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Here again, behind closed eyes
Balanced on this fragile threshold
One
Enjoying the moment before it’s over
As morning melts the locks
Two
Tenderly tracing unseen features
Kneading you from dreams and memories
Three
Feeling the meter of your sleeping heartbeat
Synchronizing as we breathe
Four
Folding you closer, moored in your warmth
Pressing your blessed scent against my chest
Five
Picturing the glow outside
Alighting on your resting eyes
Six
Savoring our seven precious seconds
Helplessly defending the present tense
Seven




Today I woke up holding your pillow.
JR Weiss Nov 2012
they slide my shirt up over my head
and i hide my body against them.
praying
that their eyes,
which hold such capacity for judgement,
are fooled by the touch of my skin.

the honest fear
stands clear in my heart.
unwavering in the face of its own impossibility.

in that second,
i feel as if i am being stripped
of the feeble illusion that has granted me access
to thier desires and passions.

i'm truly ashamed in that moment
for having tricked them
into thinking
i am so much more
then i truly am.
lifeonLSD Sep 2018
“The temperture wasn’t even rising,
but I could feel a drop of sweat fall down my neck.“

“The crazy thing was

I didn’t even moved a millimeter the second his skin
came in contact with mine, my heart had already
stopped beating for a moment.“

“It was almost earie, maybe devine,
it drove an immediate shiver down my spine,
but not in a creapy way or anything.”

“It was rather like it pushed my back upwarts
and my head was held high like someone
had pulled a string and pulled me up
showing off in some sorts, I found myself
somehow showing full in pride.“

“And ofcourse it didn’t stop him from coming nearer”

“Not at all.”

“Instead, I saw him inhaling deeply,
his chest was grewing bigger and he closed his eyes
with his penetrating stare fixed on me.”

“He was never stopped in his tracks.”

“Eventually he got close enough to send his nose
along my neck, slowely moving up to my ear
while his hands were holding and grabbing my arms,
pushing and pulling, now moving towards my neck,
but not without softly caressing my ******* first.”

“As he leaned in closer, inhaling more of my scent
I heard his lips part, the sweetest whisper
escaped his tongue that made me feel the heat in depth
of his desire pulsing against my skin, setting
every fibre of my being aflame,
I am his this instant and he doesn’t even know it yet.”
fromthebookaboutyou
English Jam Mar 2018
My golden years are a retrospective view
Doubtful, not sure, might be a last dance
One day I was gum-chewing with my Batman yo yo
Now my soul is rubber, and it leaks on the outside
Faded away from the youthful days
Once giddy pleasure
Now it’s all so
serious

The teen lifestyle washed over within seconds
Sure it’s fun to friends
Entertaining to have enemies
But the squabbles and meanders slow you down
The pitiful liars and desperate seekers
Worship through blasphemy whatever they care
Limbs don’t respond
Thoughts and actions don’t line up

You see it for what it truly is
Baby
You’re in danger
of maturing

Forgotten and dazed
Sitting in a broken armchair
It's difficult seeing through the fogginess
Finding the missing hours
Difficult on a drowse

...I work only weekdays (don't we all)...
...Fantastic gatherings on Sundays (family days)...
...Jimi Hendrix, he's good (bit of an understatement, mate)...
....He's the kind of guy I wish I could...

