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Face after face after face,
they stare out at me.
I look into eyes
full of hope and pain,
fear and courage,
longing and loneliness,

and the faces,
the voices,
the yearning
are all my own.

How are we to find
the one who is looking
for us,
with that unique blend
of terror and anticipation
that makes us
their "perfect match?"

We each want to
change our subscription
to the romance channel.
No more docu-dramas,

So much history,
so many angry
silent nights
The full moon mocking,
cold and distant.

Please care.
Talk to me.
Hold my hand--
Dance with me!
Be fun!
Make me laugh--
Don't hurt me.
don't hurt me!

We smile bravely for the camera,
affecting a nonchalance
that is gone forever,
and we show our friends that
we have recovered--
the surgery was completely successful!

The scar is barely visible,
But tell me honestly,
can you really feel life Now,
through the scar tissue of
Written 2005
Copyright 2010 by Michael S. Simpson.
Grace Apr 2017
Perhaps you'll find me
Poking out from her pores
Peek a boo
Through skin

You'll be searching for me
Tucked behind her ear
Lose strands of hair
Drawing you
To trace with eager fingertips

A "perfect match"
Will never shed light
To new dark
It will keep you stagnant
For growth is not synonymous
With comfort

But I pray she meets the mark
Tucks tightly into suitcases
To shove into damp closests
To be packed away
Until the time comes
A trophy to be shown off only when you see fit
mariano aponte Nov 2018
The story you are currently reading is about a unique Tinder match who turned into a matchmaker, but ultimately ended up as the victim.  She redeemed herself at the end by contacting me one last time to offer extended thoughts, which ended with a quote by Joey Palermo.

My connection with Veronica started off with A+ vibes. It was also nice matching with someone local for a change. Our conversation was lighthearted, but interesting, steady and spontaneous. An hour later we are following each other in our cars. We run into construction traffic on Route 95 while aiming for Center City, Philadelphia. I called her to suggest that we cross over the Betsy Ross Bridge into NJ to avoid the unknown setback ahead. It worked out in our favor. We beat the traffic in Jersey while heading for the Ben Franklin Bridge, which takes us back into the heart of downtown Philly. Eventually we make it to our destination. It was nothing major - just an outdoorsy scenery on Kelly Drive. We spent the night walking the trail by the water as we got to know each other. It was chill time.

We continued to stay in touch since then, but I felt no chemistry during our time together that night. However, I really enjoyed getting to know her as a friend. I was still comfortable going out to diner with her and making myself available to chat, but eventually she began to question our connection - knowing that I was not interested in anything that involved a romantic spin. She seemed okay with that.

I recall the night Veronica reached out to me to ask for help about a paper she was working on. She wanted me to critique eight pages of writing before submitting it by midnight. I gave it a shot, but only read about 3 pages. I didn’t want to rewrite her work, so I called her to talk about it instead. We polished up several sentences together. She took care of the rest after I gave her my feedback. The paper was legit regardless, though. I’m still humbled by the experience while bouncing our thoughts around. It was fun. In fact, it was the first time I used the word “sapiosexual” in a sentence to describe that phone conversation. She never heard of the word before, so that was cool.

A few days later Veronica drops  in with a curveball text message. She wants to introduce me to her friend. Of course I was surprised. I didn’t know what to say as she’s reading into my awkward silence, so she follows up with  “I’m a good match maker”. “You’re smart - she’s gorgeous and smart, too - you will like her”

With that said, she secured her words by sending me two pictures of her friend Michelina, which included her twin daughters. She also gave me her number (her friend already had mine). I followed up with a text message to thank her, but still curious about it all. I didn’t latch onto the idea right away because I didn’t want to seem desperate, but after a few days of us talking about it, I felt okay reaching out to her...

The Friend:

I was mostly intrigued from the start, but it seemed like Michelina build up this fun anticipation to entertain herself with me in mind. To be honest, I felt like the spark with the “I’m smart - she’s smart - you would like her” backfired after meeting her. I will explain with paraphrases and quotes while highlighting my overall experience, which only lasted less than two weeks (a month between the two).

So here it goes...

