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"partnership" poems
finally this moment is here, I've been watching and waiting, I've been hearing it all along in between your words, in the center of the stories you tell so eloquently, so clever, so wise there is light in your right eye, some shadow in your left eye the evening light is sweetly illuminating the magnitude of loneliness some feelings need at least two people in order to be bearable you sat and listened you looked deeper into your body language receded, obscured itself like the moon sometimes there is no need for words something more important needs to be created in between bodies and minds, the flow of connection, of true partnership the waves started, the waters of loneliness surfaced you cried your tears and I cried mine as I listened to the silence of tears I understood: this was the moment for a few simple words: I see you, I am here there is no falling deeper than this for now truth, this scarry creature, was there in your flesh and mine your loneliness was like a sea without horizon but the shiver of depth  like a voice without screaming, a bird without flight perhaps this tango with tears will fill your lungs with innocence as you imagine a new horizon, a new architecture for happiness
0
Jul 10, 2023
Jul 10, 2023 at 1:47 PM UTC
encounters (1): loneliness
I cried at the breakfast table this morning my father carefully explained, "wives must be submissive to their husbands" "housecleaning is the domain of the woman" "God created woman because man asked for a partner" This past semester I wrote two papers One, a fire and brimstone sermon           I quoted Anais Nin           sending the creators of sexist commercials to eternal suffering           **** them!" I said. "May they burn in hell."           For the women they portrayed were doormats           Misconceptions           Monsters The other, the role of women in the 1920s,            No longer confined to the kitchen            they dropped ballots with their new freedom            they wore short dresses and short tresses            fingers wrapped around cigs            they quoted Wilde instead of Alcott            they danced until their feet hurt         I read of Anais Nin's "new woman," her partnership, not submission to man, I craved a room of my own, neigh demanded it For sheep stayed in the kitchen, The Woolf had a study. I read poetry Sexton, Plath, I wept for their starved, depressed selves caged, suffocating inside the clasped hands of a man. Loved like rib-cage jails. Adrienne Rich made me angry, her daughter-in-law forever trying to fit into a box she was always too big for, spilling at the edges, her shaved legs like "white mammoth tusks" I was finally happy with my womanhood. ****** ****** ***** ******** they are mine. ******* free to move unrestrained, jiggling under my shirt. Wetness between my thighs. Menstrual blood, they are mine. mine. I am not ashamed of what I am because there is no shame. I am woman, I am girl, I am lady. I am a creature with a voice a mind. a creature who endured much abuse, continue to endure. I am woman and I don't have to be wife or mother unless I want to be. I was not created for man; I was created for the same reason he was, to serve the same great purpose on this tiny blue dot. I am not rib. I am ****** ****** ***** ******** ******* free, unrestrained, Wetness between my thighs. Menstrual blood, I am a per. I am a wo. I am a hu. Man and son need to back down, collaborate not dominate, speak not command, for when less are forced into silence, the maddening scream hidden inside skin and bones and muscle-meat becomes song. this world of car horns and tire screeches crying and wailing from raw throats angry protests of indignation could use a little music.
0
Apr 8, 2013
Apr 8, 2013 at 6:59 PM UTC
Father broke my heart.
I cried at the breakfast table this morning my father carefully explained, "wives must be submissive to their husbands" "housecleaning is the domain of the woman" "God created woman because man asked for a partner" This past semester I wrote two papers One, a fire and brimstone sermon           I quoted Anais Nin           sending the creators of sexist commercials to eternal suffering           **** them!" I said. "May they burn in hell."           For the women they portrayed were doormats           Misconceptions           Monsters The other, the role of women in the 1920s,            No longer confined to the kitchen            they dropped ballots with their new freedom            they wore short dresses and short tresses            fingers wrapped around cigs            they quoted Wilde instead of Alcott            they danced until their feet hurt         I read of Anais Nin's "new woman," her partnership, not submission to man, I craved a room of my own, neigh demanded it For sheep stayed in the kitchen, The Woolf had a study. I read poetry Sexton, Plath, I wept for their starved, depressed selves caged, suffocating inside the clasped hands of a man. Loved like rib-cage jails. Adrienne Rich made me angry, her daughter-in-law forever trying to fit into a box she was always too big for, spilling at the edges, her shaved legs like "white mammoth tusks" I was finally happy with my womanhood. ****** ****** ***** ******** they are mine. ******* free to move unrestrained, jiggling under my shirt. Wetness between my thighs. Menstrual blood, they are mine. mine. I am not ashamed of what I am because there is no shame. I am woman, I am girl, I am lady. I am a creature with a voice a mind. a creature who endured much abuse, continue to endure. I am woman and I don't have to be wife or mother unless I want to be. I was not created for man; I was created for the same reason he was, to serve the same great purpose on this tiny blue dot. I am not rib. I am ****** ****** ***** ******** ******* free, unrestrained, Wetness between my thighs. Menstrual blood, I am a per. I am a wo. I am a hu. Man and son need to back down, collaborate not dominate, speak not command, for when less are forced into silence, the maddening scream hidden inside skin and bones and muscle-meat becomes song. this world of car horns and tire screeches crying and wailing from raw throats angry protests of indignation could use a little music.
