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Tommy Randell Dec 2014
To loosen with my bare hands
the wide air between us
in explaining something of meaning
I almost feel
I am pulling flesh
from the living and moving moments
possible here.

It is somehow breaking
the natural order of things
to use words alone
of all viable means
in setting out the wind-waves and rivulets
of ideas internally flowing -
but I must try and get something out for once.

I circle in bad phrases
prickling with the itchiness of sharing,
I send out a few vague words
horrified and perplexed
at their translation now they are naked
knowing you too listen
and they are at last unalterable.

Deep in the brain, far back
this is my bad time
but I know where the roots go
down into me
and from the storm’s heart
perpetual agitation pumps hand in hand
with calm acceptance.
The self *****, alternately
to fan and to freeze
whatever doubts or unease are burning.
Talk travels the spaces between us
through the clear air
in the kind of silence
surviving bones may know swinging in a wind.

But I know stillness can become alive
when living mouths bring their hearts to bear -
ears can well hear
what the breath has to say,
as the eye sees
the body’s smallest noises -
face to face we are a field of listening.

The warm comes without sound.
This is only the edge of a becoming.
We are not trapped in the lips -
already we lean inward
to know of each other and to give
not words for the wind
but a dance at ease with all that flows.
Robin Carretti Jul 2018
This is not, a time to loosen up
Or nine to five job to give up
Just saddle up the power is in you
Five ladies cafe to dine at five and
drove_* the meter is running
(The Canadian Cup) team versus the
     Taxi Cup
He swooned you in your
Five dreamy but half heart sugars
Come on Baby bloomers
Let's see some boom!!

In your hips men will be men taking
frequent flyer trips temptation 1 2345
We need fewer digs one love teo reasons
World  345  heart flags
We don't have to cross our hearts
Perhaps tattoo heart legs no more strikes
Jumping Jack flash
What a rope in this isn't the Pope

Somehow we all get broke
To court her like your the lasso
stars cosmos hearts like Lassie
Never a change of subject how it
remains in your heart how it hit hard
to react but changed to five cards
Digging too long  lucky 777 like heaven
Heart digs

1-where?
Oh! There

No, I am here
We are always  
In-between
numbers_ I only
have 5 minutes
No I phone have a heart
Oh! where is designed for me
Those five plates

Whats in between them
      *Him

We are opening Live- Five
Strong heart to give the caring
The useful heart is never so daring
My gate* Girls are nail digging
Hugging

Or losing add +

Flirty
*****
Our community
Heftier like Jupiter
Heart to build
the gravity
A big kiss hunch
of five roses

Your getting to bloom
but only have
5 extra movie parts
The front dress mermaid tail
Your heart delicate hands
opened up your emails
I think you hit the
Jackpot

Max to the million shot
No heart of gold
Only more leaders
Scrambling and digging
your fork
Mixing those egg beaters

Five men think they know
there women
like ten
commandments
Turn to five wrong
engagements
There it goes the lucky
five arguments

A plot beating
like a hot-shot
The French Baguette
Bread 9 to 5 firecracker
Five-carat baguette
wedding band in her safe
Heart digs to five hands
Heart neck guilty as a giraffe

The cafe house had only
5 cups left  they sold you out
Only Five Bed and breakfast
stayers
Do detailed with their Ladyfingers
But need more alone time
Be on time get sweet key lime
What is real-time so sublime

That rose- paper cut- origami
Sorcerer of five he was like the
cold cuts of big Sub Salami
Japanese sword samurai
What a Geronimo Oh! no
Jericho
This wasn't a hot potato

Or Gizmo No-Go
Getting a shot for Polio
The gusto songs to the heart play
Maestro the Cosmo's
The five stars to heart his
afterglow
Like a titanic ship but heroics

Five lunatics wedding horns ******
Five two timer Mario gamers
so demonic
DOMINO'S bed five students wed
We dug deeper get-up sleepy-head
Exposed cries location set
Network U- dig cups

Something lip curved
He misplaced my lips
What did he do in exchange
More stocks and hard stone rocks
Like frying pan egg
scrambled words

Crossed heart Rapper so believing
The Fox five sticking tacky glue
His CD Rose lying pants no clue
Painful pointed shoes need R&R
     Robin's *Responsibilities
       The Heart On Replay
The deeper you dig to restart