Although unabashedly exuberant, her animated form lacked regard. She seemed cool at first, especially when Michelina playfully invited me to get acquainted with her on Facebook prior to our first meet. I’m not even active on FB any longer, but I logged in just because. We made plans for that weekend. I enjoyed her company then, but mostly because our three plus hours together was influenced by adult beverages. She was attractive in spite of everything, though.

Here’s the thing, I have never met anyone who was so throughly obnoxious, yet, in the midst of it all, I felt there was a silver lining because she was comfortable enough to open up to me about autism regarding her 6 year daughters. This conversation occurred during our time at the restaurant/bar. She was okay with me not having much knowledge in that area, especially unable to empathize. She welcomed questions - whether right or wrong, too. She would also share random pictures and a video of her one girl responding to new eyeglasses. It was nice. I shared a few pictures of my boy, too.  

So anyway, that aside - I maintained an open mind while playing along to an extent considering she conveyed interest as we shuffled text messages before and after we met - with only one brief phone conversation in play. I do remember her being passive at one point. We spoke about  more phone calls. She was open to that, but I didn’t take initiative because I was loosing interest. Besides, she was always preoccupied with her young twins after work. I was okay with that because I’m a father, too. My loss of interest was a result to the other things. I also felt awkward chancing random calls. I suppose I created my own boundaries while taking her mom realities into consideration.

Thankfully, our short-lived connection deteriorated and eventually ended as a result to her foul sarcasm. She basically spoke in riddles. (leaving most of those details out, but trust me - she was overbearing and ****** with it). I guess I wasn’t arrogant enough to challenge her wit via text. Seriously, after this one awkward moment, I attempted my own artful delivery in an effort to change the subject, but in reality- my thoughts had a concluding undertone. The shift, as far as nearing our end point occurred when I made a comment with respect to her photos... My thoughts and how I felt went without saying, because I expressed them before in other words, but I told her once more that I will always admire the stillness in her pictures. I explained: Not of her in heels or of her red lipstick or her blue eyes, but the candid ones, specifically of her genuinely interacting with her twin girls.

I believe I upset her because her best defense was to avoid me abruptly without a slick word. I doubt I offended her because I found her to be assertive, so I decided to contact her a few days later to ask:

“Was it something I said?”

To my surprise she answers...

“It wasn’t what you said, but what you didn’t say, rather. You never took the the time to call. I never got a chance to know you” yad·da yad·da yad·da.

I was like REALLY! Is she serious.  She totally undermined my every effort with a cat and mouse game. I was the one always free without distractions. It was best for her to have called me... She knew that.

Perhaps I should have called, in retrospect. Maybe I should have spoken about making plans to meet again, but to be honest - we had no chance whatsoever because we spoke two different languages (“I’m beginning to think English is your second language” - her words).

My final thoughts to her:

“Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I guess my primary focus while getting to know someone is to put my best foot forward without having to worry about offending them, or wasting their time trying to be clever with quick wit. I get that your colorful nature is to banter sarcastically. You seem fun that way. I like it for the most part. But here’s the thing: As for me on the other hand, my sarcasm game is not that dynamic. And I’m being nice.  I might come off like I shy away from witty conversations, but I’m confident enough to shower you with affection. You might just have to allow yourself to be become vulnerable for that kind of connection. It may seem piteous of me to say, but I’m comfortable being transparent and lacing my wordplay with raw emotion. I leave pride aside. And in most cases, I do my best to not be guarded, especially if I like the person. I do enjoy playfulness, yes, and appreciate the back and forth as long as it doesn’t go too far. I realize your style is not about cut and ******, but I’m just generalizing while peeling off layers for you to feel me, since I no longer have the opportunity to say the things that I didn’t say”.

In conclusion, I reached out to the Tinder Matchmaker to complete the cycle with her. I wanted to thank her again for introducing us, but to give some insight about it not working out... Veronica was sorry, of course, but to my shocking surprise, she turned things around and took the opportunity to call me out about our initial beginnings. She made my misfortune to be about her, and less about my experience with her friend.