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82
'yo be my partner' you extended your partnership i accepted it gracefully we slammed the competition tossed the shuttlecock back-and-forth, back-and-forth everyone was in shock oh how that tiny shuttlecock soared okay, let's be a little realistic... 0-3 was our score we lost in pride and in demise   at least i could dream we were kind of good
0
Mar 4, 2014
Mar 4, 2014 at 4:32 PM UTC
A Tale of a Game of Badminton
A repelling sensation Permeation of sound Or temperature Impossible A moment, a day Eternity Organs slow, pumping Softly, so as not to awaken the real Vulnerable and courageous Becoming a partnership between a drip of fear And the end, arriving as Seas fill ridges and valleys, Crevices of corpses A new bite on each blade of Crumbling spirits Pickling at each span of one's own whisper
0
Nov 15, 2012
Nov 15, 2012 at 11:22 AM UTC
Tuesday's Alienation
Father is a verb. - Let me explain: Father's Day; and Father Christmas  have tried to convince us, but don't be fooled: You can, may or will father,  depending on your mood. For father is a verb. It only works in the transitive; you can't father alone, only in relationship. It doesn't resent hospital trips, and offers wrap-around comfort when a partnership splits. It's touch-line volume drowns out all rivals. And belly laughs come standard with jokes on recycle. [insert joke here] Yes, father is a verb. It's something we each do, despite the hour, it drives right on through the night when life’s gone sour. It'll hammer ten finger nails to get the job done. It will dance, heedless of decorum forgetting reputation.  It turns manliness into awesome-men-ness, It tempers strength  with a dose of gentleness, yes father is a verb. Be sure, whoever you are,  it works in the singular: I can father; You can father     (I'm not talking *** here;      that takes a partner.) But also,  -  it works in the plural - we can father; and they can father, because, you see, in this village it's an joint activity: we father (and we mother)  collaboratively. It works best in the present tense, happening now, not "LATER!". It can be said in a gentle voice or something - even - quieter; sometimes active: directive, protecting; but often responsive: just sitting, listening; ...holding, and, hugging; it responds to need, you see, but works best proactively, works great  sacrificially. For example,  though it cost him dearly, God Fathers us and through us daily. And one day, suit pressed,  He'll proudly walk  with the bride of Christ. And as Father of the bride,  He'll host the party and blow the price; (- BIGGEST - bar-bill - EVER) And we'll be sure to save at least one dance for Father. Oh yes, you heard, Father is a verb.
0
Jul 14, 2016
Jul 14, 2016 at 2:32 PM UTC
Father is a verb
Father is a verb. - Let me explain: Father's Day; and Father Christmas  have tried to convince us, but don't be fooled: You can, may or will father,  depending on your mood. For father is a verb. It only works in the transitive; you can't father alone, only in relationship. It doesn't resent hospital trips, and offers wrap-around comfort when a partnership splits. It's touch-line volume drowns out all rivals. And belly laughs come standard with jokes on recycle. [insert joke here] Yes, father is a verb. It's something we each do, despite the hour, it drives right on through the night when life’s gone sour. It'll hammer ten finger nails to get the job done. It will dance, heedless of decorum forgetting reputation.  It turns manliness into awesome-men-ness, It tempers strength  with a dose of gentleness, yes father is a verb. Be sure, whoever you are,  it works in the singular: I can father; You can father     (I'm not talking *** here;      that takes a partner.) But also,  -  it works in the plural - we can father; and they can father, because, you see, in this village it's an joint activity: we father (and we mother)  collaboratively. It works best in the present tense, happening now, not "LATER!". It can be said in a gentle voice or something - even - quieter; sometimes active: directive, protecting; but often responsive: just sitting, listening; ...holding, and, hugging; it responds to need, you see, but works best proactively, works great  sacrificially. For example,  though it cost him dearly, God Fathers us and through us daily. And one day, suit pressed,  He'll proudly walk  with the bride of Christ. And as Father of the bride,  He'll host the party and blow the price; (- BIGGEST - bar-bill - EVER) And we'll be sure to save at least one dance for Father. Oh yes, you heard, Father is a verb.
