"ideally" poems
I can lay
right next to you
and never touch you
I can see you smile
from across the room
without kissing you
I can watch you
leave the room
and resist hugging you goodbye
But sometimes
when I'm next to you
you have to ask me to move away
Because for a few minutes
I let fantasy get confused with reality
and I lean against you during a movie
And it's so warm
your arm and mine, touching
for that minute I'm at peace
But when you ask
of course I make room
Because I don't want you to feel uncomfortable
And if you weren't my friend
I would probably try it
just once, to know what it would be like to kiss you
But ideally,
I'll get over this
and when I am, we'll still be friends
So in the meantime
I try not to think about kissing you
and I only hug you when I have reason to
What I'm saying is
I will do what I can
to keep myself sane and our friendship intact
But just know
that with every look I give
I wish I could give so much more.
Nov 30, 2013
Nov 30, 2013 at 2:24 AM UTC
Did you know that if you don't stretch in the correct way, you might end up thwarting the entire purpose of your workout and suffer unwanted injuries?
Doing pre-workout stretches thoroughly will determine whether you are benefiting from your workout or whether it's worsening your muscle tear. Here are the major stretching crimes that you should never commit.
Not doing a proper warm-up
According to gym instructors worldwide, this is the most commonly committed crimes in any gym. A warm-up is a must before any kind of workout — cardio or weights — and must ideally last at least 12-15 minutes.
Assuming that stretching is a warm-up
Stretching and warming up is not the same. You need to warm up first, before you are ready to stretch. A slow jog or brisk walking on the treadmill is a good warm-up.
Rushing through your stretching exercises
Stretching should be for the entire body. You cannot skip any parts. Involve stretches that work your lower back, shoulders, calves, stomach, quads etc. You should not move from one stretch to the other in very quick succession because that may cause untoward injuries. Try to hold each stretch for 20 seconds. When you breathe deeply and hold the stretch, your muscles get trained to tolerate the maximum that your limbs can go to.
Giving stretching a skip after a workout
You have done an hour of strenuous exercise and now you just want to rush out of the gym; that is a huge mistake. Spend some time bending and stretching after your sweat session. Then, do a cool down before you leave the gym.
Not stretching every day
You need to be your flexible best always and that can only happen if you stretch daily, even on the days that you aren't gymming. This ensures that your gym days are more fruitful and that you make the most of them.
Not breathing properly
Breathing right is a very important aspect of stretching. Breathe naturally while you inhale through your nose, expand your rib cage and upper abdomen as you fill in your lungs. When exhaling, breathe out through your mouth, preferably making an audible sound. This relaxes you. While stretching, you need to breathe out when you are exerting, that is, when you are actually contracting your muscles.
Doing static stretches
Never stand still and do stretches that work only one muscle. You should rather do stretches that work a group of muscles — like a lunge that stretches your upper hamstring muscle, your ankles and also your glutes.
Ignoring pain while stretching
When you are in the middle of a stretch and you feel pain, stop immediately and consult an expert. Your stretch should make you feel a gentle pull only, not immense pain. If you are hurting, you are doing it wrong. Rest a few days and then go back to working out under a qualified trainer.Read more here:www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses
Mar 31, 2015
Mar 31, 2015 at 5:40 AM UTC
Okay I'm a guy
and thinking something positively about
my body is something I've never even tried!
Deep breath... Deep breath....
alright, maybe This'll be for the best
ahem
Okay now to think about my body in a positive manner
I'm not the best looking guy but I can clean up and look dapper
I have curly hair and some ******* up teeth
but embracing my flaws is the only way to get over my raging insecurity
I may get inked up soon
ideally on my birthday at high noon
yes I'm a guy and I'm not Charles atlas
but I'm taking my body off of my mental blacklist
May 23, 2015
May 23, 2015 at 3:21 AM UTC
I love everything about you. I love your smell, from the way your cologne and deodorant sticks to your freshly washed skin to the way your natural musk smells when you sweat through a hot summer night stuck to me. I love how your skin is always soft, it brushes up against my thighs and cheeks like a blanket of the highest quality. Your voice is deep, but comforting and I adore all the sounds your body makes, especially the little grunts and sighs. When you speak soft words in my ear, I just melt into soft butter and I even love the way your silly words tease me, even when I get upset. Your bone structure is manly, but in a way that your body wraps around mine ideally when we hug. The way your eyes sparkle in the sunshine is like fairy dust and I could get lost in your gaze forever.
