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clever Nov 2018
i trade money for magic,
looking for ephemeral feelings with eternal damage.
and when you're not there to save me,
i keep taking codine to stop the saline.
and there's a few things i forgot to mention,
specifically every bad intention.
i drove for miles to find you
but in the end i found myself.
that, and a couple empty bottles of jack.
elle jaxsun Jul 2018
i escaped 2,226 miles away

in hopes of finding
what i've been missing

in hopes of escaping
your
deadpan
tight-lipped
cold stare

in hopes of
peace

what i've been missing
all along
is me

overshadowed by the
hatred of myself
built by you

overshadowed by the
thoughts of suicide

why would i want
to be me when
my own family doesn't
seem to want me

and i know i'm not
the only one with a
story like that but

knowing so doesn't really make
this much easier to handle

i will admit that
i've had a lot of help
and i'm beyond lucky
to have the family i chose

they teach me things like

just because you used to be
doesn't mean you have to be

and

patience and kindness can
tear down the tallest walls

the ones i’ve spent my whole
life building just so i didn't
have to feel all of that **** again

but i’ve been
getting better at getting better
at 2,226 miles away

i think i’ll stay
I moved a year and a month ago. I live with some of the best people I know. I'm so thankful to be here.
No picturesque ruins will remain for us
To wander through with our sketchbooks and pens
For drawing pictures or writing blank verse
About bare ruin’d 2 air-conditioning ducts

The baptismal font will be repurposed
As a bird-bath (with a plastic Saint Elvis)
And the stained-glass windows will be sold off
As fashionable bathroom accessories

The crucifix of deplorable design 3
Will be stored in the back of someone’s garage
Until the girls carry it off to the woods
And laughingly use it for target practice

A rubbly field will serve as a soccer pitch
Until seventy years 4 have passed away


1  Wordsworth’s “Tintern Abbey”
2  Shakespeare’s Sonnet 73
3  Evelyn Waugh’s Brideshead Revisited
4  Daniel 9:1-2
Your ‘umble scrivener’s site is:
Reactionarydrivel.blogspot.com.
It’s not at all reactionary, tho’ it might be drivel.

Lawrence Hall’s vanity publications are available on amazon.com as Kindle and on bits of dead tree:  The Road to Magdalena, Paleo-Hippies at Work and Play, Lady with a Dead Turtle, Don’t Forget Your Shoes and Grapes, Coffee and a Dead Alligator to Go, and Dispatches from the Colonial Office.
King Panda Apr 2017
Smell of lilacs bloom
to no end—a nebulous glow of
purple, perfect, and unperturbed—your
poem of lilies with caution tape
snug in my backpack—
your pollen hundreds of miles
away—a firebrick orange
sung again and again. A cotton
blow unlike anything colorful
—a white puff of dandruff before
the rain—a bouquet for
your spring stitched
stem by stem.
I want us to work out love
I want it much.
Sitting and tears rolled up
In your favourite blue eyes.
I will never throw away
What we've built by now
And I believe in you.
Not one obstacle we have to overcome
To finally put hearts at rest
And embrace each other tight
You think of life a lot
So do I, trust me on that
As well as how we meet
And how life change the first greet
Your path isn't easy,I know
But your efforts will all pay off.
harlee kae May 5
someday,
i'll outrun it all
Bryan Lunsford Apr 2018
With one month–two months–three months–and then four,
As I'd say it was about the fifth month that I just couldn't take it any more,
Because with thoughts of a woman's departure leaving my mind to feel torn,
I sit here trying not to cry with these tears continuously hitting the floor,
Where I sit here in a dark room that I don't want to sit in anymore, I continue to write about this woman that consumes everything within my universe,
With her possessing a soothing beauty that I adore and with such grace that could never be ignored,
She simply is the most amazing woman that I've ever met before,
And that's why I'll be here all alone, forevermore, just wishing I could hear her say one last and final word,
Though, as I've been ignored, and with her staying miles and miles away,
I've slowly began to lose more and more of my faith, where I have been sleeping most of the days away,
Because only in my dreams do I ever get to see her face, but tonight I won't be able to sleep and will be wide awake,
As I'll be writing all day and night with her on my brain, with today being the anniversary of the sixth month that she's been away
Atlas Jun 19
I found you slumped on the kitchen floor
Arms wrapped around yourself as you gaze at the tile pattern
It's times like this when I can't tell
What's going on inside your mind
All I can tell it's that your thoughts seem to be going
200 miles an hour
Spiraling from one misery to the next
When you notice my stare
You get up claiming to need some air
And what can I do but leave you there?
Gods1son Jan 18
A feeble step
Is still a step
Way better than none
Strength and other supplies lie
Down the road
Just move!
Nobody Sep 2018
Two twisted hearts were miles apart,
not like anyone you’ve ever known.
You called me your lantern in the dark,
my light made you feel less alone.

