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CK Baker Dec 2017
sages and brethren
gather, and share
and slowly souls
are bared
their tempered voices
and quiet eyes
reserved of judgment
with passing smiles

moments blend
in current trends
opinions wide
and reflections deep
the concepts
and irregularities
once murky
now clear

they prioritize
and familiarize
that staunch resolution
of generation net
will remunerate
and illuminate
through the checkpoints
and formal reviews
through the purple curtains
and open stage
nothing tainted
or bitter
left for taste

cause its they
who’ll plant the seed
the captains of commerce
healers and jugglers
the coaches and councilors
negotiators and compromisers
the kings and queens
hustlers and hellcats
(who've all found their way!)
let us tip our hats
and salute them
Al Sep 10
English tea and scones with cream.  

A cigarette dangles from his lips.  The blonde-haired girl watches as the smoke rises.  Between them a newspaper sits upon the table.  

They have stopped to peruse their purchases:

The Bletchley code-breaker story always enthralls, and John Lennon never grows old.

Smoke rings continue to rise, eventually to fade away .
Hg Jun 30
we’re rubbing our twigs together
trying to make flames
but instead of that
we’re scraping back
our bark revealing rings

and things that we’re not proud of
times we thought we passed
struggling to hug
with ****** knives
stuck in our backs

we’re just two wounded people
trying to start a fire
using wood
already burned
from the last scorching desire
©Hg
TSPoetry Jul 24
Crazy, a seduction held tight
as love drips into a barren heart

molten rings amid stolen nights
forever, how you do fool
a regal regret
two lovers beget
feelings used as a tool

Infatuation, cocksure,
inviting and ego inflating
replacing damnation
life was given a voice
foiled in choice
or failure by chance
bottles blurring romance

wild rides chasing the stars
waking up bloddied and barred
no looking up
tops spinning down
the cycle kept going round

forgiveness found in foreign lips
comforting words, ******* and tongued
a late night tryst where love just insists
on not letting go
as tonights and tomorrows are one
•but you let go•
and now crazy,
what's next to show
seethroughme Oct 2009
disillusion
stings
and the echo
rings
in perpetual
anticipation
of inevitable
unreachable
expectation
we are human
and we will hurt
Anya Sep 28
You know,
The frustrating thing
Is that almost all
The good poetry
Comes to me
In the night

I try to sleep
As newer and newer
Pieces
Loudly
DING ****!
The doorbell in my mind

Then, of course
My body is inclined to roll over
And my hands are forced to
Pick up my phone
And
Begin typing
...
Argh!
What must I do to sleep!?
Nat Lipstadt Mar 29
I'm your man,
your very own first Northern Star,
the first of the 3 legged stool,
upon which enthroned poets,
the world, do rule

the honor bequeathed me  
to be a  first follower cannot be
disdained nor diminished,
in this case,
the greatest is to be the first,
a quenching of thirst
so long in the parching,
the throat left burning

so come to me,
message me a message,
find me a find, a poem so fine,
I vow,
our vowed embrace will n'ere be broken

give me this honorific,
let us together be terrific,
raise our glasses,
arms entwined toasting you
and all that breast of yours
bursting full of fulfilling future~contains

I am a father.
I am a grandfather.
I am a First Follower.
I am a First Responder
for all who need a leg up.

my legs are as old as time,
measure me not by the rings and  the
metered scales of gray hair aging,
but by the muscles of my affection,
the solemnity of my irrevocable promise

this,
the blessing we earn when you post,
while we wait in quiet attendance -
for your good works

"Blessed are You Lord our ***, Ruler of the Universe
who has given us life, sustained us, until just now,
allowing the reader and the writer, to reach this day."
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