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laura Aug 2018
the cookie is in the cookie jar
the cookie is now a picture
the cookie monster tries to steal the cookie but

the cookie monster is now a kitchen appliance
loading the cookies into it, and pouring the jar
of pictures out into the sink

the cookie monster wants to scream
but his eyes are now made of cookies
and the stars now descend upon the earth

outside the kitchen window
an old man weeps while his son watches
the cookie sun set upon the hills
"hey laura post a weird poem
mc ish Jun 2018
when i'm scared you are my rough place to land,
you boast of critique though i see no wrong.
a simple spot to fall when one can't stand,
you are the home in which i could belong.

a fierce competitor one cannot beat,
she is the fire from which eden was made;
for you, oceans are given a heartbeat,
yet--your doubt overwhelms you im afraid!

but her aggression, formed in vaguest word,
she stomps upon eggshells others ignore.
i can hear the way her love is slurred,
you see her smile-behind the locked door?

in all that i know of heaven, she's there,
arms around the one she loves without care.
idk who let me on this site honestly but heres a mediocre sonnet !!
Cal Ashiq Oct 2017
The thought of you lingers in my mind
From this love of thee that makes me blind
I'm mesmerized by your lovely smile
That I wished time would stop for awhile

You mystify me with your glance
Which makes me feel as if I'm in trance
Your presence is all I've been longing
With your touch for this heart that is aching

How fortunate I am to have thee as my beloved
Hoping that you and I are the ones who are fated
You are the one that I adore
Forever will be and only mon amour
mariamme May 2018
honey, honey
       touch me baby,
rain your love down on me
i'll flow out to the sea
       between us,
honey, honey
fall in love with me
bandes suédoises des années soixante-dix et des fleurs dans les yeux. all for you, avec amour et doux sourires <3
lX0st Oct 2018
Tell me I’m the moon,
That I pull you in
That I’m only reflective
Of that shown upon me
That nothing warm
Will stay

Tell me, baby,
That you’re the stars
A vast, luminous galaxy
That your black satin backdrop
Won’t swallow me blind
And spit me out
lie to me
lila Feb 21
mon ange,
what a lovely collection of paradoxes
darling, you’re absolutely celestial

kisses imitate the taste of fresh vanilla
and those eyes
twinkling divinely
as deep as the galaxies
in which they reside

your voice is heavenly
like waves crashing on moonlit shores
and that laugh
i swear it sounds just like
a light bell chiming
music to my ears

your graces blinding rays
shine their golden light
upon sun kissed cheeks

mon ange,
you are a symphony to my senses
Do not compromise your principles for temporary gain,
In any case people are going to lose interest...
Just like that
Arianna Mar 11

         *Chanterai pour mon courage!
          Les flèches me perforent et ravagent,
          Mon cœur elles font trembler de peur.

Je suis éloignée de vie et amour
Par la guerre, qui a fait une mémoire des beaux jours.
Hélas! Avec le péril, je me trouve face-à-face.

J'abandonne les jardins et toutes mes compagnes,
Y m'en vais au bout de monde, à travers déserts et montagnes.
Avançant vers l’exil, donnez-moi de la grâce!

Tellement vous m’avez comblée de sagesse,
Y m’avez prévenue de’n’ point perdre la jeunesse!
Que le Printemps ravivera l'esprit engloutie par la glace...

Chanterai pour mon courage!
Les flèches me perforent et ravagent,
Mon cœur elles font trembler de peur.

                        ♠ ♠ ♠

          For courage I shall sing!
          The arrows pierce and ravage me,
          Making my heart quake with fear.

Far removed from life and love
By ear, which has made good times but a memory.
Alas! I come face-to-face with peril.

Abandoning the gardens and all of my friends,
I go to the end of the world, through deserts and mountains.
Nearing this exile, give me grace!

How you have showered me with wisdom,
And warned me not to waste youth!
That Springtime might restore life to the spirit swallowed by ice!

For courage I shall sing!
The arrows pierce and ravage me,
Making my heart quake with fear.
A little experiment inspired by the "virelai" format popular during the Middle Ages. It's not quite true to the form, though: in order to be so, the third stanza before the refrain repeats (the "abgesang") would need to be adjusted to match the rhyme scheme of the refrain. I also took the liberty of using more than two rhymes. ;-) Unfortunately, there's simply no way to preserve the rhymes in translation to English. :-(

Guiot de Dijon - "Chanterai por mon corage":
Like expensive perfumes
That make Kings and Queens
Have the scent of royalty
You have colonised me with your intoxicating fragrance.