...etc...
empty seas Nov 2018
it was dark
the closet
small, too
i put the sandbag down
he did too
i tried to leave
when he grabbed me
wrapped his arms around me hard
pinning my arms to my sides
and i was frozen
all i could say was
“Boy, what are you doing”
(******, i know
but thoughts were frozen in my head)
and he
kept squeezing
like we were old friends
when i considered him a stranger
i was frozen
petrified
a thousand other synonyms all applied
is he going to hurt me?
he lifted me up slightly
and i said again
“what are you doing?”
that’s when
he slapped his hand on my mouth
said “you’re under arrest”
but then someone came in the room
and he let go of me and left
what did i do wrong?
i was friendly
i joked
but i never did anything inviting
so why?
Daisy Marrow Sep 2013
The first time I saw you it was in math class.
I didn't notice anything about you at first I just memorized the back of how your head was.
After all, I had an hour to ****.
The second time I saw you were in English class.
You sat next to me but not by choice.
But I was happy about it.
It took me about four to five weeks to talk to you,
and I wasn't even the one to speak first.
You introduced yourself and then we worked together on an assignment.
It's been two weeks and I haven't said another word and I probably won't out of random.
My anxiety swallows me whole
and I'm sorry I can't even say hello.
But I have had time to notice you.
And let me just say
I'm in love with your taste in music
I'm in love with the way you hold your books
thinking that if you change the sound of your voice when the diagonal changes,
or if you struggle reading words you've never seen before and sit there for a few seconds trying to piece together what they mean.
I love how you can play the mandolin, you should show me sometime.
As I think about these things I also pick up how you would never even think of me.
I mean really,
you probably want some girl that's outgoing and can strum a guitar solo at midnight with you.
You probably want someone with long hair you can intertwine your fingers in,
or someone you can spend an afternoon together after church with.
I can't move mountains
and I can't even speak without looking like a fool,
but even if nothing will ever happen
It would be just as quite exciting being friends with you.
We could trade books and make each other mixtapes.
It hasn't even been a month yet and I'm already writing mediocre poetry about you.
I'm sorry about that by the way.
I'm not asking for a relationship but a friendship with someone like you would feel just the same.
I wrote this in like 20 minutes and I apologize I don't even know
2013
Thera Lance Oct 2018
The movies lie,
Every single image that flashes through these eyes of mine
Promises that I’ll have more
Seconds to braid your hair,
Minutes to whisper sorry so that
The past no longer drags you down with cold steel
Biting deep.

There should be
More moments to hold your hand as
The hourglass’s red sand dribbles through your fingers
And pools around us,
Mirroring a world where
We could have walked side by side,
With sunlight streaming through your hair
And moonlight illuminating our bed where we rest
With hair the same silver.

There should have been a time where
I could have held your hand
With the strength of a chain,
Wrapping around our arms in golden threads
And binding our fates.

We should have been able to
Sit under the same tree,
While smaller others played around us.

The screens vowed
Long enough to say all
That could be said between us,
Yet, the only thing that I can give you
To wipe away tears that I can no longer reach,
Is a smile.
Ilion gray Aug 2018
The people
Are going anywhere
where they will wait,
Where the aluminum tops of pop
Bottles crash to earth
Releasing one last
Tiiiiinngg!!!((())))))
A kind of
Musical note...
A single sound through the corridors
Of order-
Watching the wind tease the trees/
Like the fastest boy
On the block,
Subtly walking
Over scattered grey
loose gravel
In the parking lot
Of the park,
Running his
Tiny ***** fingers,
Through
The other boys heads
Dusty and
Stagnant,
Filthy with earth and
Hours,
their
Blood black and  smoldering
Beneath a ceiling of skin,
Every pore
Like a window
Open
Waiting for the
One who knows,
To pass by,
All of them
Believing they
Were chosen.
"duck"
    "DUck"
              .........."DUCK
"GOOSE!!!­"

I watch the wind tease the leaves of trees-
Just this way,
At play,
Aloof
To the price of days,
Each one,
Their own.
Yet, both
The tree
And the child
Are Subtly dying,
Whilst also
climbing,
Closer to the
The sky,
Those ageless eyes
watch
their tiny fingers
stretched high
Reaching beneath
The ribs of wind,
the deepest end
Of the Seas of mid-heaven,
Into the sacred
Waves of secrets
everlasting,
Where
God taught his only
Son to swim.

I also watched,
as the wind teased
The trees that held the leaves-
Each decaying
As they rise
They bend forward like,
golden fields of days
Like sun-beaten blades of grass,
Their giant broken bodies
Like stones
So still,
That at times,
unfortunate seconds
Drifting past
Quietly,
wander
Too long
In the sadness,
Then crash
Violently,
In the silence.

If you ask some of the
people,
They will say
"We are going everywhere,
And yet we have found nothing-
Nothing/
While we wait-"

I have watched the wind tease
Everything,
All that I can hold in my eyes,
There
Where there is life everlasting-
Fingerprints,
Left after
the years wrapped it's hands
Around my neck squeezing
Till my skin began
To die and wither,
Like a brown trout
Tired, and weary
Floating way too
Close to the bank
As the edge of March,
Eat the last days of winter,
Now the evenings
Fall like ash,
Slowly arriving,
Hovering,
Softly
covering my shoulder.
The long night has just begun
Solemn and Subtle, sewn with
years
And hours
Of days that dripping
minutes
Never fill,
Arriving always
at the coldest hour
From the woods
That none
Can enter,
Lest you have reinforced your thoughts
With stolen rays of sunshine
Lest you have mapped
Constellations in the
Shattered glass  
From the broken
Windows of your eyes
Desmond the poet Aug 2018
It’s a good day the lord granted.
Everything seems so perfect.
Weather is sweet.
Sun’s shining.
What could go wrong?