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75
I want to be a princess, that's all I ever ask, When I meet someone I only hope, their promises will last. But things always go the same way, like a flower plucked when ripe, Relationships they dwindle, flop, and lose all hope of life! So, is it really worth it? I find i'm questioning me! A partnership's not destined, it's the single life for me! All I know is I wanna feel, like someones number one, The first thing that they think of, and the last when the day is done. I want to be their Princess, it's the little things that matter, like phone calls right out of the blue, for a cosy, loving natter! I don't think that what I'm asking for, is too much, to be true. Cos, it's the little things that really count, when someone declares they love you.
0
Jul 6, 2014
Jul 6, 2014 at 5:57 PM UTC
I wanna be a Princess!
We married not so young After many years of fun: That was the biggest mistake of my wife. We doomed our partnership In a Holy building Cursed by a sunken ship Weighed down by gold Tossed in a storm And battered by rock: Marriage was the biggest mistake of my wife. I jest of course - not of the ship, that part is true - The biggest mistake of my life Was not marrying her sooner.
0
Aug 8, 2018
Aug 8, 2018 at 6:27 PM UTC
The Biggest Mistake Of My Wife
Trees bare, night falling, Cat prowling, distant owl calling, Cold air, frosted with flakes, Of Snow. Spotting the cat, owl awakes. Owl and the Pussycat's strange partnership plays out on the wild range. One a trophy bearer, The other wisely to accept. The owl dropped down, talons filled with rat, He accepted this **** the black and white patch cat, Looking at the other so close and so near, There was no weakness, no fear. ***** cat took the rat mouth full of rodent, The owl stood, feathers whiter than the moonlit snow, Stopping and dropping the rat,to say,"My turn next time, I know," then picking up the gift once again.
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Apr 6, 2013
Apr 6, 2013 at 11:54 PM UTC
The Owl & The Pussycat
Lies and hope are toxic to a relationship as well as the past. If you bring up things that happened yesterday over and over again how will you ever move forward in your life with your partnership. Lying about the past to keep them content doesn't work nor does telling them the truth about it. Nobody likes when they find out or hear bad things about someone they fell in love with. Lying to yourself that your happy with how things are wont help either. To remove toxicity from life and love is to remove the past that got you to the point were you are now with the one you love... you have to have rainy days to enjoy sunny ones.
0
Feb 10, 2015
Feb 10, 2015 at 12:24 PM UTC
toxic
is it love or the parasite ? my pilot bulk                       aims for relief        it pursues this via                             your romantic correction in public arena                   a library stair                     (i never prior encountered you) one step as foreigner         the approach and upon a swift internal pendulum i make witless incisions hurried mended sentences directed stuns invasive i demand the compromise                   of your company hastily push at boundaries and you're not so accommodating                                                  but on a further occasion same building we exchange a battering of conversation that    then        matures            into barter-like use of language despite my harassments   a civil cultivation is unearthed tongue within this intelligence effort i lessen loosen my demanding appearance disregard my dignity      a skin suit about the ankles you're open in a vein of similarity    you flesh out your own controls we've progressed quickly there's an aped conduct                  and flashing attitudes this time we share table space a nearby café we have become quite unmanned     repeated meet ups upon humours we adjust small habits     and shake on perceptions where we overlap it becomes    more an overlay of rationalities         than resented promises fast time passes and i move into your living space                                   i pick a wildflower                                                                    and put it in the tiny vase on your dining table we agree on its colour                                               we agree on a book to make our bible material we agree on the pitch of the tinnitus we share the clothes i am to wear i switch to your diet and you cease taking medications we sleep on your lawn like children and bring down the night sky for comfort during the day we wear our sleep               like a lubrication for our chores and go about our productivity               in genuine partnership yet i feel we're just out of reach             of some dark harm we are an excellent sample pair it is all vital we grow stronger the more we quiz it recycling our ********** refine our agreements await further impulses and come closer to plug so.. do we please love       or simply indulge a parasite ?
