!!
While They ... KEEP ON Receiving ...
PROTECTION For ... Yes Leaving ...
  
Blacks With ...
  
NO PULSE or ... FEELING ... !!!
In Fact ... NO LONGER Breathing.
  
And Then Comes ... " Court Proceedings " ...
That Leave Black People SEETHING ... !!!!!!!!!!!!
  
Well Fine It's ... OPEN SEASON ...
For Poetry ... Now Seeking .............................................................
  
Some TRUTH ...  
And Less ... Deceiving ... !!!
  
See ....
I'm Incredibly ... NOT Shocked ...
At How Poor ... " Walter Scott " ...
  
Got Shot By ...
Some ... White Cop ...  
  
When Walter ... Tried To Run ...
From This ... Policeman **** ... !!!!!
  
But ......
Before I ... Move Along ...
  
He May Well ...
Have Done Wrong ... ?!?
But ... " Officer Slager " ...
Let Off ... EIGHT SHOTS ...
In ... Walters' BACK ... !?!!!? ...
  
Let Me Just .... " Back Track " .....
  
He Shot ... " EIGHT TIMES " ...
Taking ... " HIS LIFE " ... !!!!! ...
  
Because .............
Said ... SLAGER ...  
  
" He feared for his safety
because Mr. Scott, tried to
grab his Taser ! "
  
So ...  
That Means ... WHAT ... ?!?
  
He Deserved To Be Shot ...
EIGHT TIMES ... In His BACK ... !?!!!?!
  
Maaaaannnnn ....
  
ENOUGH of This CRAP ... !!!!!
  
What Kind of Policing ... ?!?
Gives Policeman Teachings ...
of ... SHOOT TO DEATH ... !!!!
  
Rather Than ... " A Leg " ...
  
Shoot ... BOTH ...  
... If Ya Like ... !!!!!
  
But .....
ENOUGH ... of These Vibes ...
Where ... Black People DIE ... !!!!!!
  
Husbands and Wives ...
Whose Fam' Are Told ... LIES ... !!!!!
About ... Cop HOMICIDES ... !!!!!!
  
So Let Me ...
  
SEASON and OPEN ........................................
How People Are .... Bro Ken ...
And Blacks Are Just ... " Tokens "...
For Them To Be ... " Quoting " ...
ALL Kinds of ... DUMB THINGS ... !!!!!!
  
About ...
  
... Po' Po' Shootings ....
  
An ... Asian Dude ...
Who ... Went To My School ...
Posted ... One Day ...
  
On My ...  
Facebook Page ...
  
"Blacks need to be wise
when police are in sight,
and not antagonise,
cos' that's how they'll die !"
  
Yeah THIS ... Indian Guy ...
Felt He ... Had The Right ...
To ... Tell Me Why ...

Police TAKE ... Black Lives ... ?!!!?
  
Cos' We ....
  
" DON'T ACT RIGHT !!! "
  
Well YEAH ... Sometimes ...
But Being ... SHOT TO DEATH ...
Goes BEYOND .... NONSENSE ... !!!!!
  
But ......
Asians Like ... HIM ...
Prove That Being ... "submissive" ...
Is How Most ... CHOOSE To Live ...
And How Most ... Seem To Think ... !?!
  
How Many ... Asian Girls ...
And I DON'T MEAN ... Orientals ... !!!
  
Have Been ... " Experimental " ... ???
  
When It Comes To ... Black Men ...
Being ... In Their Worlds ...
As The ... FATHERS OF ...
  
..... Their Children ..... ?!?
  
It's CLEAR ...
From Their ... " Caste System " ...
That ... Inter-Racial Teams ...
Are .... Rarely EVER Seen ... !!!
  
Unless Their Partner's ...
......... " White " ........ ?!?
  
Most Asians ....
DON'T Trust Blacks ...
And That Is Simply ... FACT ...
  
In Fact ...
Some Do Believe ...
That Blacks Are Just ... MONKEYS ... ??!??
  
Check Through Their ... "History " ...
Such Words ... AREN'T FALLACY ... !!!!!!!!!!
  
When We Now ... " Greet Police " ...
  
Should Blacks ... IMMEDIATELY ... ?
Get Down Upon ... " our knees " ...
  
And BEG Like ...
  
... " Slavery Scenes " ...
  
"Please *****', don't shoot me !"
  
Which Leads Me To ...
... These Blacks ...
  
Whose Uniform's ...
Now ... " Packed " ...
  
To Join These ...
... Police Klans ... !!!!!!!
  
What Have They Changed ...
In ... Policing Ways ... ?!!!? ...
  
... " Not A Lot " ... !!!!!!
  