Her thoughts:


I tried to reply to your text I do not know if you received it. I no longer have your number. I'm sorry things did not work out. I was not aware of any of this since I have not spoken to her, I briefly explained why in the text. A word of advice for your future dating life, do not judge a book by its cover. You instantly counted me out because you were not attracted to me. You also instantly thought you had a connection with her because of the way that she looks. I remember learning about this in psychology and I know that there is some fancy name for the theory, but basically it discusses how we as humans perceive beauty as good. I was struggling with my self esteem right about the time I met you, I knew I hadn't been looking or feeling my best. Your judgement of me based on what you perceived of my looks left me feeling inadequate and very sad. I needed time to reflect on my feelings and the way that I viewed myself. The truth is even in my prettiest pictures I never felt pretty, I never felt worthy of love. I needed to deal with all of these emotions before I could ever find what I thought I wanted and needed from someone else. I'm learning to love myself more and more every day and my relationship with myself is better than ever. From you, I learned to look past what I at first may perceive as imperfection, and allow myself to get to know the beauty within a person. I met someone amazing, kind, intelligent, and genuinely good and I am so happy I decided to give him a chance even though he didn't look like the man of my dreams he really just might be.


3 days later she thinks of me when she comes across a quote by Joey Palermo. She sends me a text about it. She also apologizes again because she didn’t mean for me to get hurt by the experience with her friend (her words)... I followed up and told her not to worry about it, and no hard feelings - that meeting the both of them was meant to be, and basically told her to take care of herself.

The quote:

“I believe in the kind of love that doesn’t demand me to prove my worth and sit in anxiety. I crave a natural connection, where my soul is able to recognise a feeling of home in another. Something free-flowing, something simple. Something that allows me to be me without question…”

To sum this up, I know some people might be inclined to assume that I’m sensitive, or I don’t have “thick skin” as Michelina would say, or “where’s your pride, dude” (her words)... Not for nothing, but my ex girlfriend had obnoxious tendencies and was cleaverly wit with her sarcasm. We enjoyed each other just fine in that regard, while never crossing the line, but we adapted to our personality traights differently. My ex is assertive and intelligent, too, but she never spoke condescendingly or stereotyped. We were both comfortable embracing our backgrounds, while enhancing each other to be better versions of ourselves. We never challenged or undermined our smarts, or questioned the wisdom gained in life. In fact, when I think of love, I still think of her. Not because I have an emotional attachment, but because she was my first true. It’s been five years since we split. Our story has many sad fragments that were out of our control, but that’s for another time. We’re still friends, though. And she’s happily engaged.

Lastly, the two encounters I wrote about are yet again - added chapters to my exhausting online dating efforts. This merry-go-round was quite different, though, because it presented an unexpected path to normalcy, hence the Tinder match that became the Matchmaker who then  introduced me to her smart and gorgeous friend.

PS:  I retired from Tinder and online dating since then.... I’m good for now.
Shofi Ahmed Apr 2017
Not even the heaven did
encompass Adam forever
nor can do the earth.
But with a woman, with Eve
He is got his perfect match.
SilentAce Aug 2016
I believe you get only a few epic romances in your life.
I also believe you get a handful of comfortable love stories.

One is an attraction that makes you obsessive.
A love that make you go crazy immediately.
A love with more passion than practicality.
Usually rushed and never well planned.
The kind of love that makes your skin tingle when they are nearby.
Your heart pound when they kiss you.
And your  mind race with uncertainty everytime you are together.
The kind of love that if it lasts, is an grand love story.
Or the kind of love that breaks you when it ends.

The other is an admiration for one another.
A fondness that develops into something more over time.
I also believe there is a comfortable kind of love
And you'l find it quite often.
It doesn't scare you at all.
A love that seems logical and practical.
Usually well thought out and discussed.
You don't really feel electrified when you are together but you feel safe and secure.
It isn't grand
But it is stable and has a comforting certainty that you have come to love.
The kind of love that if it lasts will guarantee a happy ending.
Or the kind of love you can walk away from without utter devastation.

Unfortunately, every person experiences love differently.
For one it may be an epic love story while the other has simply settled for a simpler love for a little while.
Until one day they get bored and leave unmaimed while the other gathering the will to mend their broken heart.
And so that leaves a decision to be made.
Do we continue to fall hopelessly in love again and again until we get our Grand Love story?
Or do you chose to settle in the comfort of a mere Happy Ending?