0
Nov 23, 2021
Nov 23, 2021 at 10:28 PM UTC
a cultivation
is it love or the parasite ? my pilot bulk                       aims for relief        it pursues this via                             your romantic correction in public arena                   a library stair                     (i never prior encountered you) one step as foreigner         the approach and upon a swift internal pendulum i make witless incisions hurried mended sentences directed stuns invasive i demand the compromise                   of your company hastily push at boundaries and you're not so accommodating                                                  but on a further occasion same building we exchange a battering of conversation that    then        matures            into barter-like use of language despite my harassments   a civil cultivation is unearthed tongue within this intelligence effort i lessen loosen my demanding appearance disregard my dignity      a skin suit about the ankles you're open in a vein of similarity    you flesh out your own controls we've progressed quickly there's an aped conduct                  and flashing attitudes this time we share table space a nearby café we have become quite unmanned     repeated meet ups upon humours we adjust small habits     and shake on perceptions where we overlap it becomes    more an overlay of rationalities         than resented promises fast time passes and i move into your living space                                   i pick a wildflower                                                                    and put it in the tiny vase on your dining table we agree on its colour                                               we agree on a book to make our bible material we agree on the pitch of the tinnitus we share the clothes i am to wear i switch to your diet and you cease taking medications we sleep on your lawn like children and bring down the night sky for comfort during the day we wear our sleep               like a lubrication for our chores and go about our productivity               in genuine partnership yet i feel we're just out of reach             of some dark harm we are an excellent sample pair it is all vital we grow stronger the more we quiz it recycling our ********** refine our agreements await further impulses and come closer to plug so.. do we please love       or simply indulge a parasite ?
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77
come my little ballerina dance for me do some pretty twirls on stage, put a trance on me let my eyes indulge on the beauty of you movements for the shambles of this world need every bit of improvements so come little angel, let your light shine let my world be brightened so I can call it mine I may not know the steps one through eight but I promise to practice and force the hands of fate I'll make this partnership happen for failure is not assured so success is the only option at studio number four teach me and I'll learn you, despise me and I'll endure fighting for what I want is natural, falling twice yet rising once more so come my little ballerina do you little dance make the stage your home, give my heart a chance
0
Jul 10, 2010
Jul 10, 2010 at 5:19 PM UTC
Little Dancer Girl
sometimes-(sometimes);       i love you on the lips moon garden             paradise hills and november and it's temple   template of our own world of wild tales .. sometimes sometimes twine    sometimes silent running   sometimes engine purl               under our dark star      the wind rises ; blood and black lace        the pace of our isle               raw and in keeping sometimes the lighthouse taps blinking metronome and we use habits of coherence and practicality and partnership in some dark corners alternatives on another earth seats an uninvited guest viewing (i feel.. sometimes)
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Oct 23, 2023
Oct 23, 2023 at 6:30 PM UTC
movies i was thinking of buying
I have one wrist shackled to my watch strap dragging me to obey the sweeping hands of another like a traffic cop ordering hours of peaks to start and stop relentlessly spilling time from a once brimming cup splish splash out into oceans of flashy imaginings I need the delicate precision of a jeweller's screwdriver kit to make sense of the shared purpose of the springs pushing the wheels to wear green amber red carats tiny diamonds that aren't meant to sparkle but sit immovable within sealed circles waiting in partnership inexorably waiting patiently forever for the sun to release its shackle the chain dripping a ting a ting from the earth into a new star winding up the decayed orbiting to trap the same diamonds on a second hand swept somewhere afar and with a roll ex-galaxies expired their guest president bracelet their gasped jewelled weight in loving eyes of liquid gold not ordering us two to be a slave to anything now time shone free could not be sold apart ever again
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Jul 23, 2014
Jul 23, 2014 at 11:40 AM UTC
When Slaves Two-Time