Ask ... " Walter Scott " ... ???
  
Well Sadly Now ...
  
You ...
CAN'T DO THAT ... !!!!!!
  
Because What Is FOUL ...
Is ... THIS HERE FACT ... !!!!!
  
While Walter ... DIED ...
And Lied ... FACE FLAT ...
  
A Cop Who Was ... BLACK ... !!!
Seemed To Search Mr. Scott ...
As If He'd ... STILL ATTACK ... ?!!!?
  
And Then ...  
Let This ... White Cop ..
Treat Him ... LIKE HIS DOG .... !???!
  
I'm ...  
SICK of The CRAP ... !!!!!!
Now Coming From ... Blacks ... !!!!!!!
  
Will They Wanna Shoot ME ... ?!?
For This ... REAL POETRY ... !?!
  
See It's Been ...
  
..... OPEN SEASON .....

For ...
QUITE SOME TIME ... !!!!! ...
  
Cos' ....
Black Folks Be ... " submissive " ...
As If They'll Face ... " A Lynching " ... !!!

For BREATHING ...
And NOT ... " Flinch-ing " ... !!!!!
  
When ...
Po Po Lights ...
Start .... Blinking .... !!!!!!!
  
Which Right Now ...
Gets Me ... Thinking .......................................
  
That ... " William Lynch " ...
Is Looking Down and Saying ...
  
"Look at these Black Clowns !"
  
Folks ....
This Here AIN'T ...
  
" 12 Years A Slave " ...
  
This Shooing Happened ...
.... " YESTERDAY " .... !!!!!!!!
  
In ... South Carolina ....
Where That PIG Has Been Fired ... !!!
  
But ....
Without ... " The Footage " ...
would he still be out ... SHOOTING ... !!! ? !!!
  
See I'm ...  
A Man of ... " Reason " ...
  
But Right Now ...
I'M SEETHING ... !!!!!
  
Because ....
When It Comes To ....
  
... KILLING BLACKS ...  
  
It's  .....
  
... STILL ...
..... CLEARLY .....
  
.... " Open Season " ....

Listen Here :

https://soundcloud.com/user-16569179/open-season/s-Dm4jH
Certain poems speak for themselves, due to events that are as REAl, as they come .... I use the BLM moniker below, but, Do Black Lives REALLY Matter ... ??? beyond police actions .... ??? I prefer this tag #VerseThatMatters

Listen To The Musical Version Here :

https://soundcloud.com/user-16569179/07-open-season
Belated Cousin my Younger Cake gives
Forgive my Busy Bee to Greet you well
Since both we in Tune to the Yorker's, lives
Are what a few Dollars which I can sell
Now, how was your Day? Special as it seems
That the Early History our Links blur
Perhaps I was Young to sort out the Reams
Forgetting that Paper, Pink would occur
Overall, such a Worry-Wart I am
To think that you have Stones in my Basket
Realising that our Blood's Strength it can
Revive my Love's Story in your Pocket.
Greatly wish, Manang, my missed Uncle bears
Take his Candle; And put it in your hair.
Mystic Ink Plus Aug 2018
Normally
People will always smile at you
If you allow them to

Do initiate first
Genre: Experimental
Theme: The Lost Wisdom
Far from the land of sun
Close to the soul
Me myself and I
Wish you
A better tomorrow
To see you, better
With a hope

Very next time
Genre: Experimental
Elena Jan 18
Her branches hung low
to the ground
They brushed the dirt
that they sat upon
How beautiful is pain
when it grows
It has a way to hang
those gentle woes.

See that tree all alone
yet so full?

Her shadows weep
in the bristles of doom
Then the sun comes to play
in the cold bushy monsoon.
As gusty sighs sway her eyes
to greet the galloping moon.
Poetoftheway Aug 2017
when you pass my way, know that my Wi-Fi network
requires no password to gain entry,
thus it comes with a security recommendation:

there is no security in poetry, only the unresolvable:

how came Excalibur into the rock,
will our children have better lives than us,
can we define accurately finite,
why can't we add new letters to our alphabet,
will my poems live longer than I

so when you pass my way
walk right in, sit right down,
greet madness,
thy new boon companion,

who will not ask you for the password...
8/27/17 11:43pm
Homunculus Apr 2016
The process of becoming other than,
  the shedding of the old by way of time
  the hands upon the clock traverse their span,
  the ever fleeting moment reigns, sublime.

