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Daniela Collu Nov 2018
I sit here, listening to your snores
Alluring, goofy and sweet
For a moment I'm there, all yours
Between the warm sheets, counting your heartbeats

I close my eyes
And snore with you
02/11/2018 - For Nick, the love of my life.
Bryan Lunsford Aug 2018
It is within an unusually warm and early spring night,
Here, where I begin to feel something ever so unusual while looking deeply into this goddess' eyes,

With her eyes like a pair of diamonds sparkling in the sky,
It's at this moment–in this part of the night–
Love simply didn't need a reply,

With candles lit,
As it's surely to her delight,
And with rose petals all over the bed–
That, surely, was to her surprise,

Though, right now,
Can you really blame me for having this nervous butterfly-feeling whirling around inside?

For this will be the first-ever night that I'll get to hold this beauty tight,

And for such a divine beauty,
Surely I'd make any sacrifice to make sure her every whim and need is perfectly sufficed,

Yes, with our feelings for each other that couldn't be more pure or refined,
I already know, without hesitance, our love would satisfy any god's most delicate appetite inside,

And although, this world may never know how I truly feel inside,
I, myself, know with certainty that I love this woman more than anything I've ever loved in my whole life,

Yet, with nothing more than the sound of crickets chirping within the night,
I proceed to lay this beauty down–
Here, pulling her close to my side (where I tell her)
"I love you, angel, good night",

And even though, our love never did need a reply,
She said
"I love you too, sweet dreams baby, don't forget to hold me ever so tight",

And thus with this crazy, whirling, butterfly-feeling, again, that I begin to feel take over inside,
She rolls over unexpectedly and surprises me with a kiss to seal any other reply–
To only roll back over and close her eyes,

Oh, and in the midst of her every action–every move leaving me mesmerized,
She decides to move an inch closer to me,
(Where I wrap my arm around her thighs)
As it's also nearly simultaneously that I hear the clock's stride finally hit midnight,

With a chime that struck once–
Then struck twice,
I begin to hear a set of chimes strike–and strike until they chime twelve times,  
(As these chimes come from this evilly wicked, horrid and heinous clock of mine)

Yes!–with this clock being a clock that through time I have come to slowly hate and despise!

Though, this tower of a clock reminds me of its presence with not the tics nor the tocs–
No, only when the minute hand climbs and the hour's hand meets another notch,

As only then, within that second of the minute, does my mind's thoughts get crossed and rocked–
With my thoughts that become locked within a box
(As it'll be for the next sixty minutes)
I'll just lie there and remain distraught,

Oh, and you ask why?–
Simply because of this chiming noise that won't stop!

With these reoccurring chimes that take my sleep and make most nights a loss–
I can assure you that if I don't go to bed by one or two o'clock,
Any sleep for me will become more and more implausible by every tic of the clock,

Yes, nearly impossible–
For it'll be with the next four or five hours, I'll just lie there, roll, and toss,

Though this is a different night!–
As I'm reminded with our legs crossed and with our fingers interlocked,

Yet, here as I begin to feel the warmth of her body block and fend off any kind or sorts of lingering winter's frost,
I also sense that numerous candles are still glowing bright,
(With the sight of their ambient light flickering off of the bedside's wall from abroad)

And, within this room filled with sentiment as I hear not a sound at all,
I smell the candle's aromatic scents,
With the atmosphere within the air being ever so calm,

Until that is, I hear another chime of a ****–
With it sounding like a melody that's gone ever so wrong–
It's with this tower of a clock, right here, that has just let me know it's now the hour of one o'clock–
And one o'clock, right on the dot,

With only one lone chime that I heard–as everything then simply paused and stopped,

Though, within my mind and with these thoughts that refuse to stop,
I reassure myself–
Knowing that the time is only one o'clock,

For I know I still have an aplenty of time to close my eyes and make these endless lines of thoughts stop,

So to this brilliant mind of mine,
You know that it's clearly time to let these thoughts wander off,

Just close your eyes and let your mind stop–

Though, didn't I just say enough with your thoughts?

Oh, and I can see you might think a lot,
But clearly and obviously you're not thinking about squat!