Your hand fits into mine perfectly and your tongue twists perfectly with mine when our lips collide. The movement of your hips with mine is like a metronome to my heart. All you could do is sleep and eat and I would never get tired of watching you. If you were a colour, you would be your favourite, purple, because it represents devotion, pride, mystery, magic and nobility. If you were a smell, it would be freshly cut grass on an early summer morning. Most people would say love feels like a sunny summer day, but ours is like one of those spring days where the temperature is fit for flowy dresses, but the sky is filled with some dark clouds that pass in the evening and there is a slight warm wind breezing through everyone's hair. Every single evening when you tell me you love me over the phone my stomach flutters with butterflies. As an item, you would be my favourite comfy old sweater. I love every single imperfection on your skin and in your soul. If I were to describe hanging out and having fun with you, the closest thing I could compare it to is the first bite of a freshly baked warm cinnamon pastry. I used to hate the idea of life, but if we were to create a family I would actually want to grow old with you. If there exists a heaven, it would be us sharing a fresh lemonade and chuckling next to a lake where tiny birds chirp and eat the crumbs of the bread we baked together. If you were a drink, you would be high quality whiskey and lastly, if you were a person, you would be mine.
Aug 15, 2023
Aug 15, 2023 at 6:49 PM UTC
no emotionally ecstatic experience compares
to the seminal instance
whence spermatozoa
(from profuse *********** beget
the miraculous propensity
to procreate despite the steep odds
female fertility fosters potential impregnation
fusing the hereditary debt
of feral, fiery, fomenting friskiness
fueling fancy free footloose fornication
prior to seminal fertilization union
sans ova doth induce fret
full ness in tandem with
diametrically opposed exultant sensations
(biologically, embryonically, microscopically,
et cetera) seismic shocks inject
when deliberate intent arises to disregard
applying prophylactics choice
plying reproductive roulette let
which analogous fruitful uterine plain
bastes the "cooking" egg omelette
which impregnation upends cessation of "self"
first and foremost asper desire to breed
wrenching role of "me" as operative
of webbed world de jure upon
consummating that most miraculous deed
necessitating yet for the fecund female relief
from messy menstrual cycle
she becomes temporarily freed
that perhaps a novitiate (or even a gal practiced
in the euphoric family, she instinctually
abides prenatal signals that heed
without feeling debased, harangued, lectured
pedagogical, polemical, puritanical, et cetera blast
assessing copulation enjoyed gloriously,
ineluctably, kinesthetically
lectured by elder, especially cast
in thee reel life drama, that nine months
til offspring utters initial whimper
elapses exceptionally fast
emitting a radiant golden halo wishing
to bottle confluence of hormonal secretions last
ideally fully awake to the birthing process,
when juiced the first stage of maternity past
cuz every moment thee inconsolably
(perhaps colicky infant)
gets first dibs to suckle,
which round the clock nursing
consumes moments many vast.
Apr 17, 2018
Apr 17, 2018 at 11:04 PM UTC
I have a hole inside my heart
A hole that's shaped like you
A hole so big I feel it ache
Every time I move
At first I didn't notice
I thought my heart was strong
I figured I was happy
Even though you were long gone
Physically I felt okay
Though my soul was torn apart
I pretended everything was fine
And I even played the part
I lived my life from day to day
In a cheerful, up beat manner
I was caught up in a world of firsts
And got lost in all the glamour
But as soon as I got home again
My heart began to crumble
Slowly it got worse and worse
So bad it made me stumble
Stumble over every thought that drove us both away
I wondered if I'd ever feel
Or love again someday
So now I live looking for a piece that will fit inside the hole
Anything that will complete my hollow little soul
Ideally you would mend me
By coming home to stay
But fantasies are empty dreams that keep despair at bay
I know that you are happy now
And I'm just a distant thought
The only thing I do regret is that I never fought
If you ever think of me
Remember that I tried
To give you all the love and joy
That a woman can provide
I loved you then
I love you now
And tomorrow is uncertain
The hole might grow or disappear but you will never be forgotten
Nov 20, 2013
Nov 20, 2013 at 4:17 PM UTC
"do you know that feeling when you
realise that you don't quite know
what you're missing (if
anything)
and never will?"
ideally i'd give you a level look: "yeah."
i want you to ask.
even if it's your last question and
a black sheep amongst all the others.
in reality i wouldn't look up again.