The healthy organically grown brain
Men on Pause I truly believe nature
takes its course
but another beat to go is that so?
And if so heart digs to five
Feel the good vibe in another tribe
Five times I had to wake you up
I am the love cure reminiscing

Giving me five reasons
Our beautiful change of
heart in season

Studying the fine art heart
Referencing
Never refusing thats life
five-step to strive nothing
Fancy

Robin shoutbox she getting
her point across
Either you're the worker or loner
The heart pleaser the boss
Your heart looks good
on your dress
Whether we win or deep mess
The good heart can change to
a bad start

Recharge your heart count to five
Venus- beauty moved on like a
pathologist digging over staying alive
The hearts what digs this is not the 9-5 workers we are talkers
and long settling in heart walkers come any join me we may actually be alive did I get a live one
CK Baker Sep 2018
there’s a network
of vigilance
around the guarded
causeway
of walla walla
stacked cinders
smoking rails
(and weezers)
leave nothing
but black hood
fate

gray halls
and razor scrawls
mark the hellion crust
abandoned overtures
and dead fill
cloud the horror
and retribution
of this hell hole

bloaters and skin heads
(with wretched memoirs)
shout incessantly
from the
second floor
adolphus greely
reading over the
rights of nantucket
and banging his head
on the bent
steel bars

pockets pinched
and tumblers
dangling,
the stone walls
soften...
a seminal moment
crosses the roo house
as mother mary
and the good
painted warrior
loosen a
finely tuned grip
ConnectHook Sep 2015
STICK’EM UP with LIQUID NAILS

DANGER ! EXTREMELY FLAMMABLE
        See Other Caution on Back Panel:

I’m hot for you Cowgirl – you’re so flammable my glue-gun starts to melt; my screwdriver starts twisting when you loosen that low-slung belt. You make me feel like laying re-bar in a freshly-poured foundation. Shoot me up with that caulk gun baby – I need you like salvation. Ten and one-half fluid ounces – pull off your top, pop a love-cap in me. Fingerin’ your trigger while the job is gettin’ bigger so take me for a ride to the hardware store, honey, cause I’m seeing red and feeling white on your golden background’s sheer delight.  Hammer me a heart-full, spike me on a cross of blonde, I’m hanging ten, surfing the tube of your magic wand. I’ve been in love ever since I first waterproofed my seamy undersides with you… stand over me in those red, red boots, you Liquid Nails Girl – and from your pure white Stetson let righteousness unfurl. You won the shoot-out long before you even drew, my dear. Lost hope of the Wild West, Final Frontal Feminine Frontier – there’s only one side of you…  your GOOD side.  Just one look and your fearless gaze silences the foes, my blooming prairie rose.
YEE – HAW !  Be my angel, be my dream, my valentine rodeo queen, be my bodyguard, my therapist, long & tall & hard & wet – be my Liquid Nails Girl forever and I’ll ride right into your sunset…
They took her off the trademark tube years ago but she will NEVER be forgotten:

https://connecthook.wordpress.com/2013/08/20/owed-to-a-caulk-gun/
Albums line our library walls
Like dying leaves in early fall
Filled with sweetest memories
That sprouted from our family trees
Now colors fade, well worn by time
As pages loosen from the spine
To fall upon their earthen bed
And tell our stories in our stead
Poetic T Sep 2018
I clung to hope,
              but it was to tight
                             to loosen.

I swung silently in despair.
Kay Fischabch Dec 2017
her touch soften the stone
loosen up the bond no one could open up so far
merge 2 hearts together
united as one, feeling free
overwhelmed by the tension
just wanna watch her soul through the glassy eye
so gorgeous face, make it too easy to ease my eye
and rest restless in her arms
Sofia Von Jul 2014
Cigarette smoke
Wheels no spokes
Board rollin down alleys
Late night skate
Let me escape
The life I never planned

Never on time
You best lower your expectations

Snortin molly in the bathroom
Chuggin ***** in the hall
I could be anywhere at all
But I’d still crawl
back to the clutches of dependence
I forfeited life's race in the first lap
Yet I'm still trapped
Coughing up blood
I strive for nothing

I don't want to feel
I long to be free
From society
Our culture has maxed out
So now everyone wants to shout
for help because what the world wants
Is unrealistic
We try to overdose
And become comatose
To drop all worries of material success
Those
Stacks on stacks on stacks
Racks on racks on racks
We forget
its just paper
Not what defines us

The rest is up to the people
To rise about the atmosphere
Of atoms and mold supportive molecules from the elements we're presented
Not corrected like a sent typo
To your mom
Or boss
Control
Is unattainable
Fathom the slack of a slacker
Loosen your ropes
And walk the plank
With no hopes of disaster nor triumph
Determined
To just be
I wouldn't say this is old but it's from a good set of months ago.
I walk a pace in tall covers, a distance set from other brothers, waiting for a herd to feed; I crush and blow away some seed.