So just stop or I swear to god,
If you don't stop with these god awful thoughts,
I'll have no other option than to smash and squash your head against these bricks outside of this wall and then leave you there to rot–

For if you don't stop this exact instant then I am almost certain your beautiful woman will become a loss,

And I'm sure you don't want that to happen again, now do you?

So just stop with these thoughts–
Quit fooling around and whatever you do–
Oh, and whatever you do,
Don't let this beauty see that crazed loony side inside of you,

Just fall asleep now and you both can wake up tomorrow around noon,

Yes, just close your eyes and count these sheep jumping over the moon,
And count them jumping one by one–then two by two,

Yet, between one and two,
Surely I knew I was bound to come unglued,
(With the loony that came right out of me as I hear a tune)

With a chime that struck once and then twice,
It left my mind to know not what to do,

Though, that doesn't mean I am confused,
With the duo of chimes that struck–
Only letting me know it's now into the minutes of the night that come directly after two,

And though,
As I begin feeling as if a disaster was nearing in soon,
Still, I knew not what to do–

Because I know nothing as I'm thinking of nothing and just fading away within the scents of her perfume,

(Where I begin fading away within this serenity and hearing not a tune)
I feel the weight of my eyelids begin to feel like a caving-in roof weighing at least a ton or two,

And with just one of a few wondrous thoughts still wandering on through,
I wonder
"Could this be sleep that is nearing in soon?”,

With this feeling of a wonderful tranquil sensation subduing and leaving my whole body consumed,
(As I'm weary and with clearly not a thought left in this room)
I take one last deep breath
(With my lungs swelling like a balloon)

And within a dream is where I have just entered into–:

Yes!–As I'm awakened and with the insanity within in me being let loose to roam throughout this room,
My mind, then, begins to shift back and forth (like something caught drifting between a typhoon and a monsoon)

Where realizing as I view that I've opened my eyes too soon–
With it being this beauty here of mine that is the one who is creating this horrendous little tune,

And feeling, as I hear–
With every single breath that she breathes rattling the room–the walls–and even the shingles upon the roof,
I feel my mind, here, completely coming all the way unglued–
For all I want to do is make everything within this room mute!

Yes, that's all I want to do!–

For I’m sure I wouldn't even be in such a foul mood if I wasn’t sleep deprived,
And if this beauty here of mine and her snoring roar weren’t the main culprits of keeping me, my mind, and this night alive,

Though, hearing with her roaring of a snore that is beginning to drive me crazy inside–
Yes, as she snores, there!–just an inch or two away from my side–
I hear with her snore only growing more and more–

As I, then, within this second, try to ignore a chord of chimes striking once, and then striking twice,
(With this clock striking three times to remind me once again of the time)

–With this night now being at least 3:03, 3:04, and could possibly even be 3:05,
I know this night is at the most three or four hours away from seeing the sun shine bright through my window blinds,

Oh, and surely I already know I probably would just close my eyes–
Yes, that's probably what I would do!
But this little beauty here of mine is worse than any set of chimes,

And surely indecisive,
(As I move the pillow over my ears while I'm consumed by an irritating form of fright)
I move my body a little to the left and then a few inches to the right,
Where I hear her demon's rumbling from inside,
And screaming as if they're trying to come out and fight–

(Which is where I begin thinking)
“Is waking her up really that much of a crime?”

For if she knew she was snoring at such a high decibel level,
Then I'm sure she wouldn't even mind,

And thus with my decisions that couldn't agree more with my mind,
I decide to slightly lift her head and wiggle her,
(As I nearly tickle her left side)

Whispering to her as I say,
"Baby, wake up, I just had the worst dream of my life!
Oh, baby, wake up, I just need to see those sweet little angel eyes!",

Though motionless–
There, as I try to keep my insane and crazy side inside,
My whisper begins to intensify to a scream
(As she refuses to open her eyes or give me a reply)

I continued to scream–SCREAMED!