We did not ask for agreements or signatures even a due diligence, check out each others entrails, internet outcomes, criminal records social security numbers marriage licenses, children's ages, moles on our mountains of doubt even a fingerprint on a bare breast phone numbers, mates and mistresses drinking and smoking habits salad preferences, vegan, bogan or whatever. We did, however, listen to that heartbeat the words we spoke, the pictures we drew finished, the colours that we painted between rainbows and the children we dreamed who would look like you and me if ever born and how smart they would be and as naughty as those little titters of laughter, that cleared every checkbox. on this shopping list for a mate! We knew that this partnership existed there was nothing we could do to unbreak this bond that grew from a tiny little seed into this one big giant momentum of togetherness. That's a worthwhile partnership several levels above commercial simplicity. Author Notes The romance continues....... © Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, a month ago
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Nov 1, 2014
Nov 1, 2014 at 5:37 PM UTC
The Partnership
Drug; he controls my brain. He stirs an irresistible blend of chemicals in my body and convinces me to fall for him; he increases blood flow to the primitive areas of my brain and activates the circuits responsible for love and desire. Adrenaline; he balances my stress. He keeps my heart strong and healthy as thoughts of him and us dominate me and excite me, prompting me to get tachycardia (fast heart rate above 100 bpm) and my blood pressure to rise. Dopamine; he regulates my focus. He stimulates desire and triggers pleasure in me; I remember everything about us, then forget about my surroundings; I am motivated to please him, then I daydream and become unable to stay on task. Serotonin; he stabilizes my mood. He charms and induces me to perspire and relax, crave and distance him, lose and gain sleep, feel pain and relief, get happy and upset, and decrease and increase my immune system functions. Medication; he forces my loveswept cells to go haywire. He has cured my lovesickness, shooed away my regrets, helped me move on from my past, boosted my (self-)confidence, made me look forward to tomorrow, and offered me a ticket to bliss. Oxytocin; he enables me to produce lovestruck hormones. He affects my moral molecules as he attracts my undivided attention, pushes me to trust him, raises attachment and empathy, brings psychological stability, and encourages me to want to be closer to him. Vasopressin; he causes me to secrete lovetastic chemicals. He renders me monogamous and continues to have me hooked onto him; he makes me thirst for him, display amorous behavior, defend him and us, and maintain a strong partnership.
0
May 5, 2016
May 5, 2016 at 7:18 AM UTC
#11. (Love Science #1) He Is My..., 5/5/16.
Drug; he controls my brain. He stirs an irresistible blend of chemicals in my body and convinces me to fall for him; he increases blood flow to the primitive areas of my brain and activates the circuits responsible for love and desire. Adrenaline; he balances my stress. He keeps my heart strong and healthy as thoughts of him and us dominate me and excite me, prompting me to get tachycardia (fast heart rate above 100 bpm) and my blood pressure to rise. Dopamine; he regulates my focus. He stimulates desire and triggers pleasure in me; I remember everything about us, then forget about my surroundings; I am motivated to please him, then I daydream and become unable to stay on task. Serotonin; he stabilizes my mood. He charms and induces me to perspire and relax, crave and distance him, lose and gain sleep, feel pain and relief, get happy and upset, and decrease and increase my immune system functions. Medication; he forces my loveswept cells to go haywire. He has cured my lovesickness, shooed away my regrets, helped me move on from my past, boosted my (self-)confidence, made me look forward to tomorrow, and offered me a ticket to bliss. Oxytocin; he enables me to produce lovestruck hormones. He affects my moral molecules as he attracts my undivided attention, pushes me to trust him, raises attachment and empathy, brings psychological stability, and encourages me to want to be closer to him. Vasopressin; he causes me to secrete lovetastic chemicals. He renders me monogamous and continues to have me hooked onto him; he makes me thirst for him, display amorous behavior, defend him and us, and maintain a strong partnership.
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14
Friends don't let friends do stupid things alone. *Your pain is my pain, you tears are my tears. You worries are my worries, your fears and my fears. When you cry, I weep. While you're awake, I sleep. What you think, I think too. What you want, Is what I want to do. You and I, we and us. He and she. Twins, different in looks but not inside. Joined in partnership, to be wed man and bride. When you feel pain...boy do I feel it. All the words in the world, never seem to fit.* Friends dont let friends do stupid things alone A boyfriend will never let his girlfriend do stupid things alone *Whether it be good or bad, from our actions have we grown We will continue, As you learn, I learn So long as your fire burns, so does my fire burn.*
0
Jun 7, 2015
Jun 7, 2015 at 8:57 PM UTC
Partnership
I know you want to be independent and make yourself happy, but I want this to be a partnership; we both make each other happy but we don't need each other to be happy.
0
Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 8:30 PM UTC
I don't want you to depend on me.