Just as the presence of the unicorn makes a rainbow
And its beauty leaves lasting memories,
You have made a road map
That always makes me admire you in silvered mirror.

Like diamonds and gold, so precious and important
you are more important than the blood that runs through my veins

The fountain, lamb and ivory
Symbolises purity and hope,
You have become my symbol of life.

Just like the stars that twinkle radiantly
And the sun shines glamorously,  
So your eyes is like that of an angel
Making me to ask myself if your father is God.

Just like Grimhilde in Snow White who asked the mirror,
"Who is the fairest of them all?"
I ask my mirror,
If I am legible to enamour in your beauty.

They say true beauty comes
From the inside
But your the symbol and definition of true beauty,
mon coeur bat.
#hope #beauty #love
Anna Blake Oct 2017
i left your wine glass
on my bedside table

for seven days
it settled in the very place
that your hands had aimlessly

staining a ring around a mostly empty bodice.

mostly empty?
barely full?

you see, for me,
the wine glass was
my way of having you
stay as long as I wanted.

I saw your delicate
fingerprints stamped upon
the stem and body

just as they were on mine, under a tin roof
amidst a blanket of summer rain.


i washed the glass tonight

as you boarded the plane to the rest of your life.

i wonder if you'll think of me as you sip on your complimentary glass.

rouge ou blanc, mon amour?
rouge comme mon amour?
ou blanc comme mon remise?

-Anna Blake
jcl May 12
mon amour                my love
ne me laisse pas        don't leave me
ne me lache pas        don't let go
minou minette âme sœur
The photograph hangs on the wall by the window
Three judges appear (one carries a folder),
A tarot card reader, embalmer, engraver
Without much to say and not much of it said
About the boot in the crib and the tire in the bed,
The round faced man and the *** on his head
Painted with flowers and chipped on its edge.
And the cat near the door with its collar and bell
Flailing and airborne and mid caterwaul.
And the three-legged dog with her leash on
And sweater, jubilant, leaping— Mon Dieu! Grand jeté!
And the crow— O the crow! In its cage cawing “Fire!”
The crow crowing “Mayhem!” and “****** most foul!”
The dog and the cat and the crow and the tire,
The cage and the crib, the *** painted in flowers;
All in a frame with a sign alongside—
“Self portrait. Around the Ides of July.”
A ribbon is clipped and then hung for its owner.
It bears the word “Mention” and then the engraver
Makes a note on a form he hands to the embalmer.
The tarot card reader turns— She and her hat,
And addresses the room, “Ain't no card made for that.”

Not all poems survive. I've lost a few and let others go. My current collection of poems is available on Kindle and in paperback. It is called "3201 e's" (that is approximately how many e's are in the manuscript which is a very unpoetic title but a reflection on the creation of poetry by common means.)
sarah ann May 25
his sweatshirt makes me feel like i'm his person.
i had a dream (i was dead but
i was still kind of there and you couldn't see me or hear me but I hugged you and you knew)
ryn Nov 2014
Je suis exatlé de voir dans ce ciel de nuit,
Auquel je dois cette plaisante fortune.
En compagnie d’étoiles clignotantes,
Subjugué par ce spectacle, j’admire ma Lune.

Lave-moi dans ton eau argentée, translucide.
Sois près de moi lors de mes blanches nuits.
Veille sur moi tel un garde sans faille.
Enveloppe-moi de murmures, un calme répit.

Ô comme tu guides les flots ardents de mon âme!
Baisse les yeux, les eaux abordent ma plage…
Érode le fardeau qui étouffe mes écueils brûlants,
Des sables noyés, oppressé, tendres otages.

Peu de nuits à présent… Épris alors que tu t’en vas.
Des brins épais et sombres de cheveux en cascades,
Dissimulent ton visage d’une manière séduisante.
Il n’en reste qu’un croissant, qui s’efface dans le noir.

Les nuits s’écoulent… Maintenant la lune se délite
M’en laissant qu’une moitié; la nuit le veut ainsi.
Reste encore, plus longtemps; ne pars pas si tôt,
Je ne me sens pas prêt à être anéanti.

Je lève la tête sans dire un mot, alors que les nuits passent.
J’ai vu mon amour lunaire se dissoudre dans l’espace.
My coeur, aussi, déchiré bout par bout…
Enfin, elle était partie; partie, sans laisser de trace.