"Oh, why, oh, why won't you open your eyes!",

And with her snore being the only reply that she could give me,
It literally drove me crazy inside–
Thus driving me as it drove me to climb on top of her body,
(Where I grab her nose and squeeze)

As it's within the silence and in this exact instant,
Instantly and unbelievably, I see I've hit a stride that I couldn't believe,

Yes, mesmerized!
And content beyond belief–
With her snoring, here, that has finally ceased–

–Casually, I proceed to climb off of her body
(Wherein realization I finally can go back to sleep)

And in the silence, again, as I hear not a peep,
I roll over, close my eyes, and before I could even count one jumping sheep,
I hear a roar once more coming from this treacherous little beast,

And surely with not a second more could I go without sleep,
(As this pillow, right here, has just become my best friend, and the most plausible way to get any sleep)
I decide to move this pillow over her face–with my exertion at first lacking any tenacity,

But what I'd end up hearing would be like a growl or a roar of a wicked beast,

With this sinister snore of hers only increasing more and more with every tic of my heart's beat,
I begin to feel my thoughts shift toward the sentiment of either insane or crazy,

(As my hands push with more and more of an intensity)
I begin sweating–feeling the smothering warmth of her body's heat,

Though, simultaneously as I hear her heart throb and knock an unstoppable and irregular beat,
I begin putting even more weight upon this pillowcase
(With a galore of my sweat dripping upon these sheets)

And surely I have to know,
(For it should be as obvious as could be)
That if I put any more weight upon this pillowcase,
I'd likely break through the toughest of the most unbreakable concretes,

And thus coming to the realization–
With this crazy side of me that has taken over and been unleashed surely not being me,

It's here, against the greatest of restraints
(As I'm barely able to climb off of her body)
I climb off and begin waiting within the silence–

Waiting and hearing not a peep,
Where seemingly prompting myself to say,
Here, as I speak!
"Good night baby–sweet dreams",

Though, I'd hear not a reply–
As a reply was something our love never did need,

Yet, as I roll over to climb under these sheets and close my eyes
(Where simultaneously it all has seemed)
I have fallen fast asleep within a dream while holding my sleeping beauty tight–

Holding her as I squeeze–
Holding her!–
With her heart that holds not a beat–.
Dog snores in a dim lit room
His coat is shiny
Just got groomed
He wakes up from a noise downstairs
His curiosity peeked, leads to an inquisitive stare
He hulks up like a pit bull, with nothing to fear
While he’s softer than a teddy bear
His eyes are brown,
round, not square
Shifting himself into 2nd gear
A bark so loud, it fills the air
Danger, I sense danger,
Of that I’m well aware
Times like these are seldom
Times like these are rare
A little like a scare, in a dogs nightmare
Protecter of his masters care
And the noise downstairs
He likes his toys
He’s debonaire
My best friend, with room to spare
Intelligent, would describe him fair
With so much love to give and share
Not everyone can feel this way
Of this, I am gratefully aware
The dogs real name is JJ
He is not my dog, but my roommates
Obadiah Grey Dec 2013
Sphincter factor nine approaches
food for the fish n roaches
methinks its time for me perhaps
to open up the rearward *****.

AAChoo !!

Oh, liddle sister, Josephine,
you sure don't keep your
nose real clean.
got stalactites
o' pure pea green
my infectious sibling
snot machine.
I thought that I might shoot the breeze
with God or Mephistopheles
and ask them please to ease my wheeze
of my bad back and dodgy knees
Croak with the raven
bluff with the crow
the urchin
the field mouse
beneath the hedgerow
in a flurry they scurry
away away go.
Yelp with the *****
howl with the hound
and bay at the moon
till the sun comes around.
Gino's bar and grill.

Away, away afore Bacchus
doles out befuddlement
and Morpheus has his way,
lest I awake to find myself
in the company of
sodamistic bedfellows
with buggery in mind.
Harry Potter has grown a beard
he lives alone and turned out weird.
Dumbledore, Albus, no more
turned his toes and 'ad a snore,
Voldemort, who's *** is taut
has no nose with which to snort.

Ahem !!

Behind two Lilies- sits Rose,
then Daisies
for two and a bit rows.
with Poppy, and *****
Petunia, Primrose.
and Bryony - who gets up
- my nose.
God bless the Cows - for beef burgers.
God bless the Pig - for their bacon.
God bless the wife n her sharp knife
for the slice of their **** she's taken.