busy verbalizing my merchandise                                                               a display of teeth reefed behind my smile                                                       because merchandise is what i am after                           and The Revels watch over me                                 and laughter drains down through sewer grates i am watched over                                                                                           my potential client walks away                                                                      but returns again with queries                                                                        on this hot day                                                                                                  a smell like burnt hair raises from the gutters                                             and these are the streets that radiate                                                             on this hot day                     an honest clash and not some some touchy bout and here we are                                                               the costly coil of pushing business together ;                                               a lively thrive thrifty **** you"s and a dressing down        circling the other and striking their buttons                          interlaced within is a genuine pressing                toward each other goals   this partnership                                                                           swiftly made                                                               has an extreme edge and chaotic balance           the both of us must master or abandon our productivity              shall we be served by this union                                      or sever fighting ? unfit                                                                        it swerves and suffers a pity                   let's keep this one brief                                                      we manage business handshakes and scowl away with our wares each of us feeling equally scammed (we've made useful enemies at best) i break out laughing all the same-how and howl because i feel that feeling that this could go on forever and business has roots in all my moods i crouch at the curb        the curb is abrasive                              i sit i look at the dry heat radiating off the tarmac the slight greasy lime taste of the air passing the roof of my mouth the electric wires running hum into the buildings the storm drains at the edges of the roads where laughter siphons down to the magma of Hades it is waning off now                          and i feel vague i stand and i scan for more players i spot a vivid orange one one that i may barter their aura of vigour traded for my sketchy wares
0
Mar 12, 2022
Mar 12, 2022 at 9:55 AM UTC
t e e t h
busy verbalizing my merchandise                                                               a display of teeth reefed behind my smile                                                       because merchandise is what i am after                           and The Revels watch over me                                 and laughter drains down through sewer grates i am watched over                                                                                           my potential client walks away                                                                      but returns again with queries                                                                        on this hot day                                                                                                  a smell like burnt hair raises from the gutters                                             and these are the streets that radiate                                                             on this hot day                     an honest clash and not some some touchy bout and here we are                                                               the costly coil of pushing business together ;                                               a lively thrive thrifty **** you"s and a dressing down        circling the other and striking their buttons                          interlaced within is a genuine pressing                toward each other goals   this partnership                                                                           swiftly made                                                               has an extreme edge and chaotic balance           the both of us must master or abandon our productivity              shall we be served by this union                                      or sever fighting ? unfit                                                                        it swerves and suffers a pity                   let's keep this one brief                                                      we manage business handshakes and scowl away with our wares each of us feeling equally scammed (we've made useful enemies at best) i break out laughing all the same-how and howl because i feel that feeling that this could go on forever and business has roots in all my moods i crouch at the curb        the curb is abrasive                              i sit i look at the dry heat radiating off the tarmac the slight greasy lime taste of the air passing the roof of my mouth the electric wires running hum into the buildings the storm drains at the edges of the roads where laughter siphons down to the magma of Hades it is waning off now                          and i feel vague i stand and i scan for more players i spot a vivid orange one one that i may barter their aura of vigour traded for my sketchy wares
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53
Honestly, I loved you from the moment that we met You were everything that I had been wanting but I just didn’t know it yet Shared vague ideas about your store and I  initially wondered if it could be a success Made very good use of my business card and boy, did you make me laugh After listening to all of your messages, I realized you were on the right track It was the perfect partnership in the making and I cut you some more slack You have the aesthetic vision and I have the good management sense We really compliment each other and my feelings are growing intense I’ve never quite met anyone like you before Let’s celebrate your birthday together and begin to explore What’s possible when we spend more time together outside the store Wait . . . Did you know way back then after our very first kiss That we would find in each other everything that we had wished And that I’d be here in front of the love of my life today getting down on one knee Or that you would be crying and saying yes, that you want to marry me
0
Apr 4, 2019
Apr 4, 2019 at 10:23 AM UTC
David