The emptiness of all objective forms,
  the rushing river, never stepped in twice,
  the reconfiguration of all norms,
  the virtues of lost ages seen as vice,

The elements converge and then react,
  the caterpillars weave themselves cocoons,
  the world amends its stock of gathered facts,
  the moths emerge, in flight to greet the moon,
  
   The firmament, destroyed and rearranged,
     the universal essence, found in change.
I'm actually beginning to enjoy writing these.
Spenser Bennett Jun 2016
Does the lonely bird still sing?
Do his feathers still greet the Spring?

Is there a sadness in his song?
When the full forest sounds wrong?

Unsure if abandoned by hope
Or lost in the fetid smoke.

His voice a broken pitiful thing.
A lonely bird cannot sing.

And if he musters a "Po-tee-weet"
No other birds may he greet.

Will ever a time come to pass
When the lonely bird sings at last?
At last these Plums took the Daughter in Kind
From Lord Raffles' Paradise she adored
A Marriage of Saints she thought to remind
Though behind her Door was Melancholy.
But who a Pony-Child in Fashion's New
Could taste the Recipe she may not like?
Clotted Cream? Or Fish in the River-View
Tore through the Muddy Dress to greet her Delight
This is not the Age, Tories of the West
To switch on Lights dimmed for your Books to read
She is a Sweet-Tooth; Or Filmer at best
Just give her a Spoon; She makes one Great Mead.
She is my Friend. And the Plum's Diver Son
Rewarded a Follow never un-done.
#triciaalexia
M Solav Sep 2018
We were mixed up when it built;
One another forced to coexist.
As it drew us high and higher still,
Below us grew the abyss.

Overflowing with ecstasy,
We left our hearts astray.
The obnubilating and obsolete
Had gotten our way.

Obstacles vanished one by one,
Increasingly slaying the beast.
Moments we thought we'd won
Are when we'd won the least.

We stretched out our hands towards the sky
Like wretched ghosts wrapped in disguise,
As though we had just found a new paradise
With the devil ahead leading as our guide.

We followed him throughout the land:
"This way leads us to the great fountain",
And now we're stuck in a desert of sand
Wondering when oases shall be attained.

We've taken a bet against our nature.
Was it anyone-in-particular's fault?
"For every curse there'll be a cure,
For every flood there'll be a drought."

Once more, again, we shall repeat,
To morrow, and for ever more.
When the sunshine now seems to greet
And when the darkness falls,

Comes that nighttime of our lives;
We ponder what we've been,
But what we're we supposed to be
When the pact was always sealed.

So we wait in such anxiety,
The impatience growing itchy;
And we amass, tall in piles,
To crash onto the shores like the sea.
Written in August 2016.
Kevin J Taylor Sep 2015
Depths of green—from canopy to forest floor
In streams of raucous livingness
And there, and where about, a sanctuary
Falls in heaps, in stone walls run aground.

And with, nearby, afar, by ins and outs
Through every place (perceived)
Wherever listened for—vibration.

A single voice in Pali—a single voice
Leaping, leading, dancing, sweeping.

Hello. You greet me.
Inspired by (Founder of Scientology) L. Ron Hubbard's poem, Hymn of Asia, and by my memories of long ago.

.
Not all poems survive. I've lost a few and let others go. My current collection of poems is available on Kindle. It is called "3201 e's" (that is approximately how many e's are in the manuscript which is a very unpoetic title but a reflection on the creation of poetry from common things.)
Shofi Ahmed Sep 2018
Bud of the winter dew on lips grow,
Snowy boughs surrounding began to unfold,
'Spring it shall flower' you must travel along, to see
When she will flower and in her very first glance,
Shall innovate the ether lapis-lazuli sky,
And the glamorous sun in her luminous dews,
She will cast her gaze towards the infinity,
And the veiled spring-night of tender full-moon,
With millions of star thriving, will be reflected upon;
She will whisper to the sleeping morning breeze,
And that will wake dancing the primrose's aroma,
Smoothly waving over the green meadows!

Who will let it be freely, purely, organic!
In whose innovate warm touch shall dissolve,
Poor winter's covering upon the earth,
Hence, once again green earth shall cast,
A glance to its vernal zenana,
Beneath the sunny sky wherein the air,
Shall sniff the aroma of the radiant rose,
And the birds shall tour around,
Singing the song of freedom!

Endure, yet she is beyond the gaze of the sky!
Now a season poor as she has flown away,
Gone to address the assembly of the Angels!
Therefore, accepting an invitation from the fairies,
To have a bath in their lotus-pool, prior to flight.
Hence, delighted fairies all flew to the palace,
To give the news to Queen Mab!