We can, no more fetter the sea to the shore
nor the clouds to the sky
or tether the glint
in a lovers eye,
As sure the shore loves the sea
so shall I love thee, together,
together for eternity,


It bends for thee
sweet chevin,
the cane thats cleaved
by three,
wilt thou now
sweet chevin
yield, my friend ,
for me.
There's Marmalade then Marmite
and Jams thats jammed between
the buttered bread of bard-dom
a poets sweet cuisine.
I took up campanology
and fired up my ****.
I rang that bell
to ******* hell
till the busies
came along.
so, I've been whittling away
at a buoyant ****-
fashioned something approximating
a poo canoe-
in it, I intend to
surf the **** tsunami of old age
to-- death;
I have named it Public - Service - Pension.


A surreptitious delightful tryst,
with my honey, my sebaceous cyst.
she's my pimple, my wart,
my gumboil consort.
she's the zip, in which
my *******, got caught.
Frayed at the bottoms
ripped at the knee.
baggy and saggy
big enough for three.
faded and jaded
and stained with ***
but I'm due for a new pair--


Ther­e's Cockerel in my ear
and he bills and coo's for you
whenever you are near
goes - **** a doodle doo !!!!!,,,,,,,,


Oh,­ for the snap shut skin
in the blue twang of youth
and to un-crack the spine
on the book of love.
now the gulping years
have flown away
we take sips of the night
and are spoon fed the day.


Zeus made the Moose to be somewhat obtuse,
a big deer- rather queer- I fear.
then God gave him the nod to look funny and odd
the spitting image of you - my dear !!!


Knobbly Nobby.

Nobby has a great big nose
a great big nose has he,
and nobby knows
that his big nose,
is big, as big can be,
nobby has two knobbly knees
two knobbly knees has he,
his knobbly knees,
are as knobely
as knobbly knees can be,
don’t pity dear old nobby
for soon it’s plain to see,
that nobby has a great big ****
as big, as big as three !
now nobbys **** is knobly,
as knobly as a **** can be,
so nose and knee and ****
make three,
and we - are ****- ely.


The Woman that wouldn't eat meat,
had reeaally, reeaally big feet,
her **** was as big as an hermaphrodite brig
and her **** were as hard as concrete….


Hearken the clarion call of the crows
afore the snow-
they caw,
hey, get your **** into gear lads-
we gotta feckin go !!!


Gods pad

I took a peek within
your house
wherein on pew, I spied
a mouse,
and in his hand,
a Bible clasped,
and out his mouth,
a parable rasped,


I'd say she had
a pigeon loft in
her eyes and
bluebells up
her nose.

But then again
I wear a flat cap

and stroll through meadows.


Would you care to buy our house?
It's minus Mouse n devoid o' Louse,!
Spiders, Roaches, Bugs or other,
have all been eaten by my brother,
snaffled up n swallowed down
then jus' crapped out a - yellowish brown.
so would you care to buy our house?
from an oddly pair -- devoid of nous


Though the Crows got her eyes
and the Worms got her gut.
comes as no surprise
death can't keep her mouth shut.


Bevelled slick edges
and reeaal eeaasy slopes.
Chilli dip wedges
with fresh artichokes.
Wanton loose wenches
and swivel hipped ******
Daft dawgs and dentures
and granddad - who snores.


Been whittling away at a buoyant ****
and fashioned something approximating a canoe,
in it, I intend to surf the **** tsunami of old age;
I named it, "Public service pension"


     I could wax on the wings of a butterfly
but, I ain't that kind o' guy.
rather kick the nuts off ******* squirrels
pluck the wings off - blue assed fly.
I'm the stuff that flops off dog chops
when he's up for it and high.
an infection in your sphincter,
a well
that's jus' run dry.


befeathered­ and bright scarlet
is my ladies bonnet,
jauntily askew and -
lilting on a paramours

"- Gladlaughffi -"

I'm reliably informed that dear ol' Muma
sported a goatee around his **** sphincter,
now, whilst this is merely educated speculation
from my esteemed friend his "groom of the stool" ! 
who was in fact required to wear a mask,
ear muffs and a blindfold whilst he went about his business,
He did possess reeaaally sensitive fingertips
somewhat akin to a blind man reading brail,,
and, swore blind that said "**** sphincter' spoke him in Arabic
and asked him for a quick trim, (short back and sides)
I myself being a practising proctologist of some repute
am inclined to believe my friend the "groom of the stool"
as I've come recognise -- Arsolian when I hear it !!!!!!!!