I hold my cards close to my chest on this night that is oh so close. No fan to blow air into my face, not that it would matter anyway. The air would just remind me that it is hot this summer night. I am drinking beers while the fruit flies are sharing with me. No sense in picking them out of the cup.. more will arrive. The woman who lives upstairs, how can she ride her bike, on such a summer night. I hear her, it's the sound of rowing, a creak-creak-creak. 88 Willow, the building with eight dwellings. Through the open window I hear a dog barking, maybe two, three blocks away. This building that I live in, where the walls are so thin you know that they have ears. Have ears to hear. Creak-creak-creak.. the woman is rowing, her rowing machine rows out into a great big sea of imagination, where there is every kind of sea creature that you can conjure up in your mind. And her boyfriend, a fine painter and sculpture. He wants to do the cover of my next book.. And I think, like that's ever going to happen. My good friend was over tonight, he told me a story about how he proposed to his 'maritime' woman. She cried and she cried after she saw the ring, not because it was so small, but because she was beside herself in joyful delight. I envy what it is they have, but what they have requires work, hard work. They have one tried and true partnership. We talked about reaching out to extended family, as well as brothers and sisters in blood. Me, of my own, my father is turning eighty. Eight decades and I know him not. He fought in the Korean War and I've yet to ask him about it. Not once in my life time has he even smelled the wartime memories that I am sure waft up on occasion. Now back to 88 Willow. There is a drunkard living in a basement apartment. His legs are going from wet brain. He only calls me when he is drunk. He has two drinks and he starts fumbling worse than a line backer intercepting a foreword lateral pass. I don't want to move, though I know I have to, to keep on keeping on, I've got to move, I have to move. © 2013
0
Dec 26, 2012
Dec 26, 2012 at 10:37 PM UTC
QuestionmarK
I hold my cards close to my chest on this night that is oh so close. No fan to blow air into my face, not that it would matter anyway. The air would just remind me that it is hot this summer night. I am drinking beers while the fruit flies are sharing with me. No sense in picking them out of the cup.. more will arrive. The woman who lives upstairs, how can she ride her bike, on such a summer night. I hear her, it's the sound of rowing, a creak-creak-creak. 88 Willow, the building with eight dwellings. Through the open window I hear a dog barking, maybe two, three blocks away. This building that I live in, where the walls are so thin you know that they have ears. Have ears to hear. Creak-creak-creak.. the woman is rowing, her rowing machine rows out into a great big sea of imagination, where there is every kind of sea creature that you can conjure up in your mind. And her boyfriend, a fine painter and sculpture. He wants to do the cover of my next book.. And I think, like that's ever going to happen. My good friend was over tonight, he told me a story about how he proposed to his 'maritime' woman. She cried and she cried after she saw the ring, not because it was so small, but because she was beside herself in joyful delight. I envy what it is they have, but what they have requires work, hard work. They have one tried and true partnership. We talked about reaching out to extended family, as well as brothers and sisters in blood. Me, of my own, my father is turning eighty. Eight decades and I know him not. He fought in the Korean War and I've yet to ask him about it. Not once in my life time has he even smelled the wartime memories that I am sure waft up on occasion. Now back to 88 Willow. There is a drunkard living in a basement apartment. His legs are going from wet brain. He only calls me when he is drunk. He has two drinks and he starts fumbling worse than a line backer intercepting a foreword lateral pass. I don't want to move, though I know I have to, to keep on keeping on, I've got to move, I have to move. © 2013
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Eyes of her my wish, Reach told me of golden dreams, Little hand in mine.
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Nov 19, 2012
Nov 19, 2012 at 10:06 PM UTC
Haiku ( partnership )
romantic callings spanish bayonet dagger plant adams needles jealously guarding with expansive labor a plant nurturing most startling to find new life from adjoining steps in unbroken broken ladder rocks then plants animals finally us dedicated partnership from evolution's mist simple pollen deliveries flower unto flower cells and eggs carefully enjoined in pistil cradle womb symbiosis of light awaiting birth of spring plant and animal mutually interrelating humble and most hidden might we extract insight for our time nurturing our awareness expanding sacred ladder one spiritual step recognizing now clearly ladder becoming whole guarding still nurturing welcoming spring light emulating and repeating a yucca mother's pattern stupendous birthing young yuccamoths her amazing our enlightening brood (with appreciation for genesis 2:15, and for advice from a real life yucca momma)
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May 16, 2012
May 16, 2012 at 6:14 PM UTC
yucca spring
.Soul in anguish, Soul in torment, Soul in delirium, Soul in pain, Soul in ecstasy, Soul in anxiety, Soul in frustration, Soul in disdain. Soul in passion, Soul in laughter, Soul in death and Soul in life. Soul in penitence, Soul in reflection, Soul in love and Soul in strife. Oh, my soul, you Keep me dancing. I can never Dance alone. I search for my Soul’s companion. Who will offer? Is there one? Here are now my Suitors willing. There is envy. Look at hate. Bitterness and Self-absorption, Pity looking For a date. What of vengeance, Narcissism, Self-indulgence Dressed up fine, Pride and guilt with Sad depression, Desperation, What a line! I have danced with Every suitor, And I’ve wondered Who is mine? I don’t want to Lock into a Partnership that Doesn’t shine. All of these have Looked attractive, Yet they weaken on the spins. Where is one that Lasts forever?   I will only Look at him. I need one who Will not fail me, Leave me when the Going’s tough, One who’s strong and Knows the dance steps. Treading on my Toes is rough! Something deep Within me tells me Suitors there are More than enough. I must search the Highest mountain For the one whose Name is Truth. Mr. Truth will Undergird my Weakness, lift My spirits high, Warm my coldness, Light my darkness, Hold my trust as He draws nigh. He will lead me Without falter To a banquet Richly spread. I will follow Every dance step Waiting for the Day we wed. Then forever All those suitors And their lies will Disappear. There will only Be the glory Of beloved Jesus here.
