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"mintues" poems
maybe i should visit you in that frozen wasteland where you've waited all these years for warmth and spring. or maybe i should visit our garden of flowers. alone i'd lay down   on the grass, ignoring the flowers that beckon brightly, desperate to be remembered. i'd close my eyes to feel the soft whispers of wind on my cheek; words winding their way in-between the twisting air to replicate what you gently spoke lying on the gentle earth, both eons and mintues ago.       *how are you doing?       just maybe, could you stay?       could you be my companion?       can we stay here for life?       or at least until       tomorrow?* the steady calm of night would surely coat the ground with its coolness. but i am fast asleep. brought under to only wonder when it was i lost my winter coat.
0
Feb 16, 2022
Feb 16, 2022 at 12:27 AM UTC
placing love poems in a box under my bed
VOICES To hear ancient music in the pines or the bright moon speaking on a cold, wild night. Voices flow with song and speed, loud as a busy highway, soft as transparent air. Vine leaves speak in whispers, palm fronds shout their struggles with the wind.I eavesdrop on the gossip of the waves as the blue hush of dawn fills the morning sky and gulls recite their own mournful hymns. So many voices translate mintues into hours, hours into days. So many messages passed on in time’s quiet mystery, and the language of heart whispers its own gentle secrets.
0
Oct 12, 2023
Oct 12, 2023 at 7:31 AM UTC
Voices
I used to think that loving someone meant: Loving them despite their flaws, loving their body, loving their eyes, loving the way their lips move when they speak. You saw them and loved the thing they call a body. I used to believe in love at first sight, knowing right away, when you saw someone, that your souls were meant to mingle as were your lives. I used to believe you’d love someone fully from that first moment. That through the lens of your love they would be perfect, and your love would be all the stronger for it. Now I know what loving is. When I first met you I knew you were dismissive by your disregard for your appearance. I saw your birthmark and your imperfect teeth. And judged you for it. I heard your awkward laugh, And your dismissal of things that I thought were important. And I thought you were foolish and disdainful. Your body was like those birds which stand above the water they fish in, and it was funny. But we braved trials together. And I began to know you, to really see you. I learned what it meant when you said, “Eh.” I learned your handwriting and the way you eat. Ketchup. Everything drowning in ketchup. I saw you. And before I knew it, I loved you too. I didn’t see your birthmark. I loved making you laugh. I thought it was funny and endearing watching you fold yourself into a Chevy S10. In other words, a tiny red truck, for the layman. We passed each other notes, like kids. We argued, all the time. Now we “discuss.” We eat at the same diner every day. The waitress brings our drinks right when we sit down but not menus. We sit and don’t talk, for hours. in the diner, on the couch. But in the car while you drive, because you love to drive (especially in the snow), sometimes I think you talk just to fill t h e s p a c e. We drive thirty mintues to go to Olive Garden on a Sunday. In a blizzard. The waitress gave us nine mints. (So it was worth it.) You texted me (at 2am) when your brother-in-law left your sister. and you asked me what to do. When I fall asleep in the car to a ‘patriot’ radio station you drive slowly so I’m not disturbed. You are ridiculous. And I have also become ridiculous. Half of what I say, are our jokes. So none of it makes sense to anyone else. The same words fall from our lips at the same time. My hand is your hand and now your thoughts are my thoughts and we are sameness. I think I know now what love is. It’s not despite. It’s not instead. It’s not because of. It’s seeing and accepting those flaws. Until you don’t see them anymore.
0
Feb 21, 2017
Feb 21, 2017 at 11:38 AM UTC
A Red Chevy S10
I used to think that loving someone meant: Loving them despite their flaws, loving their body, loving their eyes, loving the way their lips move when they speak. You saw them and loved the thing they call a body. I used to believe in love at first sight, knowing right away, when you saw someone, that your souls were meant to mingle as were your lives. I used to believe you’d love someone fully from that first moment. That through the lens of your love they would be perfect, and your love would be all the stronger for it. Now I know what loving is. When I first met you I knew you were dismissive by your disregard for your appearance. I saw your birthmark and your imperfect teeth. And judged you for it. I heard your awkward laugh, And your dismissal of things that I thought were important. And I thought you were foolish and disdainful. Your body was like those birds which stand above the water they fish in, and it was funny. But we braved trials together. And I began to know you, to really see you. I learned what it meant when you said, “Eh.” I learned your handwriting and the way you eat. Ketchup. Everything drowning in ketchup. I saw you. And before I knew it, I loved you too. I didn’t see your birthmark. I loved making you laugh. I thought it was funny and endearing watching you fold yourself into a Chevy S10. In other words, a tiny red truck, for the layman. We passed each other notes, like kids. We argued, all the time. Now we “discuss.” We eat at the same diner every day. The waitress brings our drinks right when we sit down but not menus. We sit and don’t talk, for hours. in the diner, on the couch. But in the car while you drive, because you love to drive (especially in the snow), sometimes I think you talk just to fill t h e s p a c e. We drive thirty mintues to go to Olive Garden on a Sunday. In a blizzard. The waitress gave us nine mints. (So it was worth it.) You texted me (at 2am) when your brother-in-law left your sister. and you asked me what to do. When I fall asleep in the car to a ‘patriot’ radio station you drive slowly so I’m not disturbed. You are ridiculous. And I have also become ridiculous. Half of what I say, are our jokes. So none of it makes sense to anyone else. The same words fall from our lips at the same time. My hand is your hand and now your thoughts are my thoughts and we are sameness. I think I know now what love is. It’s not despite. It’s not instead. It’s not because of. It’s seeing and accepting those flaws. Until you don’t see them anymore.