The grasses burnt on prior prairie, warm yet cool for day is airy, far can see I from top hill; I stand in patience very still.

Copper ochre is my skin, the brothers and I are family men, on the native hills we live and finding those called kin, we hunt today the land we’re in.

Off in distant rumbled cloud, dark foreboding getting loud, the sound we seek from running crowd, ahead of storm front watching grasses plowed.

Stoic, I, my umber eyes as mist now falling from the skies, I stand here patient chest held high, shoulders square with chin to sky, my flowing hair in breeze divides.

Land it shakes I take to knee and feel the earth, the vibrating, the rumble sound is thundering, is louder still than weather’s thunder, light she fades from skies I’m under.

  Yansa nearing, wind has told me, I wait here at clearing with spear to console me but something awful lurks around for along with rumble comes alarming sound, a growling type from a hungry hound.

Bear my brother, hawk my guide, no tree for shelter or horse to ride, my hunt now over after solemn wait for Mother Earth has sealed my fate.

Two wounded wolves approaching wily, one it limps or seems to sway as smaller animals run away, their eyes beguiling on stormy day, I prepare for fight, no time to pray.

I seat my spear, it is useless, take out knife and axe I loosen, the pair they circle long and wide, and carefully I match their stride.

  Quiet now, prairie peaceful, time seems slower, I cannot see my people; the wolves at bay they snarl near, I stone my heart against all fear. Were they hunting Yansa, like me too, I just easier prey to pursue? My younger days would see wolf for dinner as I’ve grown older so too am thinner.

  What difference makes it slow or fast but when they pounced did run in tandem? In last second my actions random, I lose my hatchet in one’s side and dive while stabbing until he’s died. Face is ******, arm got chewed, and they tricked me with a method skewed, for what seemed wounded never was true, my back turned towards her, neck in view, she took aim and rent sinew.

  A ****** mess became a horror, I swung my blade and thought I caught her; she tore my hand off and mauled my face then left me dying in a grassy place. The warmth of day is leaving body, a hunt now do I thus embody, the rumbling ground again is moving and cool of night is somewhat soothing, my killer stalks the area-round but soon she’ll eat me where I’m found.

  The rain it cooled me seeing Sister Moon, Brother Sun was dipping with Great Father Sky as Mother Night came to watch me die, my life fulfilled so now I die, Great Wolf’s passion can’t deny; to all that knew me I say goodbye.

  He who fights wolves says,  -goodbye.
Rhyming narrative about a Neolithic Native American.
Anonymous4070 Apr 2018
I said I was fine,
when you told me.
I said I was fine.
I said I would be.

I said it was okay,
that you canceled our plans.
I was happy to ease off,
to loosen our hands.

I said I was happy,
glad you finally knew.
I said I was proud.
She seemed so great for you.

I said you'd be perfect.
A beautiful match.
I said I was sure,
that you'd always last.

I said friends forever,
that our fates were tied.
But I've forgotten, I promised,
that we'd never lie.
Title suggestions? Kinda hate current one



 In the stillness of solitude

I sleep with my eyes open
Attempting to loosen sweet dreams from the grips of a bad spell or two

Paying penance to the purveyor of stolen moments
Thinking of relativity and musing on Einstein

Imagining a surrogate dimension
Where I’m taking my first steps
Endeavoring to propose, free from the vigilant eyes of jaded perspective

Born to hope and slave only to imagination
Tethered to blind ambition
Walking in child-like faith

It is there that I am free again
For it was there that I was free before
When I was closest to nothing
And nearest everything I needed

Where moments unfolded
like a staircase to the stars
And time was just another word
I didn’t know
Sonia Ettyang Oct 2018
I lay down this dead roses
Out in the open field
Watch the petals turn to dust
And vanish in the wind
Make a heart felt wish
For a soul I once thought I knew is dead and gone
Sank deep into the abyss
So glad I could catch a glimpse of whats left of your sunken soul
And now I loosen my grip and set you free
May the waves carry the weight of your burdened spirit  
Forever hold your peace
©Sonia Ettyang
I send a hope upon the wave for the soul I failed to save
Ari Jan 2018
it feels like invisible strings are all over my body
controlling me
choking me
contorting me

there's string for my wrists
ankles
legs
arms
ears
neck
heart...