…….Until…..

I felt you coming.
Like a hijacker through a rear view mirror.
How I wish for a false alarm.
Dear lord may this cup pass.
A moment to accept the inevitable arrived.

Oh my God! you seized me once again.
You came like a thief at midnight.
You hijacked my mind.
You exposed me to wrath of migraines.
Horrible 30 seconds in a 24hour day.
It's like a small stain on a white garment.

The cruelty of an epileptic seizure is inevitable.
https://m.facebook.com/EpilepsyandCpfriends
This an expression of how a 30seconds encounter with with an epileptic seizure can ruined the whole 24hour day.
onlylovepoetry Mar 2018
Friday night immodesty

theater on East 4th street @ 8:00pm,
so the girlie stuff commences on schedule
90 minuets a-priori and the medley music
(adele+amy+alicia+ pink bach for some zing)
a harbinger, a pioneer Greek heralding of
Friday night immodesty

the clothes laid out upon the bed, the shoes,
pumps selected and already on,
(always a puzzler to me,)
the subdued lower east side jewelry possibilities,
on the dresser drawer,
indifferently hoping for selection, but
casually beaming quietly,
like those kids waiting for interviews in the waiting room
of the college Admissions Dean’s office,
all with serious smiles
and tiny tearing eyes

aside:
helloooooo, I am in a poetry polo with my best jeans ready to go
2 hours before the curtain calls out,
hellooooooo

she sits at the makeup mirrored desk,
clad in only her underneath garments of varying utility,
when I sweep in imperially
and with one hand twist gentle her hair upwards,
betraying
her neck nape which is again
the sujet of a poem aborning

lips,
like a Greek lyre strings, pluck, the tiny hid hairs never seen,
her instant moans at the never fully expected motion poem,
beg more mercy but no quarter given despite repeated cries
of you’ll mess my makeup,
the best defense known to a lady!

god gave men two thumbs to lift up,
simultaneously stimulating,
slide down each of the thin black brasserie strap invitations,
upon each, a writ,
upon her flesh colored shoulders,
stating
“what was she thinking!”

my lips,
now polar explorers, those power (filled) poles side by side,
(east/west for the designer was a smart
bipolar guy-person);
the lips play silent night progressive jazz,
tinkling with higher noted keys,
nape to shoulders moving down to the back’s prefrontal lobe,
the small of her back, the body’s quivering,
a con-federate flag of surrender

her last defense swept aside, we drink honey and milk,
celebrate the week’s mellifluous finish with immodest touching,
the lower east side will belong tonite
to only the hipsters, the millennials,
as our hips are milling and  otherwise
pre-theater and post, occupado

some hours later, watching TV and eating delivered Chinese,
she laterally and literally arm punches my arm
intensely to mark her discontent,
still annoyed,
for I

1) messed up her makeup,
2) best blouse to the dry cleaner and
3) the tickets wasted, and worse,
hits me again!

after I laugh and giggle upon proffering
most modestly, most assuredly,
seconds of
onlylovepoetry

9.21am Saturday
thank you all who liked this tale of
the poetry in the details
of our lives.
olp
ryn Nov 2014
I've stared...
Longingly forever into you
You'd stare back but you never really knew
Hands of hours, minutes and seconds I've shook
All the time I've carelessly took

I've witnessed...
That etched on each one, that amazing smile
A crutch forged of sunrays that had carried me many a mile
It's all that I have to know of you
In this endless chase I've sought to pursue

I've envisioned...
Different ways you'd wear your crown
Various trimmings on lavish gowns
Smitten by the way you sport your paint
The nectarous song sung in your gait ever so faint

I've imagined...
The addictive rise and fall of your every breath
Bringing me back to life after every death
Pulses of sweet nothings that never did ebb
Ensnaring my heart with your silk spun web