In a Belfast sink by the plughole
where hair and gum gunk meet
'erman the germ-man  and toe jam
bop the bacillus beat.


Doctor this I know as fact
that I have a blocked digestive tract,
I'm all bunged up and cannot go
my trump and pump is - somewhat slow.
I need unction jollop for junction wallop
some sorta lotion to give me motion.
If you could please just ease my wheeze
then I needn't grunt and push and squeeze.


They are breaking out the thwacking sticks
and sparking Godly clogs
pulling tongues through narrowed lips
at the infidel yankee dogs.


As a paid up member of the
lumpen bourgeoisie poetry appreciation society
I can confirm without fear of contradiction
that poetry is indeed baggy underwear
with ample ball room, voluminous in the extreme
and takes into account
the need for the free flow of flatulent gassiness
that is the want of a ****** up poet.


She's a rough hewn Trapezoidal gal
a gongoozler o' the ol' canal.
She's copper bottomed n fly boat Sal.

I'll have thee know that
that there hat
is a magic hat,
it renders me invisible
to the arty intelligentsia
and roots me firmly
in the lumpen proletariat .
Said the sneaky Scotsman, Jim Blaik.
if the pension, you wish to partake,
bend over my son, lets get this thing done
and cop for this thick trouser snake !!

I met my uncle Albert,
down at Asda, in aisle three;
he got there in a Mazda,
jus' a smidgen after me,
said he'd traversed Sainsburys,
Tesco Liddle n the Spar,
but not one o' them flogged Caviar
Truffles or Foie gras.

He sidled past the pork pies
streaky bacon turkey thighs
a headin for the french fries
n forsaken knock down buys,
shimmied 'round the ankle biters;
expectant mums to be,
popin pills for bloated ills
in the haberdashery.

Fandango'd o'er the cornflakes
and the spillage in isle four


I'm linier and analogue,
a ribbon microphone man
mired in the dust of the monochromatic,
the basement, the attic.


Simple simon met miss Tymon going to the fair,
said simple simon to miss Tymon - "pfhwarr what a luverly pair"
of silken thighs and big brown eyes and scrumptious wobbly bits,
Said simple Simon to miss Tymon---------- shame about you **** !!!

So sad sweet Shirl thought she'd give a whirl to clubbercise n pound

Squat, slightly,
tilt head 45°
and squint.
See the shimmering blurry
dot in the distance?
That, timorous ****,
is ME !
Fast twitching my
narrow white ****
to the pub.
Donall Dempsey Aug 2018
CIRCA 1922


Almost but not

They lie together
exactly 6 centimetres apart

if one were to measure
such a distance

but a universe apart
in terms of the heart.

They have just made love
or rather - had ***.

Now he snores.
She is unable to sleep.

She stays awake to see
the dawn enter the tiny room

gild ordinary objects
with a sunlight so golden

even a comb, a brush
a chair

become as wondrous
as objects in a Pharaoh's tomb.

And only does sleep
finally takes her prisoner

standing on the threshold
of a dream

she sees some
future archaeologist

unearth the golden comb

the thoughts in her

her feelings
behind glass

in some museum
of the mind

circa 1922.
Michael Kusi Sep 2018
I wonder what my leg dreams of
When it falls asleep
Probably not running
Because when I wake up
It’s still asleep!
I thought the alarm clock was supposed
To wake us both up.
Too bad it could only wake me up.
My leg snores
Why is it so loud?
Oh, that was not a snore.
I think another part of me is awake
But it is not my leg.

He was ten
and I was sixty.

He an all black
cat with one white spot

living all his nine lives
at once.

I( ha ha )
supposedly his master.

In truth, he
the master of me.

He, asleep now
upon my left knee..

Always the left
never the right.

Always a knee
never a lap.

His purrs
turning into snores.

Rather than disturb
such sweet slumber.

I stay still
even when the leg: cramps!

He wakes, yawns(
as) only cats can.

