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Äŧül Jan 2016
You're beautiful,
Yes, you are, undoubtedly.
But the way you smile-

It's the icing on the cake!

And it's indispensable.
Neither you can live without that perfect smile,
Nor I can imagine any light of day or dark of night without it,
Let alone traveling a mile without thinking of your smile.
My HP Poem #997
©Atul Kaushal
Mary Gay Kearns Aug 2018
Where ever the walk went
You took me
Carried me home on your shoulders
Showed me a newness bright
We picked up the remains
Of each day
Placing them in a memory
And I loved you father
A love that was so safe
That included me
Every mile of you.

Love Mary x
ishaan khandpur Sep 2019
Unto the somber night we go,
March right into the golden dawn,
Sleepless as the army of dead,
Yet wide awake in our purposeful steps.

A soldier cold, lost and alone,
I know my mission, it's all I know,
I'll find the elixir, day, night or noon,
I'll find a reason to live without you.

I march towards the morning sun,
Just behind it's golden embers doth love run,
I'll march a little day by day,
I'll march till the sun runs away.

And with every step I will get closer,
Even if if it only takes till forever,
I'll march a little closer to you,
I'll march away from the world so blue.

Our looks may differ,
Our names may change,
But our hearts will be together,
In this world or the next.
Jim Davis Aug 2018
Your life, is all you can really know
But what of other lives, other worlds

Take a piece, of the unknown world
Know life in details, the other knows

Walk a mile, in any other’s shoes
Hold to hope, while in deep blues

Drift across blue seas in their boat
Sense the slaughter of a meal goat

Ride their camel across the sands
Run from danger with waving hands

Take a look into stranger places
Feel rain striking all uplifted faces

Face the death of daughter or son
Or face the death of any loved one

Know all the agony and despair
Of a life without hope of breath’s air

Suffer the pain of the torn mind
Feel the want of the unloved kind

Glory in the love of the lost forlorn
Cherish thoughts of the freshly born

Take the mind of the loving divine
Love all, knowing all love is mine



©  2017 Jim Davis
Of course it’s been said “walk a mile in his shoes”. Then you have his shoes and have a head start!  
ConnectHook Nov 2015
♪♫♪♪

Your beaded snakeskin loincloth

strung beneath humid palms

cool rippling breeze that calms

our hammock hung under thatch

what a catch . . .

your Amazons running into my Congo

lost track of my bongo

back about one mile

from the sources of the Nile:

your jungle smile.

Restoring all celestial things

deep within your tropical clearings . . .

flowing slowly, going loco

at the mythic mouth of the Orinico;

shake your nut-brown biospheres

and banish all my worldly fears.

Dusk is nearing — clearing the hill

insects trilling a sinuous thrill;

the yuca half-mashed in the clay ***

the witch doctor hungover in his hut

while our little fire smolders

near the mountains of the moon

—or are they only boulders?

Come soon

Jesus, Lord of the Jungle . . .
NOTES: ♪♪♫♪♪♫♫
♪♫♪♪
Eevee May 2019
Mile 1:
Running to get ahead,
Running to the end,
Knowing your still far out.

Mile 2:
Keeping pace with one person,
You know he will be there,
But all you can say is
“Keep going”

Final mile:
Running to stay alive,
Running to keep up,
To prove to him and yourself that you can do this.

Final stretch:
Last piece,
You see him at the end,
You can’t breath,
Your lungs are moving but no breath comes out.
You push whatever is left and you collapse,
Not in your friends arms but into his arms.
Embarrassed, and tired you stand there.
Unsure of the next step.
He picks you up and puts you on the side,
Hands you water and helps keep you calm.
You may not have won the race,
But the prize was already yours.
This poem is for all the athletic people that, look at there crush on the team and wish that this could be true.
Zeeb Jul 2018
The Lake Pontchartrain Causeway… man that’s one long bridge
I drive it every day for my pay - here’s what I see along the way

Here comes:
Corvette Kary, setting pace, he thinks he’s in a race
When Kary’s not waxing his ride, for your safety you'd best pull aside

Petrified Patty, she’s over water and has never learned how to swim
She’s driving a white Lexus, so scared she has no reflexus

Miata Mike, chasing Kary's Vette, not gonna get too far
Trying to convince himself, he didn’t buy a girly car

Watch out for:

Makeup Mary, on cruise-control, wow she’s one of the worst
She loves her new Camry, but her next car might just be a hearse