May 23, 2011
May 23, 2011 at 9:12 PM UTC
The Sun Is Shining Today
The Storm Has Finally Stopped
a statement says:
<we have done something yesterday
nothing like our best
just something
to stop that storm>
the statement returns true as fact
inconsequent gestures of nature
we weave
to serve an unknown wish
-made of numerous physical and non-physical senses-
so that fabric of a network
evolves itself
materializes sense
sense to fabric
fabric to sense
scientifically improbable it remains
an infinitesimal loop
unwinds when you are not there
runs within an ideally operating closed circuit
remains invisible to the factual eyes of daily lives
an etheric vitality
materialized by our definable senses of touch, of smell, of see, of taste
and some of yet undefined ones
- possibly assigned to maybe a Poetic Variable-
executable within that program of simultaneous causalities only.
So then Only then
When You Combine the patchy Network
of Things
of Beings
You Can Dance Them
Sing Them
Play Them
Make Love To Them
Become One With Them
Compose Them
but
All these on condition that
it remains as an unpacked gift
Without telling to Yourself
or to Others
or to That Storm
because
You Don’t Even Have An Intention To Stop The Storm
All you do is Wish for Sunshine so you can maybe bike tomorrow
But again
How important is it really that biking tomorrow ?
I mean when sighs and cries whirl around?
a statement says:
<you can’t stop wars by fights>
the statement returns true as fact
And
if I know that
you can stop storms by touches
touches to smells
smells to lights
lights to metals
metals to elements
elements to stars
stars to flights
flights to a breeze on my fingertips
breeze on my fingertips to an auric kiss
then
I think maybe it is **** important to keep a seemingly futile wish to bike to a beach of my dreams tomorrow
so that I can be blown away on a broken December day
and let my long hair collect dune corrals made of cosmic ray
Huh So Yeah
I can Stop Storms if I want to or Create Some!
- not because I need to for my own sake or think about it.
Mar 8, 2015
Mar 8, 2015 at 5:13 PM UTC
Losing you slowly..like a slow stream running drenching.
Draining down to a slow finger tips run drip.
It drips..
Before I can ever have even a sip.
Emotions will rip..
We were almost there reaching by finger tips...
Ahh the passionate intimates.
In my silky girly short lingerie slips.
The way its huggin at my hips.
As I desire the taste of your lips.
A romance may be gently dipped.
A touch of yours I want it equipped.
Touch me and whisper ever so low.
Making my river follow.....
Don't leave me with thirst..
I almost came undone the dream rehearsed.
I painfully reached without you there.
I must now proceed with care...Seek me where,
My lonely places you aren't there.
I know my not being there it isn't the way you prefer..
Try my wine..I can not ideally define...keep my scent within your mind.
I'm that precious Rose you'll find.
Sharday3 Rose
Feb 7, 2018
Feb 7, 2018 at 12:47 PM UTC
I need the beach
sand in the places
where
it's hard to reach
the sea
clotted cream and
strawberry jam for tea
You
at my side when
the tide comes in
bingo and
sin, oh!
the devil
says no
so
sand eels
fishing reels
catch of the day.
B and B
you and me
double room
ideally.
Jun 1, 2017
Jun 1, 2017 at 4:11 PM UTC
He lived his eighty years well,
they said
he often knotted his wrinkled hands around the smooth fleshed hands of his grandchildren
still, his heart gave out eventually,
swollen with love
I went to his funeral, a bystander,
an intruder of grief
I take flowers to his grave,
purple tulips with petals
that eat up rain clouds
and sunlight like a ****
taking nourishment from
the red and white roses that
neighbour them
photosynthesis,
I recall the word,
from chemistry classes
an age ago
I never knew him, though
I got his name from a newspaper obituary I ideally flicked through at 4am
I had never known old age, you see
and it seemed beautiful to me
Mar 25, 2016
Mar 25, 2016 at 9:31 AM UTC
I can do this too, when I'm not au naturel
And trying to beat all of your @sses with how well
I make the gentleman, how excellently I am the imp,
How swell I step, dancing, aside, how terribly I simp -
Sometimes catch me getting back and giving the barman a chance -
I heeded their call; I washed off the day, and stepped into a trance
Of raspberry, rose and sandalwood; I donned my blue and pink silk,
And my black boots, tights and blazer - She's got style; And in that ilk
I also painted my face, with blues, whites, pinks, blacks, golds
And it was late when I stepped out, and in the very holds
Of the night that a lady like I should find terrifying, but I walked
The quarter of an hour to the Silk Mill; talked
For something more like four or five,
Face sharp, hair artfully mad, alive
In every sense, aided by the fine cocktails in this student setting
I could enchant all in four languages, and I did, forgetting
For a bit that another one of my faces I believe to be repugnant:
Because it begs for attention; and my current, commanded it
Because I came expecting nothing, and asking nothing,
And I quite frankly didn't give a d@mn about much of anything,
But if I wasn't very much a part of the room, and very much she
Whom every boy needed to speak to, and would ideally keep the company
Of, if that wasn't I
Then every lie's a truth, and every truth, a lie.