Depuis, chaque nuit abonde de vide et de souffrance.
Je supplie les étoiles d’apaiser le vide en moi…
Mais ils se contenteraient de briller, indifférents…
Même suite à tous mes appels, mes émois.

Desormais je suis incertain sur le nombre de passages.
Les nuits n’amenèrent que l’assaut des étoiles moqueuses.
Cependant je joue des promesses celestes,
Pour le retour de ma folle quête amoureuse.

Je sais que c’est frivole de penser que je suis le seul…
C’est vrai, ils languissent; ma souffrance est la leur.
Mais c’est moi qui désire le plus ton fameux regard,
Car nos coeurs ont chanté dans toutes les couleurs.

Ma détresse à son zénith, emplis, presque brisé,
Lorsque soudain j’entends une belle chanson, lointaine.
Une chanson pareille à celle que l’on prononçât,
Encore garnie d’argent translucide, je soupire avec peine…,
“Te voilà....”
"Moongazer" in French!
Translation courtesy of the fabulous Mia Barrat!!!
avalon Jan 2018
      speaking in french, wrapping our tongues around foreign
                                                         ­                                flavors and vowels,
          intertwining with each other,
                                                                ­ whispering
                                                      ­                                  mon amour,
                                                                ­                                my
        love love love love love love
                           her hair and his eyes, gold liquidated, pooling
              in glass orbs and strings,

      shards and pools colliding and cascading

                          is this truth?
                she takes his hand and mind
       all at the same time and they both cry

Mayah Nance Jan 2015
When I am with you
My soul is alight
My body electrified
Tu es mon autre moitié

When I am alone
I crave the feel of your skin
I hunger for the lightness of your fingers through my hair
Je ne peux pas être sans votre lumière

So, as I lie next to you
Tucked in close to your side
There is only one thing in this world I am certain of
*Mon cœur aime ton cœur
Gabriel burnS Nov 2018
Je te veux

Comme le nageur a soif d’air

Je te rêve  

Comme la flamme rêve le ciel

Je t’adore
Ma folie,

La coleur vraie de mon coeur
Jackson 3d
I watch in pain, she
Sings "Je t'aime de tout mon coeur,"
To the dying tree

My head aching, she
Sings "Je t'aime de tout mon coeur,"
To the distant breeze
Even the scene I was making was making a scene:
I've been freed by friendlessness, so why do old pals
embitter w/ velleity a reunion can still rouse?
It's just I'm so swizzed by reading trueselfbydates.
Shawl, who is also called Pall; runagate who is also prostrate.
To the bull's eye, the hawkeye is palpable, tangible, felt
To the hawkeye, the bull's eye is palpable, tangible, felt.
Phone went. Atonement? Opponent. Alone meant
renewal of the same old selfentering entertainment.
Narcissistic conception: a privately bred clone
'tis my duty to bully, torture earnestly. One does one's own.
British Ionists don't even understand Zirony.
But I wish I was as simple as just contradictory.
Tragready? Incipit tragoedia: travesties hurt.
Like seeing my Riot Grrl swiothrrt in a 'Travis' tshirt.
Trillions killed during filming, fastforwarded orchids.
Cast of inexpendable heart oscitation deleted.
To einsof soft life on the air, we're lost. In the sour feast,
50 years' service is a ****** on the mantlepiece.
*******, mon semblance! Goose scry to the scaly
Torygraph; Presidented Gein; masSACREDad (God's Mochrie).
It takes CITV & CBBC & pre-DWP DSS & pre-DSS
DHSS to raise a child, not a Doubting Momus.
Dreamflounder, dreamfloater, dreambounder in a dreamboater.
English country Capgras bros. of a stranger in  an oater.
Nil admirari, ennui, omnui, zennui, nitchevo.
Yet buckaroo Love's hopingpong lives out my spermself's FOMO.
I foamed at the month, Lysember, annually,
for flavour of the mouth should be Oxyjanuary.
Sandwich artists, stationary bloggers & ancient astronaut
theorists all walked Jackonoryology in school reports.
'Sweirdly emasculating, like a tall grandmother,
how I cannot poetsplain the future or its lovers.
1,000 albino bishybarnabees rorschach the tragic
lantern: swarm th'only pattern of fatback TV static.
Negress of the World dreams of unio Mr.Car
in the cave of charades that's shrine to an umbra.
Afflatic calculus of tragic trajectories, romantic ratios:
lyricalgebra. Show my working: Statement of Aesthetics, Rothko.
Song of alien vitalism, Neanderthal Jesse Garon.
Prosody fit for Methuselated muse, Struldbrugg paean.
How clean is your dream disqualidayhome celebrikitchen
bug in **** conscience, Carol Vorderline? Pigpen's plugin.
Jack of Shapes, Jack of Ages, Jack of Doors, Jack of Cues.
Best of all possible Lords to follow? Serendipitous debuts.
The Devil writhes a kiddiefiddlin' schtick.
The Devil is a devout Catholic.
Pincered zen selfsparta builtsitting in what it's from:
cogito keeping its damnable cheek above fatsam & fleshsam.
I feel it so intensely: irony of ironies when I don't care.
Selffulfulling jelly w/ nothing to fear but fears nothing hears.
Experienshit, differenshit, definitely still ****, diffranchiser
of scheisser. Choken record: wist zither, aubade nebuliser.
You pick up. Seashellsussurus of a radioed purlieu.
Your crepitant crelp, monastic by virtue of ***** flu.
Bellybutton ash/blue & green dahlia: inner & outer bull
of bull's eye anthropocentrism. Both can & can't be too careful.
Hawkeye Bennu or other siderolite's solipsism
cuts short my nut cutlet nuncheon: absurdissimum prism.
jcl Feb 22
how confusing, to hate what you desire
fighting against nature, realizing the absurdity