Nails clitter clatter
across black&white kitchen tiles.

His night just

Mine just ending.

The cat flap
This cat was silence itself...even if it was a quiet night the cat would deepen the silence. We were adopted by this cat just like that and the cat was given the  name Fred only then Fred had kittens so became Frederica. But because it didn't sit right on the former Fred we called her...O KINDLY QUEEN OF THE SILENCE which far more suited her essential character.
x Jan 20
you hold me with a grasp that aches to let go
that hates that I let it know that i’m leaving
Your arms begin grieving
Refusing to let go of this fleeting
The energy you surround me with
so potent
So intense
The kind that gives one notions
The kind that causes me to question every motion
I make
Every romantic idea I create
a facade
So intense
With little motion
And the sense
Of calm
You yawn
I gaze at your slumber
and my fawn hands caress your umber burnt skin
and i begin to listen,
to your heartbeat at its proper pace
as my aching heart mimics it, they begin to race
my eyes dance around your face
As you pull me deeper into your embrace
You hold me
as your snores begin to scold me
you unfold me
i become open to you
as i review ever subtle movement
my body soothes when
you hold me,
how I refuse to hold myself.
i whisper very boldly
to myself, i love you
but only discreetly
while you’re sleeping
because only while we’re dreaming
does this all feel so possible
does this type of love
and sensuality
and affection
feel probable
so i lay
and i wait
for you to awake
i wait in this space
for you to gently place
your lips on my forehead
for your warm embrace.
for clothes to replace
your warm embrace in its stead
for our little visit
to come to an end.
you release me with that grasp that aches to let go
that hates that, I let it know that i have to leave it
Your arms begin grieving me
the romanticism begins fleeting me
i reach over to kiss you
one more time
and in turn you reply
“i love you”
my heart did not know what to say
or what to do
it could not take any less of you
only anymore
What4221 Mar 2
Sometimes the earth breathes
It takes in air as tornadoes and hurricanes
Coughing up tsunamis and floods
In the electric static shock of the atmosphere
Lightning cuts through the clouds yelling

The earth holds its breath
It waits in calm stillness
Silent and waiting for something
As people breathe above it
Creating their own storms
Their own natural disasters

The earth gasps for air through smoke choked skies
And it drinks in green slime
And polluted water.

Moving through space
Gasping and sputtering
Pushing and pulling


Mars was supposed to be the red planet
But ours is covered in blood

It’s hard to breathe.

Gasping and shaking
We make storms and live through them
And walk and drag and pull
With broken bones
With blinded eyes
With scars and pain
Bruises and fear.



The earth sleeps sometimes
It snores in gentle rumbles of faraway thunder
As people live above it

As plants push through to sunlight
And food arrives at another starving place
The earth sleeps as it heals
Through natural disasters.

As the scars left by wars fade
And the people sing
And the sky clears
As we take our time
As we walk instead of drag
Instead of crawl

As our broken bones mend
And the blood is washed clean.

Green bursting from gray ash
Pink and white delicate flowers
Buds on trees.

Another hole dug in the ground
But this time it is roots being lowered into it
Not a coffin.

The earth sleeps
And the people heal
And fix
And build
And plant
And live.

We clean after the storms we have lived through
Strolling through space
Pulling up life from death.

It is a cold November morning,
Dew on the grass and a cool blue light in the sky.
There are bunched wet leaves on the ground and
There is fog in the air as his car idles on the street.
The exhaust breathes a light cloud around it,
Faded and cracked paint adorning its surface.

He kills the engine and steps out, the cool air hitting his face as dawn begins to crawl forward. Up the walk to the front door, he knows she will be there. The front door is still locked, but he knows where the spare key is and retrieves it. As the cuts slide past the strike plate and into the cylinder, the lock clicks and releases, letting him inside.
He slips through the crack, careful to keep the door from creaking.

He sees her on the couch, the television playing late night ads. She snores softly. The cat snuggled in her arms purrs, and raises its eyes at him. The animal has awaited his return.

"Come, thing," he softly coos, and removes the feline, setting it aside to follow him in a few seconds.