Yes, that Causeway, can be a long and boring ride
And if you get a flat… there’s no place to pull aside
Oh but that Causeway has its points, take time to see
24 miles of entertainment, and the Northbound way is free

Here comes:

Road Rage Randy, always ****** and he doesn't know why
Today he’s running late, but finds time to escalate

Doughnut Danny, rolling breakfast and a tea
Such mechanized efficiency, has a newspaper on his knee

Wackin Wayne, you're kidding me, you thought I couldn't see?  Vibrating Virginia close behind, now we have equality

We've got:

Maypop Marty, thinks tires last forever
Does he even check the air?.... never

Mark The Spark needs a muffler shop, something heavy about to drop.  Comes Innocent Mike on his motorbike too bad he just couldn't stop.

Headphone Harry and his Pandora, he's hear but also... he's not.  He likes his music best, you see, after a few long tokes of his ***.

Fugitive Fred on the go, at 65 point ooo.  Not a mile to fast or to slow, got to blend in on this bridge don't you know.

Yes that old Causeway, can be a long and boring ride
And if you get a flat… there’s no place to pull aside
Oh but that Causeway, has its points, take time to see
The mechanized circus on parade, our hilarious humanity

Don’t forget:

Frozen Frita, every rainstorm stops her dead in her track
Then here comes Ramin’ Ron, goin 60, aint too good for her back

No Tie-down Tim, **** flyin’ out of his truck
For everyone behind him, Tim doesn’t give a ****

NPR Nancy, she must be in a “Driveway Moment”
Only problem is, she’s on a god-**** bridge

Texting Theresa, I’ve saved the best for last
The last thing in life she did see, was an idiotic emoji

Lookin’ Lee, that’s me, pretty sad that I’m just as bad
Come join us nuts on the Causeway, might be the most fun you ever had
The hollow string, mellow hole
Vibrates a trickle mile
I took the turn of my lover's choice
Singing all the while

Her flat tune, was missing you
Her hair a nasty knot
I captured what I knew
and hailed the bitter tune
Missing
On the trickled front

With out the bass
No jug in hand
I long for vibrant stings
Blistered hands
And bitter things
Long forgotten
Come the spring
My feels from fiddle tune
An ocean splashed the sky;
clouds little boats for angels to
reel in stars upon will; their gills
glow for human eyes to scope-out
and connect the dots, one by one.

The moon a forest for the alien
gophers; burrowing amongst its
craters, feasting on passing comets,
and yet; we fail to see.

A rainbow, for the giants after their
grievances, sprout a smile on
mile-long faces, as the days got harder
to stay sunny.

Drear for the shadows, the little
rats of the night, hissing at morn
and hurting, shrinking as
golden lasers black-
All feedback is appreciated!
Homer Custodio Jan 2019
I travelled this far just to see you.
To gaze at your deep eyes full of mystery.
To appreciate your smile that's heavenly to behold.
You are beautiful beyond compare, that looking away for a while seems like missing you forever.
Now, you sit across me, and I not wanting to lose sight of you.
How can I let this moment last forever?
Dawnstar Aug 2018
Down in the valley of the fleeting stream
Parched Sudanese tongues crying to you
Below, below, the sacred Nile
Pestilence took my sweetheart

She was dark, now she is blue
Like the cataracts dividing the stream
And the tearducts dividing my eyes
Below, below, the sacred Nile

Torn in our tumult
From the bleak savan'
Starve like we all her cherrious face
Now forever blemished

Therefore let us dine on hardtack
Suffer for the things of the marble world
Below, below, the sacred Nile
Where we'll go and prosper

Go receive heaven's reward
Long, long, the vaporous mile
Fast along the toiling road
To the land of reward, we go

I compared her to a flower
Fair a fragrance as ever conceived
To think her smile is a nest for ants
Below, below, the sacred Nile

Change these feelings about me!
I am eager to see her again
But I won't obey the winds
Below, below, the sacred Nile
As far as fragrance is concerned.
A song.
ryn Nov 2014
I've stared...
Longingly forever into you
You'd stare back but you never really knew
Hands of hours, minutes and seconds I've shook
All the time I've carelessly took

I've witnessed...
That etched on each one, that amazing smile
A crutch forged of sunrays that had carried me many a mile
It's all that I have to know of you
In this endless chase I've sought to pursue

I've envisioned...
Different ways you'd wear your crown
Various trimmings on lavish gowns
Smitten by the way you sport your paint
The nectarous song sung in your gait ever so faint

I've imagined...
The addictive rise and fall of your every breath
Bringing me back to life after every death
Pulses of sweet nothings that never did ebb
Ensnaring my heart with your silk spun web

I've believed...
You are the queen of my future tale untold
I've felt it so real like verses written in bold
But I've awakened from slumber into terrifying reality
Pains me to realise that you're nothing but
imaginary*...
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2012
It is almost gone, the fight to sustain, to go that extra mile.
I cannot go down that road again without the promise of change.

