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Matt Jursin Nov 2010
They say that there's a mathematical equation that explains everything in life.

But I say that not even physics bears an explanation for...the guidelines of attraction.
Our primal reactions are multiplied by...the highlights of passion.

These laws of love that linger like a lanterns lost illumination...
Like the campfire light on a clear night, leaves coals of culmination.

Sweat beads lead to bare threads and bare bodies.
And oh my, how bare bodies lead to imaginations running wild.

Cold winds inspire warm kisses and close skin.
Sincere actions aren't sins.

Bodies wound in union, formed by light and tightly bound.
Together, these twisted vines ******* the hardest ground...
Together, harmonic souls produce passionate sounds.
Yet, still somehow, love gets lost more than love gets found.

This equation is unending...like numbers off lips that kiss the air.
Body language spoken...Our physical bonds equal eternity and pi squared.
And you know that every moment that we share is nothing short of...molecular love for the masses...
Now held captive by gravity and magnetism...

See, the last full moon marked retrograde...and if the moon affects the tide of the ocean...and our bodies are roughly 75% water...can we assume that this is the only body powerful enough to keep ours apart?

This gravity...
This pull...
It's pulling me apart...so let me pull you closer, stop pushing me away!
Hold on tight, dont let these planets drift away into a dark rift of decay.

Let your love lap upon this solid stone like a river riffles smooth sandbars into hills of higher ground.

Because baby, without your water on my beach...
I'm nothing but a desert, dry and deserted.
Love, the drug.
Ivan Brooks Sr Jan 2018
The world's gone mad but my mind is made up
Time to let ya'll into the darkroom of my mind
A place where I'm referee of a poetic world cup
This where I am creative even though I'm blind
Don't get me wrong I am not leaving from town
No more radio orTV saturated with very sad news
I have got enough breaking news of my very own
Breaking to me each and every moment as it brews
Come and meet the hard drive of my creative doom
That contains my beautiful and liberated mind
Welcome to my one bright side I call my darkroom
This where I feign affection to know who is kind .

You have to know that I always act blind but I see
In my mind I can walk stack ***** and levitate
My mind is where I remain totally black and free
Come join me set my poetic dial and help me activate
The code that will outshine any power on this earth
My mind is where I live and where nobody has access
Here I can run a poetic marathon without taking breath
Call it my playground and intellectual fortress .

My mind is deep, a place of absolute calm and refuge
Somewhere I will always see as the final frontier
It is dangerous and toxic like a nuclear centrifuge
In there I am all alert and vigilant like a soldier
My mind is a darkroom where I give birth to new ideas
A vessel and place in which I gather loose letters
It is my holy land of thoughts, my own creative judea
Where each idea is sacred and light as bird feathers .

Welcome to the epicenter of my creative mind
This is where I turn loose letters into spoken words
A front line of creativity where no one leaves behind
Come and see where all words becomes useful swords .
My mind produce powerful words like some light beams
Courageous and powerful words for extra motivation
Spoken Words that will light up people's faded dreams
Now you know that up in my mind are no limitation
There exists an enormous capacity of time and space
Welcome one, welcome all to the darkroom of my mind
Take a seat and be calm, be quiet this is my place
For this here is my personal creative post of command .

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My mind is the final frontier..the bright side I call my darkroom where I process loose letters into spoken words..
Arke Jun 2018
I walk through my room
touch each book on my shelf
thinking of you in the shower
touching yourself

With an open book, I wish
these pages were your skin
I'd caress each one until
our narrative could begin

with your hand on my knee
and your lips on my wrist
I'll beg for you to take me
in our sweet summer tryst

your fingers trail lines
up and down my thigh
until I can bear it no longer
my lips produce a shaky sigh

a hitch in my breath
as I become wet and ready
and you'll push into me
keeping me steady

and whisper the filth
of all you'd like to do
tell me I'm beautiful
watch my pages unglue

and all my bindings break
and all the books shatter
leaflets fly through the room
you always knew how to flatter

