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Godawan Nov 2
Simplicity catches
Action teaches
Words sound fine
Only when they suit our calls
Without love *** is
Only a lust that
Leaves marks on our souls
Carter Ginter Oct 2012
Unspoken feelings, they cry out in the night.
You hold my heart frozen, so wrong but so right.
My dreams scream for you, my body aches in withdrawal.
Baby you're a drug and I'm in for the haul.
Addicted to the pain, addicted to the feeling.
I'm an addict, a lover, just a human being.
You were never good for me, that's what you would tell.
I said I'd stay standing, but so quickly I fell.
One kiss, one touch, one day at the park.
My love it unravels, but only alone in the dark.
I never had told you, the way I really felt.
As you'd hold me so close, my heart it would melt.
You made me feel safe, for once in my time.
The happiest I've ever been, when I thought you'd be mine.
Yet I was sadly mistaken, just lost in a haze.
I was high off your love, but for you it was solely a phase.
L B Nov 2016
Not the lone glory of an orange
basking in Depression’s dusk—
its fluted bowl of purple glass

Nor the fall ways of amber
Leaves burned by roadside
curling smoke’s sun-lit sash

Not tree-lined streets
rabid leaves’ raspy voices
whirling giddy in the wind—

...in none of these

But in the moments I filled with fixing
a lamp shade
painting this place
to a stern perfection

...I thought of you
ordering the tyranny of me
the glass of me
the concrete conscience
I must be right!  Mustn’t I?

The religion of our lives
Driving through Sundays with Polkas blaring
feeding the ducks
and a roast at noon
Waffles and TV later
Lassie and You Asked For It
Wiping my mouth on a Sunday sleeve

I asked for it, alright

He came and went
to the smell of Ice Blue Aqua Velva

He came and went larger than life and first on the scene
to hurricanes, fires, muggings, and races
and of course—THE SHOP!
in an amazing array of uniforms and vehicles
Ambulances, wreckers, pickups, and police cars

He was terrifying! Wonderful!

We would love at a pained distance

His cabinet in the cellar was always locked
But now, just suppose—

if a kid were to haul on its handles...
supposedly—the sheet metal would heave and roar
with the thunder of him!

And those late nights
those harsh ****** lights
lidded hundred watt cones
in the spotlight of THERE
where I wasn’t
in the odor of oils too noxious to dare
beyond the girlish shadows—

he cleaned his guns

I waited and watched where everything seemed
to be
What...?
It seems—he just pushed her against a wall!
I step from girlhood
with my two-cents worth
and it seems I will not be Queen for a Day!

I take my vows!
I swear I will not scrape wax
from the corner of the kitchen floor with a knife!

I have waited.  I have watched
the routines of his mornings
He’s brushing his teeth; he’s combing his hair
he’s tying his shoes while he chats with the cat
I can tell you the creak of the stairs
and the sound of his footsteps rounding the house

...the routine of his return at supper
the routine of anger
My routine of being late—
and as good as dead
squeezing behind—
HIS CHAIR
Praying he wouldn’t notice the mud
Praying for the epiphany of his good mood
when the TV and me--

wouldn’t be blamed for the downfall of the nation
We were not Polish, but my Dad's French-Canadian family lived in a Polish community.  Thus, the fused culture and all the happy, Sunday Polka music.

Lassie, You Asked For It, and Queen For a Day were popular TV programs of the 1950s.
matilda shaye Nov 2014
Touch me, I am fragile but I know I will not break. If you look at me long enough your eyes will start to water based on the saltiness of my skin because of the sea's I've swam to get to the place I'm in now. Open, closed, I've ran back and forth a hundred times, I am the weakest link and the leader of the group. If you sawed me in half you'd see three things: my barely pumping heart, a toxic amount of love, and a will to survive.

Touch me, but be gentle, because although I learnt to withstand even the deadliest of summer heat your cold heart isn't something my body is used too. Close your eyes, count to ten, am I on your mind? No. Throw me into the ocean. I'm no use to you then. It's cloudy but it doesn't rain, mid 70's but no humidity, my heart is sore, but I'm breathing. Oh god, I don't know how, but I will continue.

Touch me, be rough, *****, make it a melody and prove to me all I'm missing out on by not being enough for you. Afterward, I want a list of ten things I can change so that I will be enough for you. Make it a hundred if you have too, I just want to be enough for you. Staple it to my forehead, toss me in the ocean. I'm not here for your approval, only my own, and I don't think I'll be content in who I am until I'm something you think is worthwhile. Push me on the ground and kick me as hard as you can, make this pale skin your canvas, I want bruises and blood, six broken bones and a concussion to match. Make me hate you. Babe, all I've got is love.

Touch me, one last time, but don't let go until the end of this lifetime. This love became a competition long ago, and boy do I love to win. Tonight the universe spoke to me and it told me here is where I need to be, and I think it wants me to fight. Put on your armor, give me some weapons, I'm here for the long haul and I'm taking every prisoner I can. Touch me because I am weak and I need to learn to be strong so I can withstand this, 'cause baby this love feels like seeing a doctor coming towards you with a needle the size of your head, "oh don't worry sweetie this will only hurt a tad", *******. I still felt it a week after. But this one, ****. I'll be lucky if it doesn't still sting in a year...