If you’re really lucky you’ll get a combination of both. Those are the kinds of love stories novels come from. I pray for that love one day.
Dark Fjord Jan 2017
I’ve not yet seen the way you dance

see me quiver,
can my stare, see into your eyes
I cheat life

every weak innocent hair
and it was no miracle what brought us here.

I had seen, with those eyes, pain was enough.
Would a father, above, show me this?
September Roses Jun 2018
Go asphyxiate yourself

On your dilusional thought of love
One day you'll find the one

And all your problems will dissolve

Your happily ever after

The true perfect match
that you cant spend a waking hour without dreaming of how much they mean to you

Grow old with
Every second of your life as long as you both shall live

Scrap book with and share vows of love

Your fairy tail ending with your Cinderalla and Prince Charming

Search for the eternal solution to loneliness

Your soulmate
     Your other half

True love will set you free

Is that right?

Go **** yourself
Master, have mercy.
I am Master. I
Have no Master.

The planet
is atrocious.

I am It.

Planet Earth
is atrocious.

I am It.

Why is it so hard
to see
be yond peace?
Why is it so hard
to be
who you want?

The mind, secluded
in a prison rift
of copy paste
makes waste.

Where is my paper?
Where is my pen?
I write for me!
I repeat as if I
will soon
I write for me!
(logging on again)

The planet is horrid.
I am part of It.

Oh, Peace & War,
do we know it.

Yet with an audience,
my imagination
grows stagnant.

The once in abstract
gathers into form.

I did this misdeed.
A disservice.

Once a dreamer.
Now a journalist.
This one is for [redacted]
You make me want to run away.
That, is definitely a good thing.
A reminder that I never meant to stay.
English Jam Feb 2018
The eyes of a supernova seeping into mine
So harsh, so hot, but so soft, so loving
Passionate but patient
So much in so few
It’s so warm

Cheeky grins and burning desire taunt me
So painful, so explosive but so comforting, so alluring
Painstaking but playful
Ablaze though we’re scared
It’s extraordinary

There’s no words to match this melodic image
So sweaty, so intense but so quiet, so calm
Dreamy but real
Like a fantasy
It’s blissful

The sensation of fire melting to stardust
Embrace it, taste it, love it, feel it
Crafted and delicate
Two stars colliding
His pulsating heartbeat needs me
My longing kiss needs him

He’s my lover boy
And I’m his
It’s so warm
Emily Lawson Sep 2018
It is 12:43 in the morning.

I am envisioning lighting my face on fire.

Eyelashes drenched in kerosene, dripping down my chin, soaking my hair

Blink. Blink. Light.

I feel the scrape of the lighter under the pad of my thumb before my hair catches fire

face engulfed in flame, turned to blistered flesh in seconds.

People use the term “faceless” to describe someone they do not know the identity of.

For that reason, my appearance finally matches my lack of identity.

No pun intended.
It was dark and day
the day I read the words came straight
from [redacted]'s brain placed upon
this coded page

Oh my delightful
bedstand book took the rope and pulled
from the poetry a noose
with which to cull

its zombie
with life
only as
love peace
& pros

me be
fore I

Ye got to Fancy this Hearty Stout, Aye,
Soot-soaked with tub-flavoured Laurels of Gold
Now bloke-haste Juggers tick your nerves on-high
And make ye shout the Trumpet-Football-Fold
Yet so, our Celtic Spirit comes to call
For you to Jig their Post-Victorious Dance
Or, if upset, prefer to keep knees on hold
And hope such Font will get you that Romance
Still, never deny those After-Glugs won't count
In palling the Bet for Arsenal's Wear
Sudden Death Match will cause the Team to Mount
And show those Charbarrels a Reason to Tear.
Raise a Swig, to where there Brave Captains be
I take me Share, and drink the Sailor in me.
Robin Lemmen Jul 2018
She is a lovely thought to be had
And makes you oh so mad
When she smiles at you
With big green eyes of genuine care
But don't you know a fantasy
Can never match up to reality
It is hard when she is so beautiful
In your mind, where you take her
To bed each and every night
Lay down her perfectly carved body
Tracing lines and taking her to the edge
Dipping down low to taste her sweet love
Until reality takes you by the hand
Leads you back home
Far, far away from her
CK Baker Mar 2017
lady craighead played the blues
on a stand-up samick
in the ***** room
along side the parsons project
and squabbling dogs
and night moves