and when my daydream cracks
alone, hour after hour
wondering if you think of me
when you're in the shower...
All I ever write is **** now, thanks.
Apoetisonly Jan 16
I had an awakening without being asleep
I grew whilst already tall
All while keeping my ego small
Johnny Noiπ Jul 2018
I know that girl told u
   her       name was Jezebel
but it's really Tiamat & she's a monster;
   I recognize her face from  
[Neo-Assyrian cylinder seal
                                           impressions from the eighth century BC        
                      identified by several sources
                      as a possible depiction of the slaying
                      of Tiamat from the Enûma Eliš
                      of               Ancient   Mesopotamian religion:
Chaos Monster & Sun God    [Primordial beings (        )]
                 Abzu & Tiamat.                     Lahmu & Lahamu
                                Anshar & Kishar                      Mummu
               The          Seven gods who decree the       
               Other major deities;
               Minor deities,  Demigods & heroes,    
               Spirits &    monsters             of the
                                     [Tales
                                        of                      ­Ancient Near Eastern religions
[Sumerian &            Babylonian
                   In the religion of ancient Babylon,  Tiamat
                  (Akkadian:AM.TUM, Greek: Θαλάττη Thaláttē)
                   is a primordial goddess of the salt sea,
             mating with Abzû, the god of fresh water,
             to produce the   younger gods.
                    She is the symbol of the chaos of primordial creation.
  She is referred to as a woman       described as the glistening one.
                                              It is suggested that there are two parts
          to the Tiamat mythos,                            in the first
          Tiamat is a creator goddess,
through a sacred marriage between salt and fresh water,
                peacefully creating the cosmos
                through successive generations;
                In the second Chaoskampf Tiamat
is considered the monstrous embodiment of primordial chaos;
           Some sources identify her with images
           of a sea serpent or dragon
        [The motif of Chaoskampf (German: [ˈkaːɔsˌkampf], "struggle against
                                          chaos")
               is ubiquitous in global                        myth & legend,
               depicting a battle of a culture hero deity
               with a chaos monster, often in the shape
                                       of a serpent or dragon or beautiful woman;
                                       the same term has
   also been extended to parallel concepts
   in the Middle East and North Africa, such
   as the abstract conflict of ideas in the Egyptian
duality of Maat and Isfet or the battle of Horus and Set

The origins of the Chaoskampf myth
most likely lie in the Proto-Indo-European religion
                                          whose descendants
almost all feature some variation of the story
of the storm god fighting the
      sea serpent; representing
                                           clash between the forces of order and chaos;
Early work by German academics
such as Gunkel and Bousset's                             comparative mythology
popularized translating the mythological
sea serpent as a "dragon."
Indo-European examples of this mythic trope
include Thor vs. Jörmungandr (Norse),
Tarḫunz vs. Illuyanka (Hittite),
Indra vs. Vritra (Vedic),
                                     Θraētaona vs. Aži Dahāka (Avestan);
Zeus vs. Typhon (Greek) among others; Non-Indo-European
examples of this trope are
Yahweh vs. Leviathan (Hebrew),
Susano'o vs. Yamata no Orochi (Japanese) &
Mwindo vs. Kirimu (African).

In the Enûma Elish, the Babylonian epic of creation,
she gives birth to the first generation of deities;
her husband, Apsu, correctly assuming
they are planning to **** him and usurp his throne,
makes war upon them and is killed. Enraged, she,
too, wars upon her husband's murderers,
         taking on the form
of a massive sea dragon; |
                     she is slain by Enki's son,
the storm-god Marduk, but not before
      she has brought forth the monsters
        of the Mesopotamian pantheon, including the first dragons,
whose bodies she fills              w/          "poison instead of blood" -
Marduk then forms the heavens and the earth from her quartered body.
Your voice makes me melt,
but gives me chills
I've never felt.
It's just so beautiful,
it seems so unreal.
And when sung
so sweetly,
it was meant to heal.
It will help the masses
if it reaches their ears.
It will mend the breaks,
and dry the tears.
You will move so many,
touching
every single heart.
I want to promote your life
and produce all your arts.
I just want this feeling
to be spread all around.
Because babe,
you've got it!
Such Delicious Sound!
Waking up to you
is Christmas Morning
Everyday.
I just love you as a person,
what else could I say.
I've always loved your songs,
they've filled up my soul.
Because you put it all out there,
you put your heart in whole.
******' Delicious!!!
Kara Jean May 2016
Passion in every position of life
A movement never deprived
Pick your existence carefully
Unique is misunderstanding the rules
Reconsider the energy you produce
Let the you of every aspect come through
Mark Edwards Jr Apr 2013
Do as I say, not as I do
Lest you become a failure too

Despite many victories, days in the sun
The cost of it all? Millions to one

For every American alive today
The blood of another paved the way

****** the Native, enslave the Black
This is how free men freely act?

Power to the rich, naught to the poor
Remind me again what we left Britain for

We are America, filled with greed
Squeezing the world, we'll make it bleed

Ironic are we, despite the Red Scare
We let the Chinese produce our wares

The Romans did fall and so can we too
Here's hoping my words strike fear into you

We cannot repent for sins of our past
Make a bright future is all that I ask

America the Beautiful, I scoff at thee
Make me a believer, prove unto me

Until that day, a skeptic I'll be
Saying a prayer for you and for me

A future unwritten, lets make it shine
Aspire for greatness, or intervention divine