She still lays on the couch, sound and secure in her reverie. She's carried into the bedroom in the comfort of his arms, and laid under burgundy sheets as the birds begin to sing their songs. He covers her and then settles himself onto the edge of the bed, waiting for her to wake, but careful not to rouse her from her sleep.

A few hours pass, and although he is tired, he stays awake to see her eyes open. Morning light comes in through the windows and the clock on her nightstand reads 8:23 in bright green numbers.

Finally, she stirs. She breathes out heavily and stretches like a cat, her toes extending beyond the blankets around her. Her eyes slowly open and close, like fluttering butterfly's wings. She turns over to her side, and sees him patiently waiting on the bed. Her eyes widen with happiness and surprise, and then the happiness fades. It is replaced with doubt.

She reaches out, slowly, to touch him, her hand shaking. Her lip begins to quiver and tremble.

"Are you real?"

He takes her hand in his own and kisses across her knuckles, making sure that their eyes meet.

"I am real, darling."
Originally started Feb 22, 2018
ava Jan 29
‪after all the pain you caused i still long for you when my days are long
and my nights are longer
because i always slept better in your arms because your snores were like lullabys
and youre arms were like a swaddle
and im a new born baby once again
and youre holding me until i no longer want to cry
and even though our love was short
i have memories of your face that will last a life time
because even though youre gone
knowing that i once had you as mine brings my darkness to light
because if i want i can love you forever and still pray that you’ll think twice about saying goodbye‬
i wish we could meet again
Lewis Bosworth Jul 2018
The lights are dim, conductor bears the brunt,
So now ten weeks’ hard work to entertain.
Allegro molto at the starting gate,
My tuning fork and pipe right here in front.

But choir’s five songs are causing my descent.
Their off-key pitch a momentary slide;
So harmful do I find it to my pride
That autoharp and banjo I will rent.

If music I don’t wish to circumvent
And tracks or melodies to take in stride,
Then practice every day til I’m bug-eyed!
Perfection is the prize self-evident.

No tuba player’s yawn will stop the train,
Nor second movement snores encores abate!
The lights are dim, conductor bears the brunt,

So now ten weeks’ hard work to entertain.

Allegro molto at the starting gate,
My tuning fork and pipe right here in front.

© Lewis Bosworth, 2018
Olivia Feb 18
I love her.

Sometimes, I sit with my love for her. We chat awhile. I ask why it has come, why it is so powerful, why it never leaves. It tells me that it has been waiting for her for a long time.

Sometimes, this love breaks down the front door and enters without asking. On occasion it finds me with my head in my hands, weeping or worrying or wondering. Other times I am joyous and allow the waves of excitement this visitor brings to wash over me, erasing all other thoughts. When the love does this, it usually takes the additional liberty of freeing the butterflies in my chest. It is worth noting that I never ask it to do this.

Sometimes, the love is silent. Perhaps it is asleep upstairs, or dozing softly on the couch where I am reminded of it only in its gentle snores and even breaths. There are times when its slumber is deeper than others, when I am upset or angry and want to wake it up and demand its attention but find that it has been locked in its room and somehow I have the key in my pocket.

Always, the love is present. It has made a home within me and it has changed around the decorations so much that I don’t even remember what some parts used to look like. It has hung artwork that I don’t think I’ll ever take down, even if it decides to leave. I like the renovations, though.

Oftentimes, my love opens windows that were once shut. The air smells a little sweeter. The sun shines a little brighter. Every time it comes home, I ask it to tell her to stay. I hope it has made a home within her as well. And maybe, someday, its two homes will be one.

I love her.
I reach for the beer glass

but the glass isn't much.

I reach the paper

but the parchment has gone stale

and crumbled

I reach for the woman

for thigh

for small of the back,

but she has taken

into unshaven arms

of sleep

and snores

I Reach for the pill

but someone's hid the bottle.

Whiskey makes me sweat

great floods of violence,

sharp words with dagger tongues.

Beer boils yearning

into my blood.