And soon a while after they return,
Around the pool, they greeted and sang,
The spring while she steps into the pool,
They sing and dance, hail the spring:

'The troublesome thorn mingled into itself,
The long ugly arm has collapsed pieces itself,
And the beauty has broken through!
Behold! The shining sun under her shadow!
The beauty by her grace fathomless,
Gorgeous she looks, rosy winsome!
Make all dance her awakening fragrance,
Tenderness she breaths, and caresses the bliss,
With a heart of endless love,
Vivifies the file, pleasant, dynamic!'

Meanwhile, the maid of honour came with the news,
They wanted to hear 'the Houris too shall join them.'
Yet they are flowering themselves alike as they gaze,
Upon the adoring scene of divine, winsome, paragon, fashions,
Impressionist hairs of the Queen of Paradise!
Where lay upon the Throne, and youthful streams,
Flowing, surrounded by, and canopied by the sky
Of glory garnished by the millions of the divine artisans!
There the sun care greatest and offers harvest lights,
And now, she comes to the streams, she shall swim.
Therein the never fading water-lily will please her sight,
She will listen to the divine birds of joyfulness,
Singing the songs of the blissful souls,
In the name of the all praiseworthy,
The perpetual Creator, Allah.
As she will innovate the songs,
And the innovative image of the eternal creations,
Will be bestowed upon the spring and all the houris,
Shall greet the spring as they will pour
Flowery rain over the fairies' pool!

Listen, the angels sing 'Lo, the spring, '
Again and again, as she dives into the fairie's pool,
And dips out up to the earth! See for yourself:
As youthful as ever with the sun shining on her forehead
And the day on her flowers, with her the earth is radiant
Her soil is perfumed, she belongs to paradise!
I’m lucky enough
That I’m born free
You may like to oblige me
But I’m all obliged to
My surroundings where I live

I have said to the Englishman
The life free of crime is inevitable to me
Polite sunlight comes on me
And I rest

As if I’m a retiree
Perhaps I might read a short story
But I have no obligations
I’m happy; today’s my daughter’s birthday!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SUKHJEET!

Dr Baljit Singh
Thursday 12 September 2019
Perched before the mirror,
my eyes open to see
the greatest of loves there in front of me

With a smile, a chuckle,
a nod and a wink
I’m falling in love above my bathroom sink

My ocular captions
are fixed in a gaze
and neither denies
our lust-worthy ways
Never before
have I seen such a marvel
Brought almost to awe
yet I recant such sparkle

For my status is equal
or better than such
I say with full modesty
(as if I must)
The greatness exuded
Displayed on both sides
It is something that I
and the other can't hide

All of those who now know
and all those who shall see
will admire and greet us
down on bended knee
Consternation displayed
only to be outdone
by illustrious gestures
to this royal son

But enough of the rest,
there is just you and I
“All of those poor, poor people”,
we say with a sigh
They will truly not know
what it is to be us
When you don't have to worry
And don't have to fuss

This supremacy life
is a difficult one
My heart would feel pity,
(If I had one)
Instead it’s disgust,
disdain and the like
The fuel that's propelling me
forward with blithe

Still across from me now,
a reverent sight
Another near equal
and one who just might
be the only one worthy enough possibly
To stand here beside me for others to see

They think they all know
but know nothing they do
It's the jealousy had by them
for I and you
They’re like chlorophyllic plants
Dripping in so much envy
They try and they try;
They try to prevent me

From being the greatness
I know I can be
If just given a chance
Then perhaps they would see
But alas, in the end
it doesn't mean ****
What I care for is me
Only me
and that's it

Except my love for you
It's so deep can’t you see?
It is real
I can feel it
I truly believe
Only you I can trust
The one person who matters
The one I turn to
when life breaks and it shatters

All others are pawns
I can move on the board
Sacrificial pieces
for falling on swords
No dispute; I am king
Come stand here with me
It’s us versus them
And trust me they’ll see

It might not be today
It might not be tomorrow
But it will be soon
when they join me in sorrow
Make all of them pay
For what they’ve done to me
For the pain they’ve inflicted
Their fault, you will see

Anything that I do
Even though I will try
They keep holding me down
No idea; Don't know why
They are all out to get me
So plainly can see
But one thing you won't see
is not the last of me

Here, take my hand lover
and come with me now
We'll go out in the world
and together show how
Their pathetic existence
can benefit us
We may step on some ants
But there's no need to fuss

The hole that is empty
That is our damnation
Use things superficial
Instant gratification
It's a short-term "fix"
But will make-do for now
In our path, leave destruction
This much I will vow

Happiness, thoughtfulness
or concerned empathy
Some examples of words
unfamiliar to me
Therefore, no one can feel it
Must feel like I do
Only then I'm complete
Feeling I belong too
Written: August 31, 2017 (revised February 3, 2019)