stairs creek
up the mezzanine trek
wool sheets slide
on finished floors
little angels
play late into the seventh
(a closing match nearing
the midnight hour)

croaking toads and cicada
sing in the blue moon
musty smells and mothballs
settle deep in the vault
the kettle boils
and cat coils
as the pump house rolls
its heavy drawl

the red phone rings
and bird clock sings
(behind the ruddy stall)
a sleeman variation of the ruy lopez
employed heartily
by the incomparable master jack
marble toast burning
wringer wash churning
chris craft running
near the old carp canoe

rooster calls
and west wind squalls
rustle through the porch screen door
chicken *** pies
and rogue flies linger
a rocker chair placed
near the  sepia face
(softened by the intricate frame)

donkey in tow
(with a fastened ***)
maggie in her dreams
of green tambourines
the nocturnes
and whispering gospel bells

tractors pull on
the grinder stone
horses lay still
in the mid-day sun
a trump card is fingered
at the furnace click
(crosswords and puzzles are next!)
while the sparrow
and that **** rabid fox
are drowning
deep in castles well
Emily Nov 2018
Imagine if it was just me and you.
What a dream that would be.
You're nothing like my last.
Call me just to hear my voice.
You don't let your pride get in the way.
Tell me time and time again that you wish I would be yours.
I know you would treat me right.
For me you'd put up a good fight,
but this is a match that you're not ready for.
Consider this the standing count of eight.
I see I'm leaving you hurt,
that's not my intention.
Matthew Oct 2018
I wish so badly to be smiled at
To deserve a cute girl with freckles
And a blue sundress to match her eyes.

Funny, you can fall in love with a woman you've never met..and you
Don't even know if she's out there.

I choose to trust..the dust will
Settle as it should,
The tides churn
Violent and calm

And suddenly she was there again
The moon and I who once we're one

So bitterly alone
Seriously I'm in a rough to me please.. especially if you know your heart is in the stars
Bryan Lunsford Apr 2018
Every once in a while you mix gasoline with fire,
Just to see what happens, like me and you in our love-filled desires,
With your body's heat, and the curves that sit within your attire,
I touch your skin where I feel my heart get set on fire,
As it's with fuming fuels within your eyes that tell me you are far from tired,
We kiss as that sparks a flame like a match or a lighter,
And creates a firestorm that can be put out by no firefighter,
With our love that is like mixing gasoline with fire
Cné Aug 2017
As our dew points match, lead me out into the open moonlight
Then take my hand and come with me to share this glorious night

Sin smiling Angels look down on us in the night's cocoon
Safely sheltered beneath his broad shoulders our bodies completely attune

Her pale skin denied The moonbeams as I eclipses them above her
Shivering to the cadence of the night with the moonlight as a ******

The cool night air hasn't chilled her warm summer lips
The stars reflected in our eyes, each shimmering thoughts a kiss

Ethereal night mist rises from our slowly moving bodies
His warmth tastes of golden light, dancing to simple melodies

Shimmering in dusk's glow the rapture subsides in a glistening shudder
Splendorous waves of euphoric flood, as we complete each other as lovers
to the tune of AC/DC "Touch Too Much"
thank you Palmer for the dance
easefully Nov 2018
you burn me.

and it isn’t

but mine.

i gave you
the match
in the
first place.
i told myself i wouldn’t let love in again, yet here i am, getting burned by the same flame twice.
Parker Nov 2018
The compass that is my heart has frozen in your direction
It points towards a living room filled with all our books and dog toys covering the ground
I long to become the 2nd voice in your head that only encourages you to bleed your beautiful stories and poetry for all the world and never leave my side
The most extravagant wedding is a mir circus compared to the galaxies you fill my soul with simply by saying "I love you"
I will dance with your mania and cry with stories until we both are insane
My love, the seed you've planted in me has rooted and will grow until it's a million years old
After it perishes, I hope we become rain drops in the next life that land in the same puddle that saved the last lovers on earth from dying of dehydration
Please dear, don't lose me in your mind again
My greatest fear has mounted itself in your eyes
and the thought of losing you again stands behind the last match in a box in which the world depends on to light for warmth even though the winds are high
His army perched above in trees,
Watching the front become a feast,
Who wins, care not, in the least?