Mar 20, 2022
Mar 20, 2022 at 11:15 AM UTC
If I took the lyrics of 'I can't make you love me' and 'See beneath your beautiful',
remixed them into a rap tainted with Eminem's vengeance and Ed Sheeran's soul,
and plagiarized Beethoven's most romantic composition to bring it to life,
maybe I would come a little closer to expressing my true feelings, if at all.
To tell you, though you already know, that I am in desperate need of saving.
I'm showing all the symptoms such as losing control, sense, rationality, sight,
and only you can cure me, not because of the doctor you're studying to be,
but because you are both my Superman and kryptonite.
I spend my days searching for a replacement, an alternative, a pastime,
but of course it's impossible as nothing can substitute perfection.
So I wrestle insomnia to dream of you, but I don't, I'm wide awake,
it's a nightmare. Then I pray only to behold that I'm denied salvation.
However as an intelligent, smart, independent young woman,
with my hair down, head held high and hips swinging to the beat,
I try to channel my energy elsewhere. Amidst all the positive thinking
tequila takes over and I return to my cold bed, with aching feet.
Ideally I want to be the woman you love, or realistically your ****
on the contrary I'm Neo from Matrix who took both pills.
Bewitched by your once in a blue moon texts, ignoring the red siren
in my head blaring, "nothing makes you stronger, it only kills!"
I have nothing exceptional to offer, so I do not know how to pitch
my average intelligence, talent, wit, personality and body.
Unless God, who you have no faith in, by some miracle
leads you to this, yet another one of my mediocre poetry.
Oct 29, 2012
Oct 29, 2012 at 9:20 PM UTC
trending
trending
trending
the collective's trending
is unending
this form of trending
has proven to be mind bending
trending
trending
trending
it's as though the collective's trending
won't be ending
nor in the foreseeable future
will it be suspending
trending
trending
trending
would appear that the trending
is always ideally lending
to the collective's
trending befriending
trending
trending
trending
aren't tales of trending
made for those
who enjoy the extending
of a happy ending
trending
trending
trending
Sep 28, 2016
Sep 28, 2016 at 3:04 AM UTC
Do you want the truth?
I ideally I would want
A taller than me
By much
Blonde haired
Blue Eyed Boy
With no dark secrets
Or spare tickets
To the club
But what I keep getting
Is a dark haired
Dark eyed
Know it all
who drinks
till hes drunk
Smokes
till hes gone
And bleeds on the outside
Looking in
Listlessly
and amourously
For the first month.
And a quarter of the
Half.
Then he turns
Rambles softly
Moving On.
Oh What
a sweet tragedy
love.
And oh how stupid
we are
for
wanting
it.
Jun 17, 2010
Jun 17, 2010 at 4:49 PM UTC
I can't tell you how much I'm hurting
To acknowledge my pain is weakness
To share my weakness is pathetic
But I hurt, oh, I hurt
I can't tell you how much I want you to love me
Because to say it would be to jinx it
And to jinx it would be to lose you
But, by god, I wish you loved me
I can't explain how much I depend on you
Because to explain would be to trust you
And to trust you would be to make me vulnerable
But I depend on you. I really do.
I can't tell you all the little things I want you to say
Because to tell you would be to make them unoriginal
And to make them unoriginal would be to make them unsatisfactory
But I wish you would coddle me and tell me those things
I can't tell you how much I want to be yours
Because to tell you would be to give you power over me
And to give you the power would be to give you my leash
But I wish I could, and you would own me.
I can't tell you how twisted I am
Because to tell you would be to make you notice
And to make you notice would be to disgust you
But I wish you'd accept me
I can't tell you
I'm sorry for that
You've given me your trust
But I can't give it back
I can't explain
So I'll apologize
I simply don't want to be
Pathetic in your eyes
I can't confide
And I'll always feel remorse
But if I were to lose you
I'd feel much worse
I can't be who you wish me to be
So I'll keep who I really am
Under lock and key
I'll chain up my personality
So, ideally you'll see
The person you can't help but love
That person that leaves you starstruck
I'll hold back all I am
Because I am not your ideal
And your ideals are above me
So I can't let myself be real
I've shunned who I am
Because of who you are
I am bitter and angry
But you'll never see my scars
I want to let you closer
I want to try my luck
But deep down I know
I'm not who leaves you starstruck
Apr 14, 2013
Apr 14, 2013 at 10:18 AM UTC
She should be sexier than my dreams,
Even more so should she be supportive,
Not selfish at all she should ideally be.