I've believed...
You are the queen of my future tale untold
I've felt it so real like verses written in bold
But I've awakened from slumber into terrifying reality
Pains me to realise that you're nothing but
imaginary*...
ryn Nov 2014
In solitude...
There's constant talk of the moon
And incessant wishes upon stars
Each word is cast unto paper
Unsure if they'd stretch that far

In solitude...
I embody pelts of droplets from the sky
As thunder mark the seconds that would elapse
Stagnant puddles of liquid dreams
Ever flowing in endless traps

In solitude...*
I feel the urge to lose all balance
Aloneness beckons like a long lost friend
Always strange but familiar
To see and be at the bitter end
v V v Jul 2018
I have been to where
the lonely go, and I’ve
seen their luring towers,
calling those who
have no hope, who come
from far away to see

if coming was a mistake.

Will we ever know
who doesn’t go?
and what of those that go
but remain unknown?
Perhaps they go at night.

The horror of it.

To not be able to see the end
but still it comes and quickly.
A silent floating moment
in a winter of regret,
a springtime of longing,
a summer of sunshine,
Or a fall to the end

of the world in 7 seconds.

A super cosmic collider of
meticulous destruction.

Whether we stay or go
its all the same,
multi-layered levels of
brokenness,
no one is immune.
No one is immune.

Some spend time putting
things back together,
the spacing allows it.
Others break over
and over
and over again,
no space for repair

while the pull of the towers,
the flaming red towers and the fog rolling down
from the west promise silence.

When I stood at the edge and looked over,
the noise was deafening.

The ones without space
cannot hear.
When our eyes meet it’s like a flash of lightning
With each new moment the feeling is heightening
I can’t believe it took us this long
To realize what we had before it was gone
W Oct 2018
I remember the moment our eyes met
I swear I saw the flowers around us
bloom
I swear i heard fireworks
All because our eyes had met
And in that moment it felt like time had stopped
Just for a second

W.K
Hadiy Syakir Sep 2018
no one is subscribing
to the universal affection
draining subconscious ailment
that needs no treatment
quaking with fear
shaking with revulsion
looking to prolong
an hour, a minute
stretching one seconds
into ten seconds
where are we going,
past the streetlights
the crossroads
the commotion
inside the canal boat
that surrounds and accompanies
this road -
will it ends one day,
sometimes, somewhere
and brings an end
to the entire's generation
guilt and disease?
Ilion gray Oct 2018
The simple life of pillows,
Or clouds.
Both being of stellar variety.
the burning gasp of being saved,
everything goes eventually,
If  you leave the room
The space will be missing something;
When it is found,
A trillion Seconds you
thought you lost,
will catch up to you.
All things return
To their someplace;
Now all that is earthly
around me,
has begun to rustle
And wave,
There is no other planet to go
To,
There is no farther away,
The machines are eating the child’s
Tomorrow’s,
The air is bleeding
It’s invisible hue,
The earth in search,
Desperate to borrow
Time,
pilfered from
Everything with an ending
The hour is coming,
You and I will seek
It to;
Just up that way
Then to the right,
Through the frozen fields
of nimbus Pass,
Just a horseshoe
toss from
the holy
Water-rise,
Watching,
Where nothing falls-
While the drifting spritzes-
Do not drip-
But climb.

The mountain staircase
Of night;

I will go.

Because the hour draws close;
And soon when the
Unending dusk grows,
No road will be empty.

Perhaps I will
Return to someplace,
That will only be a place
Once I’ve arrived,
Someplace as lost as all the rocks,
I’ll build a throne and observe
The might of the almighty,
The Strong roots of infinite
Shades of blackness-
Where all creation
Happens
ryn Nov 2014
While you were away,
My words seem to fall on deaf ears.
Unvoiced mutterings that fall out in droves,
Burning rants swallowed back in singes and sears...

While you were away,
Time was stagnant; a viscous puddle.
Hours only stretched longer,
The second hand jabbing its ferocious needle...

While you were away,
The clock drove me insane.
Ticking my life away in literal seconds.
Losing sand grain by grain...

While you were away,
And when it's all quiet and dark,
I could hear my heartbeat...
Awaiting the new day to make its mark.

While you were away,
My words seem to have lost their meaning...
As if they were stuck in limbo,
Unanswered calls that keep on ringing...