"The cawing clan of Koronos..."

The thousands black they view the fight,
Staying late for supper -feeding at night...
Picking tender morsels in illumed moon-light,

"Swarthy minions of King Koronos!"

Corvid follow Man wherever he may go,
Feathery tomes of knowledge their treasure trove,
The messengers in the House of Jove...

"His static barbizon Aves; Koronos!"

There are many kings who come and go,
Becoming part and parcel in a wicked show,
But none of them will ever match the Crow...

"Engrosser of the dead; Koronos!"
Koronos is a king from the pseudo-historical Hercules accounts by Appollodorus and Pausanias. His name means, "Crow," in Greek. With the title this piece contains 96 words and two types of verse; rhyming verse and verse. Adding the metered count by line number you get 6, 7, 7, 8, and 20 or 48 times two types of verse; 96. So the metered count works two ways as the Greek and Hebrew mystics intended. The Greeks doublet'd coronae with the Celtic Kornus. The Greeks may be word-playing off Coronae saying that the King does anything and everything that is seen as good and bad?
Across the Nation's Prize I say Hello
And Tradition's Tie breaks to meet my Friend
You decide to either say Yes or No
Whichever it is this is not the End
I'm sure glad you enjoyed your Meals to date
Both Horseradish and Wasabi do pair
Now this Hour's Best Time to roast a Steak
Such Great Leisure the Mad Chef can't declare
Now before you leave for Wimbledon's Match
Make sure your Bag is empty from your fill
Obey, and Stony Halites fail to latch
Then you enjoy the Kingdom's Biggest Thrill.
I know not much, with Time and Place obsessed
Least I can share which Merry Face is best.
#tomdaleytv #tomdaley1994
Daisy Marrow Oct 2013
Where are your wings now?
How can they save you now?
Left alone, barely able to stand on your own two feet.
You walk a thousand miles down a dirt road
finding hunger along the way.
You drink a gallon of water for the first time
so everything in the world stops and leaves you breathless.
You can't believe the feeling of pain and dwell in sorrow
over something, you can't control.
You set the world on fire but never knew how to use a match.
Now you're a nomad dreaming of meeting someone who will help you put out the flames
but instead, everyone glares at you while walking around in their ashes.

And if you knew what you know now nothing would have changed,
and everything would be in its place.
You wish to undo what has been done
but you have a heavy soul
surrounded by mountains and oceans.
So let the sun die down
and let the morning pour in hope of anew to come.

You used to be a beautiful angel
but now your grace has been ripped out.
Now you're a human
with ***** feet,
a hard soul,
broken wings,
and scarred and cut skin
you wish to just be left behind.
Let the wind take you and lead you
across the winding roads,
into the hands, you solely search for to help and to hold.
The only hands that can make you feel whole and holy,
even without a halo.
Madison Lee Dec 2018
Sweaty palms & nervously clenched teeth,
His piercing, welcoming blue eyes have me shaking the earth beneath my feet,
His soft & plump lips look appetizingly sweet.
How could a boy, who lights up an entire room full of people with just one purely genuine smile,
Fall for a girl; who can't even keep the flame within her burning longer than just a little while...
Was it the way her infectiously, intoxicating laugh made heads of strangers turn to admire,
Or potentially, did he notice the flame light up within; when all she could speak about was the hopes and dreams that her heart had hopelessly waited to tell to someone who would make her feel desired...
Robin Lemmen Jul 2018
We speak with fire on our tongue
Hoping to find a match in angry looks
Aiming to light up and respark
Hit where we know words hurt most
Lashing out and cashing in
I apologize for feelings for speaking truths
You are proud but  reach out
As a means of saying sorry
Ironic as we know we both
Will do it all again
Strike a match past the parchment
Of our skin, drawing fires
Drawing circles until we burn
Out, out, again and again
Smoldering embers of what could have been
Leaving marks shaped like feelings
Neither of us can make worth of

And so they kept on drawing fires
Past the parchment
Of their skins
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