She should be kinder than even me,
Even more so should she be cooperative,
Unimaginably beautiful she would be.
She better be the inspiration I need,
Even for my poetry apart from my life,
Converting my blues to brighter hues.
She should have in beautiful pairs,
Even both of her eyes along with hands,
Untamable be her spirit in the night.
She should have her arms slender,
Even her waist should be such a ******
Above or under it will never matter.
She should learn awesome cooking,
Even singing will my mother be teaching,
Only that she has to be willing to learn.
She will have my company all the time,
Even dessert will be present in the bedroom,
Only I will love the two of her softies,
And she can grab my golf *****
As my pole goes in and out of her hole.
Nov 1, 2016
Nov 1, 2016 at 4:01 AM UTC
Am I really self-centered?
Well, certainly am I not selfish
Always, do I help people in need
And you definitely cannot accuse me of greed
For my family, cousins and friends
My love and care has no end!
Am I really self-centred?
Not boasting, but am I kind
And loyal to a fault
Certainly, am I a compassionate adult
And do my best to empathise with people
As far as possible
Including even those who don't deserve it
Because, I know what it is like
To be ignored or laughed at
Hence, are there certain jokes
For which I do my best
To keep a poker face
Since, I do not appreciate insensitivity
After all, known am I, for my sensitivity!!
Am I really self-centred?
Yes, there are certain times
When I do tend to be self-obsessed
However, not too often do they come
In fact, often has my heart bled
Even when it was not required!!
Am I really self-centred?
Well, many a mistake have I made
However, always do I apologise
And give people space
I don't repeat my mistakes either
Because, truly do I care
For the wellbeing of others!!
Am I really self-centred?
Many a time, have I cried
Even for relatively small things
Doesn't that tell you something?
The fact that I care a lot
About other people's opinions
Should ideally show, that I am self-centred, NOT
In my life, have I learned a lot of lessons
And, over a period of time, changed for the better
Hope this at least provides the answer
To the question I have been repeatedly asking
Genuinely sorry am I, for all the time wasting
However, I am sure you would have understood by now
As to why and how
This issue means so much to me!!
May 19, 2024
May 19, 2024 at 12:45 PM UTC
Ideally,
9am
I would wake up and weigh myself.
Hopefully have gone down a pound.
I would have a 16oz cup of mint tea, maybe green to boost my metabolic rate.
No sugar, of course.
Maybe a handful of grapes, 60.
10a
Breathe in the morning air and stretch, feel my ribs, my hip bones, my chest and collar bones.
10:30a
Put on my workout clothes and go for a morning run.
1,
2, 3, 4,
5, 6, 7 miles.
11:15a
Drink a big cup of water.
Take a cold shower, it burns calories quicker.
11:45a
Have lunch.
Lettuce, 5
Tomatoes, 22
Cucumber, 8
Dressing, 120
Cut that in half. 60.
95 calories.
12:30p
Go out with my friends.
They tell me I have a perfect figure and should try on clothes with them.
"No, I don't really want to buy anything. I will just watch you guys try things on."
I start to become anxious because it's almost time for my afternoon workout.
3:15p
I throw my items onto my floor and jump into my workout clothes.
I run in the scorching heat, feeling like my lungs are going to collapse, panting and wheezing.
1, 2, 3, 4, 5 miles.
5p
Dinner.
Minestrone soup, 90
5:30p
Do some yoga stretching while watching some TV.
Drink diet coke and munch on sugar cubes.
8p
Final run of the day.
I must put on reflective gear because this is my longest run of the day and I will be out running late.
Okay. I got this. My legs feel weak and I am exhausted but I can do this. Slow pace. You got this.
1, 2, 3,
4, 5, 6
7, 8 miles
I collapse on my front lawn.
Panting, nearly feeling dead. But I did it.
Can't wait to do it all again tomorrow.
Aug 5, 2017
Aug 5, 2017 at 4:22 PM UTC
I am not in love, I tell myself. Faint words
do not reverberate, however, I know
that I am very good at fooling myself.
I should feel the vibration,
or so they say.