You just needed some warmth,
so you let me love on you.
You were like a little defeated bird,
And I swooped in to take care of you.

That time is still special in my mind,
it felt so pure and true.
I still keep you there in that place,
I know it’s unfair of me to.

I’m sorry it's time for me to go,
please don’t beg me not to leave.
I linger to make sure you’re ok,
you don’t wear your heart on your sleeve.

You implied you didn’t want me around,
then held me an arm’s length away.
Now your soul calls out for me to stay,
but I’m done trying to win your charade.
King Panda Jun 2016
the artistry in you
snapping bubbles
through your hair
resting feather
the coop
the hibernation
every bit of your work
a statement of
beast and sacrifice
sweet mother
holy sister
undying scientist
like windows
like soil
in which life grows
good earth
good prairie
miles and miles of you
swaying in the wind
inculcated within me
this immortal passion
to watch you sprout life
to watch you work
to watch you love
a blissful void
a simple kiss
a wonderful purple
this incomprehensible galaxy
makes sense
when I see your eyes
scanning billions of blades
of grass
when I witness the tortuous
beauty
of your smile
when I hear you
read your poetry
it’s the gift of nature
unprecedented
unexpected
un-censored
unlike anything I’ve ever
experienced
your love
Jessica
your love
is ineffable
Whit Howland Oct 7
you lean back
like you always did
and blow

wearing your bell bottom slacks
cool
like you always were

I hear you now
maybe I always have
I just didn't know

it's all I ever wanted  to do
paint a picture
lean back
see
feel
and hear the music

so please understand
I'm not trying to be you

I'm just trying



© Whit Howland 2019
Word Painting.
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
Jordan Rowan Jan 2016
It's fine
I mean it when I say,
That everything's fine
Even if I'm slowly losing my mind
I'm fine
You can believe me or not
But I'd like to say one more time
That I'm fine

It's right
Nothing better than this
Optimistic lunacy
In the face of cold misery
Dead friends
While they drink themselves to life
Smiles ten miles wide
But I know that it's alright

Break backs
Trying make them take me back
Send love but it's never enough
I guess I'm alright with that
Send notes
Written in calligraphy
All the words read perfectly
Crying out to come back to me

I'm fine
Please believe me when I lie
Straight to your worried eye
That I will be just fine
Take time
I smile when I hear the words
Please, say that you're alright
Even when I don't know what it's like
Walking down the hall without that horrid IV
No words can do justice to how I feel so free
I one so small have conquered that roaring “C”
And showed you all I can, because I never gave up on me.

Not many believed, they lose faith fast
Not even I dreamt how long I’d last
They said it had ended when the stone was cast
But I showed you all I could, because I never gave up on me.

Oh how the pain burned
Slow like seasons turned
And to give up I yearned
But I showed you strength, because I never gave up on me.

With silent tears I struggled on
My only hope she now was gone
From above her light shone
I showed her I was grateful, because I never gave up on me.

Lying in bed
Listening to sounds I dread
Screams of a child and loved ones who cry
There are too many miles to go why can’t I just die.
My skin is sore
From the needles I bore
The drugs I take
They make me ache
I’m tired of fighting let’s end this bid,
oh why can’t I just be a normal kid?
I’d show myself and I’d show you all
That I made it through with my back against the wall
Because I never gave up on me.

In size and in strength may you never judge me
I won that battle because I had faith in me
There is so much more that you can’t see
And I showed you all, because I never gave up on me.

Walking down the hall without that horrid IV
No words can do justice to how I feel so free,
I one so small have conquered that roaring “C”
And showed you all I can, because I never gave up on me.