Hope is nearly extinguished;
a flame snuffed out by years of beurocracy and neglect.

Groping through the darkness that has enveloped us
as we struggle through days without end.

The much dreaded evil has crept under doors and into our ears;
voices of torment and faded support.

Fighting the good fight was not meant for this.
It was the promise of something more.
All poems are copy written and sole property of Vicki Kralapp.
Manda Clement Jul 2014
We did not come here on the orders of others
We came freely, our own choice, blown by the soft winds
scattered o'er many a mile
Landed upon Flanders Fields and rested a while

Then death came, disturbed the earth
Destruction hit the ground in which we slept so quietly
Awoke us from our slumber sweet
To witness tragedies and defeat

Now we are risen
and in our place beneath lie men and boys of courage, strong and true
Who fought valiantly but now lay slain
Our gentle roots entwine around their bodies that remain

Each dawn we wake for them and face the summer sun
At night our gaze doth meet moon
We stand tall and proud and dip our heads
And honour them that lie beneath with our petals red
Another WW1 inspired poem. Poppy seeds can lay dormant for many years before flowering. This is what happened on the battlefields of ww1. The earth was disturbed with all the shelling and death and destruction and released the seeds that had been laying dormant. How beautiful yet so sad.
AUGUST Nov 2018
Sitting on the corner while Starring
At the glances of your smile all over
Cover the room by your face unveiling
Up to this moment, I want to be near,
(you were a mile from here)

Thinking It was cloudy on my mind,
But when you are here by my side
You are making my day as bright
Showing the beauty behind,
(They have nothing to hide,
nothing to hide.)

How deep is the ocean trenches?
How far is the stars throughout the abyss?
How much warm is your embraces?
How much cold Is your lips to kiss?

l don’t much care about counting all of these,
As long as you are with me, you are my bliss

(I could tell,) heaven’s gate is not the place of happiest
And angels are not those prettiest,
Indeed, God is always be the wisest,
For sending me a fallen angel, I’ve caught the brightest, the brightest

Lately, You stole what between these lungs
You open my chest, You let it pour, my bleeding heart
I cant deny, how i feel, you are my crush
I have been stunned on Your eye lashes, (glances, perfume scents, and blushes)

How deep is the ocean trenches?
How far is the stars throughout the abyss?
How much warm is your embraces?
How much cold Is your lips to kiss?

Do I have to care about all of that anymore,
As long as you are with me, what should I have to ask for?

Emerald, jade, diamond, gold and silver,
I guess nothing is forever, unless me and you
In this world of deception, anyone can be a liar
Just remember, Nothing is to fear, I am always here.
.......I am always here.
Honestly, I did not know what is sonnet and how to make one, but I did it unconsciously. It is true that poets have a universal language in terms of making thier poems.

This was Dedicated for Margaret
Hg Jun 2018
i keep on seeing stars
as freckles
on people's faces

i ask them ain't it cool
that you were born
with constellations?