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Feb 1, 2014
Feb 1, 2014 at 9:03 AM UTC
Soul in Travail
.Soul in anguish, Soul in torment, Soul in delirium, Soul in pain, Soul in ecstasy, Soul in anxiety, Soul in frustration, Soul in disdain. Soul in passion, Soul in laughter, Soul in death and Soul in life. Soul in penitence, Soul in reflection, Soul in love and Soul in strife. Oh, my soul, you Keep me dancing. I can never Dance alone. I search for my Soul’s companion. Who will offer? Is there one? Here are now my Suitors willing. There is envy. Look at hate. Bitterness and Self-absorption, Pity looking For a date. What of vengeance, Narcissism, Self-indulgence Dressed up fine, Pride and guilt with Sad depression, Desperation, What a line! I have danced with Every suitor, And I’ve wondered Who is mine? I don’t want to Lock into a Partnership that Doesn’t shine. All of these have Looked attractive, Yet they weaken on the spins. Where is one that Lasts forever?   I will only Look at him. I need one who Will not fail me, Leave me when the Going’s tough, One who’s strong and Knows the dance steps. Treading on my Toes is rough! Something deep Within me tells me Suitors there are More than enough. I must search the Highest mountain For the one whose Name is Truth. Mr. Truth will Undergird my Weakness, lift My spirits high, Warm my coldness, Light my darkness, Hold my trust as He draws nigh. He will lead me Without falter To a banquet Richly spread. I will follow Every dance step Waiting for the Day we wed. Then forever All those suitors And their lies will Disappear. There will only Be the glory Of beloved Jesus here.
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Semi- ——- Something new, in our years of partnership, during the early morning semi’s, the half awake, yet mostly asleep, passageway from rest to wake, as per usual, I am awake before her, to write, to think, to read, to do my variety of early morn chores, but today, her semi is populated by a new concern, an alert, mind programmed, silent, no chirp, no beep, just human punctual new instinct, let us check if my man is alive and breathing, rub his thankfully copious-headed hair & air supply, rub-a-dub, once, repeat twice, thrice, sense his beating brain, confirming the night passage, always dangerous, completed safely, for she feels my warmth, hears my eyes-crinkle smiling, and ascertains, the continuation of my existence and the statistical probability, (her occupational hazard and habit) that when she crosses fulsome into the living day, awakensgladly, that her not-too-hot-black coffee, will be mister milkman delivered on schedule with a bedside delivery like clockwork-blonde, with a half sheet of enwrapping paper towel within some morning fruit, to  ensure that her coffee will have some company… while she dances a beloved tango in her semi-, I am: *in my only~pretending post-tense, semi complimentary state, mentally scrambling scribbling half a dozen eggs of new poem ideas, mad pursuing these very words, my way of saying good morning girl, my beating heart muscling me to be sure I-remain, in the good company of the Oompa-Loompas, and yours too*!
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Jul 31, 2023
Jul 31, 2023 at 7:44 AM UTC
Semi-
Semi- ——- Something new, in our years of partnership, during the early morning semi’s, the half awake, yet mostly asleep, passageway from rest to wake, as per usual, I am awake before her, to write, to think, to read, to do my variety of early morn chores, but today, her semi is populated by a new concern, an alert, mind programmed, silent, no chirp, no beep, just human punctual new instinct, let us check if my man is alive and breathing, rub his thankfully copious-headed hair & air supply, rub-a-dub, once, repeat twice, thrice, sense his beating brain, confirming the night passage, always dangerous, completed safely, for she feels my warmth, hears my eyes-crinkle smiling, and ascertains, the continuation of my existence and the statistical probability, (her occupational hazard and habit) that when she crosses fulsome into the living day, awakensgladly, that her not-too-hot-black coffee, will be mister milkman delivered on schedule with a bedside delivery like clockwork-blonde, with a half sheet of enwrapping paper towel within some morning fruit, to  ensure that her coffee will have some company… while she dances a beloved tango in her semi-, I am: *in my only~pretending post-tense, semi complimentary state, mentally scrambling scribbling half a dozen eggs of new poem ideas, mad pursuing these very words, my way of saying good morning girl, my beating heart muscling me to be sure I-remain, in the good company of the Oompa-Loompas, and yours too*!
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