I am not in love.
Scribbled words running off
loose leaf.
Words left in the margins,
underneath the dotted line.
No Strings Attached
Or so they say.
I am not in love.
My hand on
the small of your back.
The taste of cold.
Wind blows headlines down
the sidewalk.
Adjusting coats and
gloves.
Skin remained covered,
to prevent frostbite,
or so they say.
How much prose
can relinquish this fire,
this intensity, which coincides
with disillusion?
When does an act of grace
become an act of convenience?
I am not in love.
*Every once in awhile you find yourself at a crossroad,
or you feel like you've reached a dead end.
Life is hard to handle sometimes, and so are the relationships we hold.
It's very confusing.
Especially when it is between two people of the opposite ***
The easiest way to explain this,
is that
it is not easy for most people to let themselves be vulnerable.
We all face so many hurdles in life,
trying to attain this goal that is (sometimes) unattainable.
Not all of our dreams will come true.
But that doesn't mean we should lose sight
or become discouraged.*
Or so they say.
That is why we are human.
We are willing to make these decisions
and prepare to accept the consequences in doing so.
We don't allow ourselves to take breaks, simply because life does not stop.
We push forward. We strive. Although, sometimes life catches up to us.
We become irritable.
We become confused.
We become tired.
My life: far too much scrutiny.
In the end, I put too much thought into something
that changes my perspective.
Usually a distorted one.
That is why shutting down in a neurotic state is accepted.
A cool down period,
when all the while we know another meltdown is around the corner.
I am not in love.
Ideally, words should have the same
encompassing power.
But seeing as how I can not
determine what works well
for me, I have conditioned
myself to being adaptable.
No rhyme or reason,
will ease the pain
that seems to follow
your name.
And that is why
I repeat faint words.
I am not in love.
She never was.
Dec 29, 2012
Dec 29, 2012 at 12:17 PM UTC
limiting reactant: that’s you & that's me
both of us standing on a cliff,
neither of us jumping
is this chemistry worth the kind that will decompose our hearts at the bottom of the ocean
or the kind that burns my empty hands
ideal law: ideally, breaking it
you're in the driver's seat, wrist on the wheel
our pulses driving the car and pulsing in the floorboards
speed, velocity, distance,
the physical sciences
(my lipstick distracts you from the road)
balancing equations:
you: black flame, glistening furiously
me: god knows what i am but clear and soft
disaster: the explosion is all-consuming, a violent display of reactivity and fire
people stand in awe, wishing they could be destroyed by something so beautiful
Dec 26, 2015
Dec 26, 2015 at 11:51 AM UTC
I know I last heard your voice 16 hours ago.
That I last saw you 24 hours back.
That I last kissed you 68 hours ago.
I know it hasn't been that long.
Well I know that ideally I am supposed to say that.
But I miss you.
And I always want to be around you.
I always want to kiss you.
I always want to hear you laugh.
To watch you smile and to watch your eyes sparkle whenever we spoke.
I want to be in your presence.
**** man.
I miss you
Jan 4, 2024
Jan 4, 2024 at 10:33 AM UTC
A quarter to one at 3 in the night
could ideally be fun, not without warning.
Sitting alone in a room full of one
waiting for clues that glue the hour,
Fluidly spacy in the psychedelic lull
of drifting silence just half past none.
One and three quarters align
magically, weeks have just gone by.
Poetry is depressing to some.
Cheer up now, the waning comes.
Jul 28, 2014
Jul 28, 2014 at 5:20 AM UTC
I’ve something to tell you a moment to share
I’m pregnant, we’re pregnant or whatever you care
A union of two, a propagation of love
Forever together, no longer just us.
The biggest joy, we cannot yet share
Our little secret, our baby, our heir
Irrational fears and high expectations
but ideally good health and strong relations.
We will laugh, we will cry, always love never hate
Our bundle of joy encased in hope so great
When the weather is grey and the lights are dim
Ther'll be warmth, comfort and hope within.
Our parents become grand and siblings will grow
A new baby, the youngest, the highest low
First words, first steps great feats alone
A voice a walk our baby has grown.
Nov 24, 2009
Nov 24, 2009 at 10:57 AM UTC
Ideally
Make up is done
To be beautiful
To be who we want to be
To feel pleased
Most often to look appropriate
And may be
To mask who we are
Blessed are those
Who don’t need it
And here, she is
With a divine smile
Profound
Such is
An epitome of beauty
Dear
Aug 11, 2022
Aug 11, 2022 at 10:48 PM UTC