10/13/2011

Edit:  03/10/2012

Edit: 10/30/2017
Gemma Sep 2018
"Breathe for me...
You have nothing to worry about.
Oxygen in
Carbon dioxide out
Squeeze my hand if you can hear
Sit down if you think you are going to -----
Few more steps and you can forget your embarrassment:
So strong , I'm so proud , you're so brave."
But am I though?
Because their glares gleam weak,
their eyes deliver pity,
a grin , a laugh , I'd concentrate on their mockery for a few moments but my body is beginning to break into a million breaths.
I'm a pathetic mess ;
I can feel myself giving up,
the deflating of my chest,
the twist in my stomach.
Adrenaline, you've got to love it.
My brain is ready to start a fight whereas I can only produce half a sentence
then I'm done
down for the day
Recovering is the world's slowest reaction rate
And I'm never going to mend from the self-hatred my consciousness makes
Because I've always understood I'm not normal and that's fine
But the negativity created from these moments has made its way inside
So much the judgement stops me from breathing
My confidence has truly died
I'm sorry I'm not what you want
I know this isn't what you need to hear,
I apologise that my happiness appears forced
And my smile doesn't match my tears.
Nat Lipstadt Oct 2017
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


This is not a poem.  This is about a poem.

Poems require words.  This poem does not require words.

This poem requires memories' muscles.
This poem requires what is called colloquially love.

Learn that what we share here is not poetry.

Your poetic senses that produce the words that mark you present
are but surgical tools to extract, release the whole and the parts of you that help shape that single sense borning in your chest that defines you at any particular moment.

Quæ est mater Laureat.

She is the Mother Laureate.

She is the boundary you must learn to cross to be more than a re-arranger of letters and alphabets, but a translator of the human essence and fill our veins with the a sense of awe and wonder felt when we read each other and think aloud,
"yes, exactly, that was and is precisely what I was feeling."

She is the glue that keeps us sticking here, sticking together, each of us sticking to it.  

You do not know her?  
No worries, she will find you when you least expect it, perhaps
when you need it.

This is not a poem.  This is a human who's a poem.

Understand the difference and then you may begin a journey
that has no destination other than weaving the connective tissue that makes us anticipating excited when we log on.

Happy Birthday Mother Poet Laureate!

I do not think I can write a better not poem for you.  
Forgive me then, if going toward, I repost this every
October 24th as long as the chemical composition of
blood, God, spirit, logos or reason runs free within,  
exiting as words encased in tears that formulate into
human poetry.

nattyman

P.S.There are 800 poems here with Sally in the title, and least 700  are about Sally B.   If you like, please  feel to free to add yours, old or new.
Francie Lynch Jun 2018
I'm at home with my thoughts;
It's not quite quiet if one thinks a lot.
At the oddest time they rage, then storm;
Rack and thunder or light my night;
A wind whirls into a gale,
And thoughts teem on the page.
Some take root,
Produce sweet fruit,
Others wither on the line.
So many thoughts I'm at home with,
I'll pick one to eat a poem with.
Kara Jean May 2016
Knowledge, is not always wisdom.

Wisdom, is not always knowledge.

Strength, is not always shown through muscle mass.

Muscle mass, is not always shown through strength.

Love, is not always kindness.

Kindness, is not always love.

Changing our point of view, helps produce a clean perception.

Be humble enough to notice when our point of view is breaking.

Changing is not giving up, it's simply adjusting.
Kara Jean Jun 2016
Perception is a sickness we conceive.
Letting people control our reactions.
Changing our level of satisfaction.
There is choices in every emotion we produce.
Being offended is a feeling we have comitted.
What you say or do has no effect on my rationality.
Unless, I let your insecurities influence how I carry my body.
Addressing our contaminations helps open our eyes.
No longer being victimized by the lies others drown us in.
We can make the decision to keep opposition or let it roll down like rain.
Having positivity in all is an unlikely belief.
However doesn't mean it can not be studied.
Self control, dedication and confidence is the mixture you need.
Do not wallow in self inflicted misery.
All it takes is you to make a change.
There is no other reasoning it really is simplicity.
Kassiani Aug 2016
One day, I found myself falling like Alice
But without a white rabbit
Just me
Alone
Abruptly tumbling down
The floor having been decidedly yanked from beneath me

I found plummeting both terrifying and boring
The same panic over and over
Gets old after a time
Yet the bottom was little better
Devoid of a fluffy tail to follow
I have no guide in this empty place
Walled in with my thoughts
Hoping for a path to Wonderland

"Drink Me"