While you were away,*
I am but a little lost foal...
Because whenever you're away,
I am never whole...
Jaycee Dec 2014
Would you shut up for five seconds?
I wish I could say this to your face,
But you'd demolish my feelings.
Lecture me about my age.

I don't have to grow up yet.
Better yet, I refuse to.
Age is just a number to me.
I ignore your opinions, I have my own views.
Ilion gray May 2018
I am yours.
To keep
Or ****,
To own
Or burn
Freeze and melt
And drip down into
Earth.. Yours.
         


Until..
nights are dreamless/
the sky loses its mind
Ascends into shadows of cosmos/
     I am Yours-
Still/
      Because when you kiss me
I forget that I am empty,
I forget that I am a drifter,
Into every morning that bears
A
Dying day..

Because when you kiss me,
Perfect Planets arrive,
Quietly
traveling,
transversely,
From the furthest fields of gods face,
Across His most holy ancient eyelids,
Of eons,
Of galaxies,
Out, from relentless darkness,
Your smile Ignites spinning
Stones/
Sets stars aflame,
Pouring down
Crashing through
Each invisible sphere
Breaking
Down
into the firmament,
Then fall onto the Frozen mountaintops,
I watch
Life  
drip,  
subtly
Through gods fist
into the throat of earth..

If you squeeze my heart..
take it...please,
when you stop loving me..
Keep it,
So be it.
Because you rearranged
the notes,
Adjusted the measure
Of its beating
to the symphony
Of you breathing,
arpeggio,
When my soul
was yours..
inside of you)
                
                                         ( in the distance..)
                          (Everything they built was dying)
                        (Clouds were falling down to                            earth)
(could smell seconds burning)
                    (today the world broke)

                         You enter
                             .........

the barred windows and ***** Walls
shatter,
and collapse/
Angels
wrapped in raindrops
came,
rushing down
Through
The Ceiling.

Because I have found you,
I no longer wade in black
       puddles of hours

In you the earth stands still..
        
Only you can make it turn again.

Give me your hand..
though I walk with wild fires,
flames will never reach you,
I will hide you beneath my skin,
in between my bones/
If ever you tire
Of fear..
tire,
of being alone,
For all your prayers
God did not hear..
I will cast a single stone
Up into the endless ever,
then...
Quietly,
wait at his feet
For an answer..
when The gate opens...
Without gesture,
In silence,
Without question-
I would return all of my years to him..
So that you,
could return to heaven.
C Davis Apr 2015
Who counted hours out of the sky
And clipped the ends off?
Who quantified
Existence?
Who cheapened the flights of the sun and the moon
And put limits on time
Trapping limitless eyes?

Each day
Is one thousand days and each hour
Is one thousand hours, and
Years pass in seconds
While seconds last lifetimes
Sometimes

But my calendar

Has no capacity for this.

A moment
Lasts as long
As the glow lingers
When it's gone

And all the while
The clocks tick on,

I maintain whoever measured
The day
Was wrong.
Darison Strange Aug 2018
Monday, August 6, 2018
11:33 PM

Time slips away with hardly a second glance,
it slips silently into the void of forgetfulness and busyness.
What moments pass us by in those forgotten seconds,
hours,
days?
Our busy lives striving for that next dose of the drug called comfort,
Of a sip from the pool of peace and quiet.
Those glimpses into a reality so unlike our own.
We long for one more moment,
We sacrifice so many forgotten seconds on the altar of our discontent.

To survive,
to persist,
we allow our lives to slip through our fingers like sand through an hourglass.
What battles have we lost without stepping foot on the battlefield?
What victories have we forfeited by never entering the ring?

Have forgotten who we are?
Did we ever know?
That question gnaws at the core of your soul like the persistent unrelenting dripping of rain on a tin roof.
A tiny pinprick in the armor of our psyche.

Will it grow?
Will our discomfort of stagnation overcome our infatuation,
With that alluring mistress called safety?
Will our quiet hearts break free from the cage of our own design?

What if it did?
Could we rewrite our souls,
To enjoy every moment like it was our last,
What would that look like?

How many people have thought these same thoughts,
And gone on with their lives like they've never heard them.

When we look in the mirror,
And regret our inaction,
Dont worry, it will fade.
To a memory, and be lost in the void,
Of forgotten seconds and hidden regrets.
Struck with conviction for driving on autopilot for so much of my life, I wrote this one morning to process those feelings of regret, and anticipation
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