but some have just as
many spots as
insecurities

they think they need
make up to cover up
their galaxies

like one person I know
looks like ice cream
that's been peppered

the dots on her arm
dawn from her grandma
who's a leopard

but she tells me that
she hates them
she calls them imperfections

cause back in school
kids mocked her for
her speckled complexion

some bully
named georgina
used to call her a giraffe

the boys joined in
and even then
her friends began to laugh

internalizing this
as a black hole
inside her mind

though heavenly
her body confidence
never aligned

then a tear streaked down her cheek
she immediately wiped
the meteor

i’d never seen her sad
didn't what to do
so I poked her

poked her face to show
my favorite star
below her eye

told her when we speak
it's like i'm talking
to the sky

and every time she blinks
that freckle vanishes
from sight

so every time she cries
a star goes missing
from the night

shame is taught
to many of us
at such an early age

comparing our looks
to everyone
as if we're made the same

girl you are spectacular
no matter of
heredity

your tears are shooting stars
made of cosmic ice
and chemistry

now i thought that that was clever
but saying that
was DUMB

cause as I'm seeing stars
she says she’s been
seeing someone

yeah Ice Cream's
got a boyfriend
right now he's just away

i should have seen
that coming from
a mile milky way

you wish upon a star
to find someone
that’s wishing too

one day
i’ll meet that one
when i stop wishing for you

i gotta say goodbye
this ain’t the time
this ain’t the space

it just ain't right
that every night
i still will see your face
©Hg
Racquel Davis Jul 2014
In a dream,
Or a nightmare,
Everything seems            out           of                           place.
Things start out right,
And then,
                                    You’re dropped into an ocean.
               You’re naked and drowning,
          Sleeping and awake.
        Slipping away into a panic,
     Floating on a wave of  d i s c o n n e c t.
Grasping for anything,
     You hold on to thin air.
Feeling good with just that,
                                     The darkness grabs your s
                                                               ­                          e
                                     ­                                                     n
                                                               ­                             s
                                                               ­                              e
                                 ­                                                              s.
­Gaining visual on your position,
You swim a short mile.
      Lost with no vision,
You look outside yourself a while.
Your view from up above,
     The ocean seemed to move.
      God knows how long it has been
Below,
       The water blackens.
               You lose faith,    
                                                                ­    The darkness wins again.

©Copyright 2014 Written and Edited by Racquel Davis
edited 11/23/16
L B Sep 2016
Our houses, spitting-distance close
Feet propped on railing
cold beer with fresh lime
watching robins flung in flocks
to the failing of August

Too close-- Really?
John, on his cell
is fu_king the world again
from his garage
Why not-- squeeze in pool or a dog
Lawn mowers and **** whips tune in to whine
late Friday afternoon 'bout dinner time

Clinking silver, scrapes of plates
Running water for suds
through open windows to the thunk of pots
Doors bang behind on pathway to garbage
or joint in the woods
wafting over all
wordless squeals of delight from autistic child

Meanwhile, the odor of nail polish removes
all doubts of--
--Gawd!
lodging low and toxic
as the sun dissolves orange
in its acetone setting

Kids playing Man Hunt as darkness falls
Leaping hedges, slamming gates
No yards can contain these kinetics
restless legs, furtive minds

Muttering wind chimes
from four different porches
above the drone of highway
a half mile yawns

Pieces of talk
flipping the crickets
over--
Why or who or at what time?

Other-worldly glow from The Mall
dims stars
outlines mountains
brightens the horizon behind

Mosquitoes coming in for a landing
In "The Plot" section of Scranton, all the houses are really close.  Built by  poorer miners, mostly between 1920 and 1950,  it has an old residential feel to it-- nothing like today's sprawling suburbs.  Most of these homes had only four or five rooms, originally with "outdoor plumbing," if you know what I mean.

Oddly this is a very stable neighborhood, isolated somewhat by the Lackawanna River on three sides.  Gossip, of course runs rampant, but people look out for one another.
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2012
Crashing into life, frame shattered.
You’ve put an end to my flight down the eternal mile.
Red scattered about, broken shards of life by the roadside.
You have shut me down bruised and battered.

Can someone save this body of mine?
Can someone put this mind at peace?
Samaritans come to rescue and ease the pain
of a body and soul that can run no longer.

Oh blessed hands from above,
have you spared the heart that beats within?
Have you cupped me in your palm?
Can I believe that you stand by to protect me once more?
All poems are copy written and sole property of Vicki Kralapp.
Juhlhaus Apr 2019
Fingers on the rails can feel
The pulse of steel and diesel
Engines, the working muscles
And sinews of a continent.
Ten thousand horses throb the air
And bear down on a mile of freight.
It rolls by like thunder
Under a clear blue sky, stirs the soul
With memories of lonely whistles
In the night, a desert wind, mystery lights;
When little fingers at the open window
First felt the pulse of steel and diesel,
A million iron miles ago.
For my father who loved trains from childhood and worked forty years on the railroad, traveling approximately five million miles by rail during his career.
ryn Nov 2014
Shhh...can you hear me?
I'm hardly a pin
I'm hardly a mile away
Shhh...do you know the pain I'm in?

Look...can you see me?
I'm hiding behind shadowed eyes
And a mask of smiles
Look...will you look past the honest lies?

Taste...can you palate the bitterness?
Sharp and acrid accusations
Dancing on wagging tongues
Taste...will you swallow what is given?