So I reach

for the words

but they too

have dried, withered,

and no longer make sense.
Jessie P Oct 2018
Today I know that I love you and
There is nothing more terrifying in the world than

Realizing you don’t know HOW to love someone  

Realizing you don’t know what it’s like to be loved

Realizing that you might be changing your whole life

Feeling your heart fill with emotion and eyes swell with tears
Knowing you just want to be alone but
While I stare into your sleeping face and listen to your earthquaking snores, I think about your face when you laugh or when you’re excited and
I think about how hard you make me ***
And I realize that I do love you but that shouldn’t make me feel so alone
I feel like I’m doing this all wrong
Sparrow Mar 31
My extinction
is your biggest
Liquid rage crackles like
the snores of an inferno
slumbering deep within
Do you want to
pelt another stone,
drill another hole?
But then,
you'd best run home
and run for your life
for I shall emerge
from dormancy
to bring forth hot tears
across your cheeks

So halt your assault
Cease your trials
The fire burns
too close to my skin
I feel my restraint rapidly diminish -
it is the last wall
that stands in between
Mike Hauser Dec 2018
From the moment they gave him the measuring tape
That's the second Monty started to measure away
Measuring this and measuring that
From the round side of rings to the square side of flat

He measured the span on the wings of a fly
The knees of the bees as they buzzed him by
He measured the toot from the sound of a flute
And the beat of a drum, Monty measured that too

He measured the space between space and time
So there were no mistakes he measured it in the light
Pulled the tail of a lion to measure its roar
The teeth on a shark but only up to row four

Monty measured the clowns from the circus in town
With a wink and a nod, the upside of down
He measured the dinner his mom sat on his plate
Then for dessert, he measured the cake

The last thing Monty did before he went to bed
Was to measure the pillow where he laid his head
And in no time at all, Monty was fast asleep
Where in between snores he measured his dreams
Angela Liyanto Dec 2018
With woe, rest – heed, then bow
        Heed, then bow
Tomorrow will chance a lesser woe
        What blessings go find
A better sleep than a thousand so
        Snores of slumber began rest
In idolatry, restore the body raw
        Till lessened troubles,
        till rested woe.
Crumble Jan 14
I've never felt so secure
As to lie in your arms
About anything never so sure
As to feel your breath at night

I've never felt so comforted
As to hear your snores so light
I've never been so understood
As to know you're there for me

I've never felt so protected
As to feel your lips on my hair
And I've never felt so connected
As to curl up on your chest

As the sun dissolves
Our collection, throughout the day
All our fears and anxieties

Can simply float away
I've never felt so safe
To her
He's different
He's real
He's the type of a man searching for soul
Searching for someone to make him hole
To her
When hes hurting, because I know he hurts
Help him
Help him smile
Smile at him
Because when I did he looked at me in less pain gripped my hand and was okay again
To her
He's  not questioning you
Hes simply doing what we all do
He's protecting himself from getting hurt
He's making sure
To her
He wants you to lay with him every night even if his snoring is incredibly loud
He wants to feel your body next to his
To her
When he questions your choices he is just worried
He cares
He doesn't understand yet
Be patient
To her
When he cries in his sleep
Lock your fingers in his
Kiss his cheek
He will wake up and hug you
He will wrap his arms around you and make you feel protected even when he's the one who needs to feel safe
To her
He'll let you do his make up just to make you smile
Even if his man pride had to be put a side for a while
He wants real love
Please give him real love
To her
He's a bit of a mystery
He's hard to understand
He's a puzzle
But put it together and you have a piece of amazing work
Hes stubborn and he gets angry He snores so very very loud and he has a small disability
He can be rude and painfully blunt at times, but you will never have to question his love
But to her
His love is genuine
His hugs are safe and warm
His words are sweet
His touch is electrifying
When he holds you his body heat doesn't bother you
He bumps into you while hes gaming and smiles in a playful manner
He's real, but even better.
His love is one of a kind
To her
Mary McCray Apr 24
(NaPoWriMo Challenge: April 23, 2019)

I bought an eighty dollar dog bed
trying to get my dog to stay in my office.

She lays in the bed like Elizabeth Taylor
reclining in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof.

She, too, is a **** and she snores
loudly during my phone meetings.

The small couch bed is tan and svelte.
She is camouflaged while sleeping,

her head resting over the arm,
stretching into a sigh,

gazing across the room indifferently
as if to say, “jobs are for suckers.”
Prompt: write a poem about an animal.

— The End —