Continue reading...
107
my throat was kinda dry. my eyes blinked back grief and "so soon" seemed to be the only thing I could stammer out of the ocassion. you were sad. I knew it, I could tell. the hollow, casual sound of your voice "no big deal it doesn't change anything" I guess I didn't brace myself well enough Thats why everything crashed down on my head we were crashing together. so I was slow to pick up the pieces of your wreckage and I had no clue what to do with mine. I could'nt lose myself though through the one-by-one pain of having to say "keep in touch" to all your close friends in such a short time span I think you deserved to find me. 3 mintues on the phone 20 minutes until you leave the broken face of your watch staring back at me why would'nt it slow down for us? rewind and take us back to our friends house green grass, laughing, and kissing things don't ever work that way though You can only deal with it and walk the rest of the miles when you crash about 41 miles and 66 km its not that bad love just promise you'll wait for me and won't mind my blisters when I get there. .
0
Oct 15, 2010
Oct 15, 2010 at 9:46 PM UTC
Baltimore
Centuries stretch into decades Decades crumble to years Years dilute to months Months spoil to weeks Weeks transform to days Days pass through hours Hours scramble to minutes Mintues fall onto seconds And it goes and goes With a logramthic speed While I stand still To contort some truth: Man made measurments meticulously made May mark mere moments But With words witheld within Wallowing waves wash white, "whys?" Away. And... I speak in riddles as I should When faced with nothing But left with the word "could?" Could of? Of course. Could I? Yes. I could do anything, definitely But no I would never It is a hopless endeavor And death ushers who it will And brings their heart to a still As we all look to how old To comfort us From death's hold For his grip is unrelenting, arbitary, overreaching and perpetual
0
Jul 9, 2017
Jul 9, 2017 at 1:38 PM UTC
Hereafter
Every time it's late in the night, and I go to check the time It's 9:23... When it's the last thing on my mind,  and I'm scribbling down my rhymes It's 9:23... Even when I'm exploring the stores to buy something, my receipt.. Reads 9.23... When I ask when their birthday or anniversary is... My heart leaps Most of the time, they say "9/23..." While I'm in the car with my family, and a car passes by at the speed of the law... Somewhere on the Licence plate, it says "923..." When I press pause on a you tube video, and I go back to hit play... somehow it's paused... At 9:23... When it's early in the morning, and I go to turn my phone on to see the hour and mintues... It reads 9:23... When my friends are spamming randomly in emails, and numbers reach their limit... 9.23 is always in there... Heck even when I have lost sense of time, and i'm having too much fun to care, and I ask what time it is... They answer "9:23..." Lastly... When I am doing Statistics in School, one of the answers on the list... Is 923... So I ask you... Why are you following me? You have haunted me enough for many years. Is it fate? Is it a clue? Is it an answer? I may never know. But please, whatever your reason is... please have it be a good one. (I JUST realized... This is the 23rd poem I posted...)
0
Oct 2, 2017
Oct 2, 2017 at 9:46 AM UTC
9.23... Why are you following me?
Your first time here Lines are short Almost your turn Mintues pass Your turn arrives Heart pounding Eyes wide Mind racing Fear rising It begins Slowly you move Up and up and up You go As you think that you are about to stop You move fast and faster More quickly than your heart can keep up Screams are released Arms are waiving Eyes open or shut? Shut, too scared Open, you know what's next A **** here A stomach drop there The end appears A halting stop To a slow finish A smile begins to form Heart still racing Ready for round two Ready for more
0
Mar 1, 2018
Mar 1, 2018 at 7:02 PM UTC
First Rollercoaster
For 11 mintues there was silence. No twitter rants no name calling tweets. No fake nothing. For 11 mintues the world was safe from trump tweets. Wishing I could see the look on his face. The world was free for 11 mintues. #11mintues
0
Nov 3, 2017
Nov 3, 2017 at 7:20 AM UTC
11 mintues
She wanna text Phone *** Been 75 + days Imagination keeps us going, snapchat, bitmojis, custom stickers and **** I never sweat it though Because I know, I can get her wet And I can make her laugh And I'm the person she facetimes when she's in the bubble bath So even from a distance, Still gotta be consistent. You know how it goes though Even when we were at campus we worlds a part at times and we both know. Not in another country but that distance stretch for miles 30 mintues out turned into 2 hours and a bit Sometimes we question if it's worth it Pros and cons , convinces us that this might be legit. So we'll snap and text for another 75+ days if we have to So be it close together or spaced apart Locked down, isolated quarantined, or, close together, sharing a breath, chest to chest, heart to heart Love lives here and besides we've got to settle the bill Love is an infection a virus can't ****
0
Jun 27, 2020
Jun 27, 2020 at 8:42 PM UTC
Love Lockdown