Touch...can you feel my failing muscles?
Every fibre losing this very battle
A futile fight I must concede
Touch...will you save the pieces that crumble?

Read...can you make sense of my heart?
Pounding behind its bony cage
Pumping red into my desperate nib
Read...can you understand the ink staining my page?

Shhh*...can you hear me?
I don't think you can
For I have ceased to speak
In the universe of man
Wade Redfearn Jul 2018
It isn't like that.
It isn't a left turn too early,
a lark awake at night,
thick brown light in an open field;
unpredictable: a bad or counter-miracle.
It is only wanton.

You know how it is
Suddenly, something trapped between your toes:
the world has a strangled voice, it is
unroofed. You want the comfort of normal walls,
normal light, normal noise; in your hand
is a hot brand you'd halfway use
to smith it back together
and halfway swallow.
I had different plans for this vacation
than destruction.

I had plans. You had plans. The earth
planned its axial tilt; the weather planned
its burning; we put aside too little water.
A few plants were familiar -
the ruined piñon pine I remembered from the placard.
One lonesuch tree that made a little niche
at a defiant angle into the air
and outlived all except its orphaning.
How we thought we could fare better, I cannot say.

Ten feet up by one hundred feet over:
one liter water per mile climbed:
fatigue. Fatigue.
The quiet supremacy of all these rules for living like
transit and occultation
refraction and dimness
exertion
hunger
peristalsis pulling down
huge loads of sunlight
into the ***** gully
like bread and meat.

You will not see the bottom
no matter how hard you look.

If blood I am, then what kind of blood?
Unsettled and unsettling. The circulatory system
has an apt name: sometimes I can feel yesterday's blood
in the same neurons, saying the same thing.
I have no choice but to repeat it.
Time sheds its significance.
I have no continuity:
I have rhythms.

The new day, on fire and sitting in the trickle
you held a golden fish in your palm
as if you had made it by will
and cupped, it circled in the valley of your fingers
and I ate from the vision of care.

Erosion: isn't that what made these furrows?
I beg it to unmake me
flat like a seabed and many fathoms green
where the sun will never reach me.

In the penumbra of your anger
I do not fear dying,
only dying unclean.
Heights are all the same.
They would all break me and none would enough.
The grasshoppers and gecko hatchlings
all die in their way, rubbed in the hot dry dust.
Parched, I gnash my stone teeth
and tongue of chaparral -
I am making a song to say
die with me
but smile at me.

Then I see it through flashes of temper,
frame by frame, like a fingertip behind a pinwheel:
a dream of something distant that is also true.
Dreams of freedom alongside dreams of dying.
eva-mae Oct 2018
from a mile away
i could love you
in the distance
a soft focus version
of your harsh being.

from across the road
or down the stream
i could love you
cry you a river of
romance, to match
the momentum of
your fist.

from down the stream
i could love you
run away from you
as fast as the current
flows, fast enough to dry
the blood sweat and tears
you have caused me.

from the fire escape of a
city i could love you
but you're the fire that I
am always within an inch
of, the cigarette burns on my stomach
prove it.
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2013
The sun set on my dreams
the moment you walked out of my life.

So many and diverse were they,
now totally empty am I.

Try as I may to fill holes in my heart,
they remain painful and bottomless.

Though there have been others,
they've only stayed a while.

They never knew the joy
of going the full mile.  Did you?

I've tried to let you know how I feel,
but you always turn away.

Now it is too late,
you're gone to someone else,

and I am alone once again
with my empty dreams.
All poems are copy written and sole property of Vicki Kralapp.
KiraLili May 2015
If your looking for confrontation
You want to fire me from a bad portfolio
A winked answer to a flirtation
The best response to a to a bold innuendo

When asked to stay up late when your up early
Or looking down a steep trail on a bike
Setting the bar high on a deadline mutually
Accepting a tequila shooter with Mike

Usually a common retort to a friend or boss
The challenge from  lover or foe is met or accepted
It lets them know how far you will go or how little the loss
The commitment is said and what's offered will be attempted

Knock the throttle back or make a stand and smile
Give it all you got and spend every dime
Let them know how you roll every mile
Tell them , don't threaten me with a good time
Common answer on construction sites to a hard task , I over use it often.
Dee Sep 2018
you dream about the one that will **** you--
an accident on I-70 with the
windows down, cigarette hanging
from your fingers;
blown rubber on the blacktop
where you danced under
an eclipse
and drank three olives
from my lips.
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