i loved you, more than the others
feelings deepening, lives intertwining

i don’t understand, the sudden shift
why it become awkward, was it me

in the beginning, it was harmonious
your aggressiveness, evident, plain to see

i tried harder, but you receded
i felt it, you abandoned me

my hurt turned to anger, i started to dislike you
archetypal millennial girl, quintessential snowflake

love turned to hate, to contempt, finally boiled away
time passed, my heart healed

i become numb, indifferent
stop....,  i’m lying, to myself, to you
i’ll never stop loving you, mon petit minou
Nat Lipstadt Sep 2018
“leave at your own chosen speed”

Dylan inserts a phrase that haunts,
indestructible permafrost,
played in slow and ever slower reverb all life long,
for it’s intuitive and you recognize it too well
as the best companion to the sour ending of another love affair

(but! this one differs; called love yourself)

the sad of a dying love, remembering the steady drift away,
capped by a casual remark that doesn’t sting but
cuts a Y on your chest, a lover’s coroner courtesy,
the bad humours permitted to at long last healthy escape

you’re staggered but say nothing for
is a changeable elf, a mischievous devil,
requiring constant monitoring cause you moving,
but the speed limit alway a reflection of the road you’re on

speed is a tag along to show the overall fit still works,
though now far from the obvious and familiar
and the inspiration modifies,
so you retrofit untill the parts are incapable of
bending to new demands, contours unfamiliar, old plans no good

“leave at your own chosen speed”

for I am leaving you as I leave myself,
beaches erode,  lighthouses corrode, the salt cannot be refused,
the earth demands your return as the lease is deemed
non-renewable and the space where the date shall be inserted,
is parcel of the contract and though blank, certain to be fulfilled

the body erodes, the ***** parts corrode,
and this season of the new year^ comes with the usual disclaimer
recited on the tenth day from today

‘who will live, who will die,’^^

taught to you as a young-in, a child who can comprehend
even before manhood arrives, comprehend that life ends,
all good things and it ain’t no use, born compromised, but
“don’t think twice, it’s alright”

the slate you have written overdue for a prudent clean wet erasure,
so you begin to leave at your own chosen speed,
which is kind of nice, even cool, organizing your papers,
write with contented softness that so long eluded,
now come easy heady peasy

after a life of reciting poetry, good bad and always too long,
the pressure is on and off, side by side, even a dimming bulb
sheds some light, revealing what yet needs revealing

that Day of Atonement annual visitor,^^^ he/she of impish humors,
makes Pandora play a new station,
‘dimming of the day,’
reminder that it gave you a piece of an unowned heart to hold,
leased temporarily but the temp is roaring,
who, boo hoo, for you?

life and love is all about leaving,
the pen in penitent gone dry, no refills in this new world,
wish that **** rooster would stop crowing at
the break of sundown,^^^^  when I'll be gone
I'll be travelling on, for when the new day begins,
that’s my own signature personal marker,
the sundown poet

~the first day of the new year on the Jewish calendar
  Mon, 10 September 2018 =  1st of Tishrei, 5779

  Rosh Hashana 5779
^ see

^^ see poem

^^^ see poem

^^^^ jewish law says the day begins at sunset till the next sundown
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