© 2016 Christine Mulvihill
Read more at http://www.******-in-oncology.com
And even though she died along with other people I cared about like my friend Sister Jacklyn, death never crossed my mind. After her death I still never lost hope, and I promised never to give up. And even after I relapsed and had to start all over again, I promised myself to keep on fighting until I was just like everyone else again, until I could wake up in my own bed and run free without that stupid IV. No matter how painful a struggle no matter how long, I would have fought to eternity to be healthy again.
Äŧül Aug 24
1.
The easterly breeze softly whispers
Only your sweet name in my ears...

2.
I whisper back your name in the air
Hoping my message to reach you...

3.
One day by your side you will find me
Yes, we're so much happier together...

4.
Oh dear, you are of course my heart
And definitely the heartbeat within...

5.
Come, hold my right hand in your left
Rest your right hand on my shoulder...

6.
I shall hold your left hand in my right
And I shall grip your waist by my left...

7.
Let's meet at a place beyond any light
There you can find your name glowing red on my chest...
My HP Poem #1763
©Atul Kaushal
Egeria Litha Feb 3
Needles inside our veins
Reminds me of your heroine phase

We stare at each other’s blood as it swirls into a bag
Earlier, we were taking hits and drags
For the first time all night
I was finally relaxed

Draining my life force with you

The nurse asks us, “Are you two a couple?”

     NO!  YES!
In unison, we chime
his girlfriend is not supposed to know
“Perplexing but alright, Here are two tickets to a comedy show!
       No smoking for an hour
and drink lots of water."
Stumbling off the blood truck,
It strikes me
He is old enough to be my father
If he had a baby as a teen
I could have been his daughter

He tells me, “I need to ***.”
Yeah right, so I peek
And see him through the glass wall
On his knees
As he locks eyes with me
He doesn’t know how to bleed
His lungs want to breathe or
pass out on the floor
to compensate for a sacrifice he made
A couple of miles back
#
L B Aug 2018
He was large as frogs go
Fist-sized happy rotund dweller
of backyard pond
Garter snake large, too large
with his ominous yellow stripes
and jaws to take
a larger than average mouthful
Choked by abdomen's girth
Legs drooling from his glut
Before the victim's even hit his gut's
digestive juices

Kid with hockey stick makes him puck
for his sin
Frog makes  desperate
slim swim for rocks
Where he lies in recovery
from shock and
teeth marks on his belly
Underdog gets defense from phone call-- Eve
150 miles away
intercedes
Frog gets mercy of a transport
to another backwoods pond--
to find his life
forgetting trauma
Suns himself and swims
Eats the bugs
and ***** the froglettes
of another day
My daughter desperate on the phone-- she and her stepson have just been witness to this scene.  Now what!  Now what!  Call mommy! Quick!
I give the household, "hunter man" the job and duty of relocation.  He objects, "But it's the way of nature!"
"Not on my watch, good man!
Not on my watch!"
The underdog gets the hand.
Debbie Brindley Jul 2017
I meet a baby girl today
Who stole my heart
carried it away
All it took was to see her face
and my heart was
taken to a special place
A place filled with
love
hugs
and smiles
So much love
it stretched for miles
It's a wonderful place
where these hearts go
If your wondering how I know
Because
it's a Nana's heart
you see
And that heart filled
with so much love
Well that heart
belongs to
Me
Met my first grandbaby today. A beautiful little girl. She made my heart melt
Michael Marchese Apr 2018
Just a wicked peacenik’n quick draw from the Paw
Game of Thrones’n the Shah, crussian bones of the law
When the baby-skull splitters want nuclear winter
Ideal New Cold steel and send Chernobyl shivers
Down Roman Republicans’ severed headlines
Till there’s no more dead kids on front line Columbines
I’m in exile sharpenin’ [sic]kles in style
Pyongyang’n Kuomintang climate denials
Erasing their nation-hate racial profiles
Outpacing their skinhead disgraces by miles
Shell casin’ this place like the Nuremberg trials
For Fords sellin’ swastikas stockpile bibles
Defiled by Normandy tide genocidals
Fresh meat off the boat spreadin’ Plague mercantiles
I smile and **** ‘em with kindness
Then grind
Battle tax in my acid bath
Salt Marchin’ prime
Because WAR IS THE CRIME
I’m the Clown Prince of Rhyme,
Level 9 state of mind
Like the state of Rakhine
The Black Hand before time
Runnin’ Africa’s Luciest Sky Diamond mine
I’m the ronin alone in
The monkey god shrine
And my guile’s reprisal’s Versailles treaty signed
Strippin’ pride from the Rhine
Now your Motherland’s mine
Swine
Jesse stillwater Aug 2018
Driving up mountain miles
of washboard switchbacks;
jarring the dusty rearview mirror
in my mind:

"but don't look back in anger"  
... I heard you say
stuck in the cloud of dust
befogging my daydream
back somewhere thereabouts
the washed out bridge
that tore us apart
like a flash flood

It was so long ago
since you were running
and I was hiding in plain sight,
from what the storm
in my eyes did tell

Mindful — you were only watching
the growing distance gather;

finding what you didn't lose
looking back to see
   what you can't forget —

like a hesitant child
reluctantly wondering
if anyone was still looking back
at you ―  still running away
from each passing storm


Jesse Stillwater
June   2018
Thank you for reading my soul scribbles
Nat Lipstadt Aug 2018
the angel amongst us

~for Alexander, master splasher~

flexibility is important when poetry writing in a warm tub and a long day ahead is scheduled; so willingly accept the autocorrect
for I am both an experienced poet and bath soaker and
believer in wondrous mystery and unexpected fumbles
that lead to to miracle touchdowns

~•~

the two mathematicians examine the angle, measure the degree of difference at intersection and bless it with an identity,
calling it by its name,
perhaps obtuse, perhaps right, perhaps both

two sets of eyes examine the angle,
study its ****** expression

the old man says:
see the angle on the clock formed by the big handle on the twelve and the little hand on the eight?

this is angle of eight o’clock:
time to stop the splashing and start the get-readying
for we have miles to go before the ocean can say hello!

little angel says angle no go
and slashes the water with both
hands to establish the firmness of his views
and change Einstein’s time from present to future

the angle depends on the perspective of the viewer

the old poet comprehends leaving a warm tub is a regretful thing

but he measures the degree of difference at this
intersection
of time and bath and blesses it with an identity

“time to go”

the angle of my angel is now 2 pointed arms, pointed straight up,
at the twelve o'clock,

as he stands up in fevered protest,
my arms sweep his little legs to
a point at eight o’clock,
angel, commenting on his swift flight
disputes the grandfathers physics

"no go now,
now go later^"

though the angle is unchanged
the perspective of time and space
(and traffic),
yet differs

one sees an angle,
the angel sees time
eternally folding in on itself


that is the angle amongst us
^Surprising as it may be to most non-scientists and even to some scientists, Albert Einstein concluded in his later years that the past, present, and future all exist simultaneously. In 1952, in his book Relativity, in discussing Minkowski's Space World interpretation of his theory of relativity, Einstein writes:

Since there exists in this four dimensional structure [space-time] no longer any sections which represent "now" objectively, the concepts of happening and becoming are indeed not completely suspended, but yet complicated. It appears therefore more natural to think of physical reality as a four dimensional existence, instead of, as hitherto, the evolution of a three dimensional existence.
emily mikkelsen Apr 2017
between the concrete river
& the park where the bums share a bottle
wrapped in a brown paper sack,

there is a cul-de-sac of plastic houses
holding hands & sharing manicured lawns
wooden cars that don't even make any smoke
drive down gray asphalt streets.

fathers that tell mothers they have jobs
wear down street corners sharing beers with the bums,
like they already are one.

all these paper families rubbing shoulders
until everyone has paper cuts.
going home to dinner around a table full of paper love.

suburbia is flimsy
paper towns shining white
smiling neighbors & shared lawns
paper people slowly falling apart.

couples with their tongues down each other's throats,
midnight in supermarket parking lots
dribbling beer in the backseat
they bought off the bums.  

they say,
I love you, I love you, I love you.
until she leaves for a paper husband
& he leaves for a paper wife.

now they live on two separate cul-de-sacs
with the same cutout love,
as the parents they despised.

& when they have kids one day
they will tell them
never kiss before driving,
never befriend bums,
or guzzle cheap beer in backseats,
or on park swings.
& never settle for a paper husband
or a paper wife.


remembering the love
that was flimsy,
but never paper.

100,000 miles away from where they grew up
& 3,000 miles away from each other
3 kids each & plastic houses
rubbing shoulders & sharing lawns

living in a paper thin suberbia
chafing under their paper love.
inspired by "Paper Towns" by John Green
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