Touch me, please. I'm begging you. I need to feel alive, but you've been suffocating me and my heavy heart. How am I supposed to survive when loving you feels like death?
Semihten5 Nov 2018
have you ever haul
you knows the waters
I got hit land
I don't join in the hunt
you will not find in stalemate
always at the back of the shadows

(Half Poem Tecnichal)
Elena Dec 2018
The hole is deep enough for the two of us
And yet we keep on digging!
To haul each day a heavy load
Is this the life worth living?

I hear the wailing in the distance
I feel the heavy hooves beating down
The stubborn mule never listened
And the steed chased but never found

The gift of life can give or take
Like corn in a drought mid harvest
Corn stalks can grow in numbers
Or growing hunger serves to starve us

So when the wind no longer howls
We will see the trees stop flailing
And when the eyes can see the road
We can trust the sailor sailing.
Chris Apr 18
The three wheeled truck sees the fours and asks itself "Why can't I be like that?"
The three wheeled truck has two four wheeled parents, but still only has three wheels.
The three wheeled truck is a bit slower than four and is unable to haul as much.
The three wheeled truck is left to rust.
Enjoy.
Harry May 2015
The problem with love is that it’s as painful to lose
as it is beautiful to hold.
I was the eye of a needle in the eye of a storm;
Everything calm and clear where we stood under parity
Oblivious to my distant surroundings
And obsessed with the clarity.
Fresh air never smelt so good.
I knew they never truly felt I could survive but I could.
Now everything’s clear
And I am, this time, prepared;
My glass is half full but I’ll be careful not to spill my thoughts again.
My farcical haul through rugged-rough storms
And trivial pain
Has come to an unexpected but welcomed end.
Lucius Furius Aug 2017
Garden Parkway YMCA
Dallas, Texas
22 November 1963

Darling Sophie,

Could it be only two months since I let your fingers slip from my hand as that train departed Voronezh station? I fear that this trip was a great mistake. . . .

The boat sailed from Sevastopol as scheduled. Just two days and we were through the Bosporus/Dardanelles and into the incredibly blue Aegean and the Mediterranean. On September 27 we passed Gibraltar and started the long haul across the Atlantic. The work was not demanding though the ship was quite ***** and not really very pleasant.

We docked at Houston in the state of Texas on October 9. Defecting was surprisingly easy. There was supposed to be work in Dallas so I walked/hitch-hiked here last month. But I have not been able to find any work.

The people here, though friendly, are coarse and brash. The stores overflow with televisions, record players, mink coats, but there are many very poor people here too...

The great American leader, Kennedy, was shot and killed today, driving in his open-topped car along the streets of this very city.

My money is gone; my strength, exhausted. How blithely I left you and Russia behind! I feel my lips brushing the tiny hairs on the back of your neck, your ******* swelling. . . . Sophie! May you know great happiness and love! I only ask that in the spring when you visit Krymskaya Pond, that you remember how we knelt there, how I whispered in your ear there, when the air is filled with the scent of its cherry trees that you remember what we felt there. . . .

  Yours, always,    Nickolay
Hear Lucius/Jerry read the poem:  humanist-art.org/old-site/audio/SoF_055_sophie.MP3 .
This poem is part of the Scraps of Faith collection of poems ( https://humanist-art.org/scrapsoffaith.htm )
Mark Sep 10
There's now proof, that a Russian flesh-eating cannibal is in the good old US of A

He would offer you toxic ingredients, including gasoline and lighter fluid, I'd say

But, because its tell-tale scaly sores, are similar to another well known leacher

They initially played down concerns, saying, "they're not seeing signs of the creature"

My boyfriend had maggots coming out of his leg, after a recent foreign scare

I know people don't want to hear stuff like that, but it is really happening out there



Snap goes the toothless crocodile, one, two, three

Wangsta da Gangsta, had a great haul

Ring a ding a ling, 'cause they deliver the first for free

Jim and Joan went into da hood, to fetch nothin' much at all



They fall to the charlatans, that promise you a crystal ball

A little at first and then some more, that's for sure

It will make you snap, give you curls and dance you a little twirl

Star gazing thru the sun ray and day tripping into a wayward night

That's why if you use crocodile juice, it will do more than shake ya loose

Destroying our souls, creating huge holes and build mountains out of moles



Snap goes the toothless crocodile, one, two, three

Wangsta da Gangsta, had a great haul

Ring a ding a ling, 'cause they deliver the first for free

Jim and Joan went into da hood, to fetch nothin' much at all



Mr Jeffrey Vint has become less popular among his abusers

I say, "they're all losers", but I guess, beggars can't be choosers

Some mother's even gave birth with two thumbs, but those babies are now total ****