sometimes they are taut
sometimes they go slack
but they're always there
just waiting
for someone to pull the line
and **** me back

sometimes
i give the strings away
those who i love always have at least one
usually the heartstrings
so when they love me
or resent me
they can just pull or loosen
and i will know

you know its kinda funny
so many people pull my strings daily
and yet
they are so oblivious to the fact
that the tightness is suffocating me
and if they don't let go,

i'll be woven to my death, like an insect fated to the spider's wrath
Just expressing something that's on my mind atm.
Cassian May 20
Though we may be meant for different people in another time
Let me slip off your heels while you loosen my tie
Till the potion wears off let’s live the lie
Tori Nov 2017
At a towering height it looms o're me
Hiding me within its shadow,
It bears the face of a phantom
with eyes that are dark and hollow.

With one jagged claw around my throat
and the other to my heart pressed
Its voice is a deafening static,
it will never let me rest.

It speaks with empty words that sounds so horribly like truth.
It praises distrust and confusion
while demanding the need for proof.

It feeds off the nervous breath that I breathe,
Its intoxicated by thoughts of gloom,
It ***** the life out from my lungs
and my happiness it consumes.

The shadow overwhelms  me,
now my body's growing numb
I wait in mortal terror
for the darkness to overcome.

Then something catches my attention,
is it fear in those empty eyes?
Its grip begins to loosen
and its static sounds more like lies.

There's a whisper moving gently
like cool water upon the sand
He  kindly beckons to me
asking that I take His hand.

The jagged claws have lost that grip
which once held me strong
Now I can face it eye to eye
as I should have all along

The shadow fears the Whisper's truth,
and it shudders in trepidation
the battle's won, the foe undone
now in retreat it hastens.

I inhale deeply and then a voice
with no language and no tone
breathes over me, saying lovingly
"You are not alone"
I have gone through many periods of doubt in my life...especially about my faith, but I have found that by facing the doubt head on I grow stronger.
Amare Leslie Feb 23
You never could read minds,
but you had perfect answers to questions.
You didn’t tell me to be optimistic,
but taught me how to deal with adversity,
how to have faith, take pride, be patient,
be proud of who you are.
You don’t believe in God
but still carry all the church within you.

You never could read minds,
but you, you always could read body language.
A stranger might mistake you for a saint,
the way you would take rain, dark clouds, thunderstorms roaming about as your holidays,
the bad days you go through, without dwelling on them,
but you know powerful women have a tendency of doing those things.
You take your tangled heart and loosen it to everyone even if they don’t deserve it.

You never could read minds,
but you, you opened my heart to new ideas.
Told me how to love poetry
so that it could heal wounds of my past.
You told me life isn’t a fairytale, that it takes longer to build something than to break it, so love every second you have because you never know when you may lose it.

You never could read minds,
you said just have patience when failure lingers,
do not let failure weaken your determination,
learn to keep going when you don’t want to.

You never could read minds,
you mentioned forgive but never forget,
that when people break you it’s because they’re hurt inside,
that the best way to heal a wound is to accept it and move on because life is too short.

You never could read minds,
but sometimes I question if you read mine.
In my New Day I arose from my
screen-tent-squirrel-hole-flimsy-bomb-shelter-for-my-soul
and walked down to the banks of the Missinabi River
at the Mattice Landing
with dog’s leash in one hand and my right hand
leading lady’s in the other, hearing and feeling tall grass
swishing against my pant legs
and the crunch of course sand under my feet
that once trod fields of green tall grasses swishing
against my pant legs in the meadows and rocky woods of
my childhood and youth where I spent summers working

at my Aunt and Uncle's farm in
New Liskeard, Ontario and in the woods and along the banks
of the Lackawanna River just over the **** behind
the house of my childhood and youth in the Anthracite coal
country of Northeastern Pennsylvania, which is light years away from the land of my birth where I now live in this Northern Ontario port in the middle of a deep
                                     cold sea of countless
                                     converging
                                     never-ending
rivers
lakes
trees
swamps
bogs
muskeg
and mountains of snow
where snow white and black flies freely fly.