I'm not sure how I got here
Searching endlessly for answers
To questions that I have not even posed
Gazing helplessly at the chasm
Wondering if I can back out

"Someday you'll be Queen of Wonderland
Drink Me"

I was certain I could play the long game
Persevere to be better off in the end
Yet I lay here ******-knuckled
Having beaten solid rock
Hoping it would turn into
A Door

"You'll never leave if you don't hurry
Drink Me"

I hear tic-tock-ing through the walls
And I'm sure it's just the pressure now
I'm never getting out of here
No amount of wracking my brain
Will produce an escape plan
And it does not seem as though any creature
Will be appearing to assist
I am never getting out of here

"Don't be frustrated
Drink Me"

"Feeling stuck?
Drink Me"

"Drink Me"

"Drink Me"

"Drink Me"
Written 5/11/16
ryn Aug 2014
Step right up and get in line
Produce your ticket, your seat I'll assign
Down the steps, then left to your row
Best you hurry, lights are dimmed low

Take your seat, settle in, be comfortable
The show will begin at the blow of the whistle
I'm your ringmaster, behold the spectacle
Welcome to your life, your very own circus carnival!

Be awed, be mystified, be entertained
Be ready to witness the life you've gained
You'll see fate defying feats and high wire decisions,
Emotion driven acrobats and will bending magicians!

First up, we have a duo, we have a pair
A man and a woman, whom you've learnt to care
Armed with big hearts along with hardened whips
Here are your tamers, they're yours for keeps

They'll attempt and try till their very last breaths
Keep you riveted, as they toy with death
Love with their hearts and their whips do straighten
Teach you lessons with firm handed affection

Stay put, you ain't seen nothing yet
Seen it all you think, but not this I'll bet
Bespectacled, they work alone but part of a guild
Pen juggling and book flipping, one aim to build

To impart all they know across varying disciplines
They'll get it done through different ways and means
Sit tight, do well, for you'll be rewarded
After their routine, you'd have learnt, your life you'd have charted

Put your hands together for next in tow
No my friend, it's not the end of the show
Let's welcome the one you'll soon come to seek
Dons a suit, you might see him five days a week

For sustenance, it is him that you will search
Hurls tight deadline projects from his obscure little perch
Equipped with a bow and bolts in his quiver
Shoots assignment laced arrows, makes sure you deliver

This last act would be the best
It could be true, no! It's no jest
Feast your eyes on your evening's temptress
With curves that could **** and garbed like a sorceress

Tease your heart aflame with wild raw magics
Render you submissive with her sensuous feline tricks
She could be the one, for whom you would have bled
She could be the only, you might want to wed

This finally marks the end of our night of nights
Night abundant with reflective imagery and titillating sights
Hope you've the enjoyed the performances we've lined
Hope we've lit the spark in your body and mind

Before we part and go on our own separate ways
Before the sun rises for the rest of our days
Allow me to leave you with one final say
"Life will be the ultimate circus; whether or not you choose to play".
Woody Sep 2018
Today began with the best
of intentions, I made a list
of all that needs doing:

Sort out receipts for
those things FEMA
will assist with, but hope
is a check in the mail, Yo.

Faith I gave up
a long time ago,
and evaporated milk
in coffee still *****.

(Any if y’all have a cow for sell?
There’s no dairy products or produce
to be found in The Ferry, but plenty
of smokes, alcohol and dope. Go figure)

I YouTube’d how to
replace roof shingles
and now I’ve changed
my resume to Hammer
and Tacs, but No Sycles:
Will Work for Freedom
and Women for Free
Room and Back Rubs
Hot Tubs, Soft Beds,
No Board required.

(Those of a certain sort
of persuasion, of course.) ;)

I even posted online
for work in Amsterdam
or any **** place but here.

(And here is a big **** place.)

****, I’ll even go back to Afghanistan
and repair those errant holes on stone
statues  and clay homes; I’m also quite handy with a trowel and shovel, you know, though I don’t dig hats like Indiana Jones;  no,
no hat man here, me, you see.

(Particularly those tacky red MAGA hats
that remind me how great America once was, and the check’s in the mail, Dreamas)
Yo. A bit of a lightheated post. My best of choring intentions drained out somewhere between Harris Teeter and the pub where I stopped for a cold beer. Tomorrow is Mundy, after all.

It’s Thursdy now and I’m thirsty.  My local pub Blackbeard’s is mostly gone. The Riverview lost her fish house and all shuttered up. McDs doesn’t serve the kind of beverage I need. Still no milk to be found in the Ferry. FEMA came for an inspection of my place. Ha!  10 minutes and on his way. You good, bro, he say. Yo.
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