All rights reserved.
shamamama May 17
.                                                 sea and sand,                                          .
                ­                          salt and surf, foam and
                                       froth, greet and gather, tumble
                                    and turn, rock and roll, spray and
                                 spin, cross and current,                roar        
                               and rise, crash and curdle,                mix
                            and mash, blend and bash, drip
                         and drop, pour and plunder, leap and
                     layer, mound and mist, shine and sheen, scoop
                  and scale, spread and span, fall and falter, leap and
               layer, splash and spire, bubble and brine, writhe and write
         s             e            a           w           o           r            t           h           y
reflections on the ocean surf
Kevin J Taylor Jul 2017
I was walking down the road
Just as happy as can be
And all the leaves upon the trees
Were waving back at me

I saw a curly snail
As he stretched to greet his day
Then headed down the road with me
Then stopped to stretch again

I saw a pretty sparrow
She was perched upon a wire
She sang a song—I sang along
We made a lovely choir

The snail conducted from a twig—
Just so, our song began
“Happy Birthday to You!”
Did you hear us as we sang?

We had a happy party
As we danced around—We three!
And we wished you Happy Birthday!
Just as HAPPY as can be!
.
Not all poems survive. I've lost a few and let others go. My current collection of poems is available on Kindle and in paperback. It is called "3201 e's" (that is approximately how many e's are in the manuscript which is a very unpoetic title but a reflection on the creation of poetry by common means.)
If sometimes
You are asked
"How are you?"

You got nothing
Yet respond that with
"I miss you."

That's what
You really are
You really were
Genre: Abstract
Theme: Psychological truth
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2012
Now upon this stage I stand
with bloodied heart and soul in hand.
It’s mine to choose which step I take
and mine a lone decision make.

Forgive the painful sins long past
and rise above this hate at last?
To love this life once more I find
was just beyond my heart and mind.

Forgiveness which is just the start
for now I’ve found inside my heart
To see you in a different light
as guided by a Hand of might

I’ve waited for the strength to stand
To dance upon this stage again
I feel the cold black curtain lift
and greet this day, a newborn gift.

Many more will come this way,
for those of you I only pray
may you find peace as love’s restored
and find the feet to dance once more.
All poems are copy written and sole property of Vicki Kralapp.
ryn Apr 2015
As the violet of day
draws to a close...          
Witnessed the dwindling
vermillion sun,             
being swallowed  
by the horizon.
Ever so slowly,
       seconds stretched...
      This moment here...
Captured...      
and                
froze.        

    Brushing off
the indigos  
  and                
blues.          
of the past,
            Whilst I shed these
scarlet tears.
Burdened with
              unfounded speculation
and fears.        
Gifted the        
lease of bravery
but I know...        
it wouldn't last.      

A final skirmish            
between                          
night and light.            
My crimson wings    
spread to greet the.        
green evening air.            
Feather and wind.            
spoke to each other;      
quivered as if              
the same story        
they shared.          
A conversation    
              that ended quickly before
both took              
flight.                        

To the                        
highest heavens,
leaving a          
trail of leaves
from days of
yellow...        
  Flying past the
                 blushing orange cheeks
  of                        
sleeping clouds.
             Evading the beckoning
of                      
    night's curtains
and            
shrouds.  
    Into the sun,
I would go.
                Beyond world's end,
           I would follow...

To find you
                  where the universe
                      would run its course.
                      I'd gladly soar through
       spectrum's grain,
Through        
      unfamiliar realms
and                  
              warped new planes.

Why?          

Because      
blood red  
rubies          
pump            
through mine
and                
garnets          
flow              
      through yours...
Deb Jones Sep 2018
People can fall into the habit of feeling low. We can get used to anything,
Especially bad things.
Doesn’t that scare you?

Get up off the floor.
Get dressed in something,
Light and flirty.
We WILL be getting *****.

Did you think the way up is easy?
I am teasing you,
It actually is.
First you raise your eyes

You make eye contact
With the first person you see,
Walking towards you.
They will look back at you.

They will first look confused.
Then look conflicted.
Do they know you
from somewhere?

The social awkwardness
Will try to stifle you.
Don’t drop eye contact,
Don’t blink.

Just slowly smile.
Let the smile calm this stranger
Don’t look away.
This is the best part

As you close the distant
And are ready to pass,
Say casually
“It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?”

The person will relax
And their sweet smile will greet
The next stranger.  
And they will make eye contact.

Something so simple,
Can not only make you feel
Connected and good  
But you have paid it forward

To a stranger.

Let’s all start drawing straight lines
across this crooked world.
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