I am always trying to go deeper into the trees and bush
burning deep inside my heart of hearts to follow the Moses
that is in all of us. This eternal Voice in pebbles crunching
under foot and tall grasses swishing and canoe parting
water that flows deep in my mind and spirit once only
winding past burning villages where man rapes and pillages
but now also following a more
pastoral             idyllic             and super-natural course.?

A vagabond never quite understands the working-class
woman and man living their small dream with their offspring and slice of land. I thought they were all ostrich with head in sand. But I now see that we can't all afford to brood as I often do over the daily news. They must rise early the next morning, alarm clocks not set on snooze.                                             
Work ethic
Family hearth and home?
Days of scent
of freshly mown grass  ?
barbeques                                          
camp­fires  ?
coffee brewing  ?
children playing  ?
TV and music blaring ?
dishes rattling
in sink or
swim in the lake.?

Loosen the watertight mind drum and just dive into the
crunch of pebbles under foot treading fields of green tall
grasses swishing against pant legs. Not only wishing
but going deeper into the trees and bush burning
speaking to our primeval consciousness.
This eternal Voice in pebbles crunching and tall grasses
swishing . . . ??
The whooshing sound of wading in a stream streams
through my soul as I savour the body taste of wet gritty sand ?
between my fingers and toes, crouched down wet-crotch deep waiting long enough for minnows to tickle fingers and toes as mosquito’s pin-prickle skin.
Watching creatures much smaller than I gliding,
even walking on calm still water that we humans can only dream of doing in our motorised  sleep.??

I think I now understand . . . to not be constantly mourning the plight of man isn't being ostrich with head in sand.
I must keep gunning-off addictions alluring stare.

I must taste life
    Smell and feel life
        Enjoy life outside of my troubled mind

against the backdrop of the latest holy war
and the imploding creations of our kind.

--Daniel Irwin Tucker
Chloe Ann Jul 2018
How will I know if you are happy with me?
How will I know if you feel the same way towards me?
How can I love you?

I hate it when it comes
I hate it when she calls you
I hate it when you feel so happy without me
I hate it when you're not replying on my messages but you can reply to her messages
I hate the fact that I was the one who's going to message you first
I just feel like I'm not your priority
I hate slow replies
It's just like telling me that you're talking to someone else better than me

Every time I'm around you I feel so happy
I feel my cheeks burning
Do you feel the same way?
I admit it, I'm jealous
I'm jealous when you're with her
But, why would I be jealous?
We're not even together
Why do I feel that you're awkward around me?
Why can't you just show the real you like how you show yourself to her
Why when it comes to me..
The air felt so awkward
Why?!
No one can answer.

Now, I will prepare myself
That the time will come
You will loosen your grip from my hand
You will find a way to exit in my heart
You promised me you'll stay
But promises can be thrown away
I just hope this time will not come
Instead of loosening your grip, try to tighten it
Instead of finding a way to exit, try finding a way to love "us" more
Please don't throw your promises
Please keep it
I have given you my trust
Please do the same...

In the end
I will realize that I'm not in love with you
Instead, I'm in love of US~
Follow me on my twitter account: chloeanndg
Instagram: chloeanndg
Akira Chinen Sep 2018
Depression doesn’t loosen its grip when I am caught off guard by a joke / and it is funny enough to make me snort and that only makes me laugh at the embarrassment I feel from snorting / it’s still there coiling quietly while reloading its fangs with venom / ready to strike whenever I start to feel something good is happening / that maybe this whole life and art and love thing is worth taking out my paper and pencils and pens and brushes  and paints for / and maybe just maybe give some hope to dreaming like I did back in my youth / back when I thought more about my potential / I thought more about my abilities / I thought I could do anything / I thought I would do anything / I thought love... / I thought love was within reach.../ somewhere with someone... / I wouldn’t say I really suffer from any serious forms of depression /  more of just “situational” depression /like I hate my job “depression” / I hate my ability to procrastinate so well “depression” / I hate the way I carry so much self loathing “depression” / the I hate my “life” depression... / you know / situational “depression” / and the situation only being the situation of being alive “depression” / but it comes and goes / slithering quietly through / from my mind through my heart / back and forth / waiting silently for anything I might feel or think that it might want to strike out at and strangle and swallow head first / its nice like that / to not always be present in every thought of every day / but never to far away / never gone for good / I mean theres a lot in this world and this life to be depressed about / how horrible would it be to not be able to feel depressed...oh man, I almost snorted...
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