Others think the monster could be at large, maybe roaming your neighbourhood  

Put a stop to this croc's chomp, before it destroys everything in the swamp

Get your doctor to prescribe a stronger drug, to conquer that evil imposter  



Snap goes the toothless crocodile, one, two, three

Wangsta da Gangsta, had a great haul

Ring a ding a ling, 'cause they deliver the first for free

Jim and Joan went into da hood, to fetch nothin' much at all.
Jude Oct 2017
I listen to the worst music, and you know
I wanna capture you inside the songs I throw
Spitwads at the back of your head
Insisting on the dark of the dead
I'm pining to make it back to your embrace
I wanna slap the smile off your stupid face
Come on, chase me, you're it and I'm in for the long haul
You're it and I'm gonna crash or I'm gonna fall
I'm at your mercy but the mercy is mine
Laying the trail for you is **** divine
We're far, we're close, we're the hit before the overdose
We're drawing you in, again, now we're comatose
All or nothing, we're black or white or somewhere in between
We're Pleasantville, we're Brand New, we're Technicolor, Sheen
You make me dance, you make me dive
You make me feel so ******* alive
In the way a deer feels running from a bear
I live for the chase and I don't care
If I get my way, we'll be young forever
I always get my way, so never say never,
We'll fly three stars to the right and on til morning
and if you choose me, life will never be boring
Let go of your fears and let's sail
We've got eternity on this trail
10/4/2017
caroline Jan 15
my expectations are set at the stars
so I prepare for the long haul
but the higher I get
the farther it seems
and the harder, it seems, I’ll fall
The X Rhymes Apr 15
the restaurant bins were backstage wings
and ‘Bella’s dressing room
no overtures of spectral strings
no orchestra to tune

the brooding silence ‘Bella planned
would creep across the set
and make her theatre of the ******
the best performance yet

so when she dimmed the lights to low
the atmosphere grew tense
it signified her vampire show
was ready to commence

the curtain rose on concrete sprawl
of city streets at night
past backdrop walls of spray paint scrawls
she entered from stage right

as grey mist danced a pirouette
she floated through the air
as dry ice clouds, in etiquette
might unveil something rare

with forked electrostatic
the supernatural sort
my flair for the dramatic
remains intact, she thought

and passing over street debris
of bottles, bags and cans
left and right she looked to see
‘Bella’s leading man

who this dusk she’d meet to mark
their former glory days
before she’d betrothed unto dark
while wed to light he’d stay

their differences unreconciled
the rules, they’d found, could bend
and from each other’s worlds exiled
they’d stayed the best of friends

those paramours would rendezvous
away from sunlight’s glare
front and centre, bang on cue
and yet he was not there

arriving fashionably late?
he’d never be so rude
nobody made Bella wait
her mood became subdued

their human/undead peace accord
was due beneath this moon
no anniversary ignored
he’d be there surely, soon?

so, landing by a lamppost
she drew back slow her hood
her skin the white preferred by ghosts
her mouth the red of blood

and dragging fangs across her lip
she rolled her emerald eyes
her shadow hands his throat would grip
should he materialise

once face to face and cheek to cheek
she’d breathe into his ear
like Transylvanian, vampire-speak
“long time, no see, my dear.”

this night they’d both vowed not to miss
and always kept their word
a warm embrace, a gentle kiss
no consequence incurred

for human touch and living skin
once every year, this night
came Bella’s lust for carnal sin
with one she would not bite

since love conducted on the sly
will keep its sense of fun
and that’s the second reason why
they kept it from the sun

vampires don’t turn into bats
as stated in folklore
but may in darkened habitats
use sonar to explore

it’s like the fabled siren’s song
unheard by human ears
that makes it known and whets the tongue
when haemoglobin nears

she sent it down the roads and walls
a plaintiff, high-pitched cry
a kind of vampire mating call
that garnered no reply

just sweepers sweeping gutters
from late night litter louts
the clang of closing shutters
as neon signs winked out

and engines growling down the street
from taxis on the prowl
an urban fox caught indiscreet
by CCTV owls

that’s how the night proceeded
until the sky turned blue
and the street lights all conceded
since they’d much less to do

the problem is, if you don’t age
it’s hard to work out when
the last time was, it’s hard to gauge
what’s one year and what’s ten

since time moves in fast motion
in dark affairs of heart
with high costs for devotion
when dead right from the start

so Bella came to realise
though she’d not aged at all
in one blink of vampire eyes
the mortal man could fall

her audience of one was gone
her leading man had died
no roses thrown in great aplomb
his rave review, denied

the roles they’d made had now been played
with no awards to haul
and no cascade of accolades
just one more empty stall

her vampire life had been so sweet
but now the debt was due
the price - a heart that just won’t beat
but can still break in two

this gaping hole she’d never fill
no matter the blood drawn
and so she waited patient, still
and saw first light of dawn

and as the glow of morning fire
stained the clouds like rust
this Nosferatu, vampire
became no more than dust

those paramours perhaps would meet
in heaven or in hell
but with the vampire show complete
the final curtain fell.
See also
‘Bella Lugosi.
Michael John Sep 2018
if you could see you(me)
i´d see nothing new
mayhap a crack or two
with a **** come through..
that would be all..
the distant call
of an owl..
a thin haul..
wait i can!
a bird with
in sight
of land..
the forest
of love!
song as sweet
from pan..
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