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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.
matilda shaye Aug 2018
1
I read in a poem that there is no sound more ****** than the clink of a belt being undone but you only wear worn out t-shirts and a frown on your face. I think of the sound of tires driving slowly over the asphalt and how I could get turned on easier by a look than a touch.  Your bed and you both taste like sweat but I am not going to complain because I'd rather be overheating than alone. I consider switching on your swamp cooler but it's loud and I want to be able to hear your moans in order to remind myself that you want me too. Do you?

2
I was doing my poetry homework when I had to stop in order to write poetry.

3
I dont know if I can handle the fact that you have made playlists for other people and that is so 2018 of me. Did you make that playlist for her?

4
[redacted]

5
If panic attacks actually helped anything I wouldn't mind the hyperventilating but instead I still feel like a sink has sunk inside my chest even after I've calmed down. Wouldn't it be nice if you could cry it, release it, scream to the skies and then be okay afterwards? I'm not sure who made me believe the symptoms of my mental illness should be like a shower; I don't feel cleansed. I don't feel new. I only feel raw, exhausted. It feels more like that same dull knife is tearing me open each skin layer at a time until I figure out how to grab the hand that holds it or I'm left open on the table, whichever comes first.

6
I'm writing in order to breathe. If I can't get oxygen to my brain my fingers won't be able to move.

7
I'm so scared I'm going to lose you. I don't want you in any other way. I want to love you, hold you.

8
I hear a baby crying outside of your window and I realize I need to get up to go home and get my work clothes. I find these simple things excruciating. Writing to you is a diary but I never should have learned to open my mouth and speak.

9
I started this poem four months ago and titled it a seven day long poem but I guess now it’s more than that. You always made me feel the things I’m currently feeling, I've never given up control this much in my life. I like to be in control, the one ignoring, the one who needs the time. I wish I didn’t love you like I do (it's just, there you know. It won't go away. It's not too much or too little, it's just stubborn, just like you). I'm so scared I'm going to lose you. I don't want you in any other way. I want to love you, hold you. Did you make that playlist for her too?
Here we are again.
Lily May 2018
I remember the evening
that we sat clinging
to paper cups
of coffee gone cold

over secrets spilled and memories told
two bodies cursed
with hearts grown old

behind your eyes
I found new worlds
A winding road stretched out for miles
to a small cafe at the end of the isle

Sweet pastries filled the mouths
of those who sat beside us
and stayed for a while.

How the hours went by,
people just passing through
The descending sun ending
a forever with you.
CK Baker Feb 2018
lines cut heavy
on a button stretched brow
thick rubber shoes
and dragon canes
fill out the closet floor
gospel sounds
and narratives (drowned)
apparitions set sullenly
with voices from the past

finger pins
and crosswords
find the favor list
point men and preachers
tip up their tuscany caps
twitching and sign gazing
with spectacles held firm
recurring evening news
and beadledom views

clappers and caregivers
raise a crooked foot
grips and rockers
settle in on the front porch
gertrude grimaces
at an untimely turn
as the gooseberry pie
(with a smidgen of cloves)
chills by the night watch
Philipp K J Dec 2018
Naked pink and ebony feet
brush the slimy grass filled path
Through the tea fields elephants retreat
After a night of jaded mud bath

Armored with sack and gunny  weight
Enter the frost covered fields in drowsy rest
Wake up the greens to  a gentle fright
And pluck under care of  enchanting *******.

The supervisor mackintosh
Walking with a bend and a toss
Shout at those Cinderellas
Who look for shoes and umbrellas
Even  before its time to knock off

The tin covered temple of olfactory  auditory deity,
the holy Garden tea
The chanting enchanting to a coma hot  mesmerizing wafts of aroma
fills the air, capture the sense of all devotees who belong to the Orthodox commune TEA or CTC.
The sirens bugle the devotees into fits
They come in shifts for worship.
The tender hearts freshly plucked before they attain mature Tea
Spread to wither under a  hell
of a hot air with care.
crushed and torn and curled,
the souls are put into a purgatory rotary drum to pause to meditate
on the ephemeral color change
To cover the green with copper red
Garment to ferment  before being sent
to the fluid fire dance
To attire in black and retire
in packages
for a last plunge in to a boiling cauldron
The finale
Endgame
A sacramental service,
a self sacrifice to energize the tired souls
In cups of tea..
ryn Oct 2014
Escape pods*
Ferried fears
  Gaping heart
   Falling tears
    Dishevelled mind
     Emotional unrest
    Watered ground
    Familiar guest
   Questioned answers
  Unanswered questions
  Glassy eyes
   Increased tension
    Dissipating hope
     Chewed confidence
    Broken spirit
   Unwelcomed sentence
  Failing health
Unstable mind
Choked fingers
Flying blind
 Pathetic plea
  Stretched thin
    Battered insides
     Uncomfortable skin
      Eventual stop
       Frightful frights
        Perceived freedom
         Within sight
        Bruised being
     Absent gods
    Relying upon
   *
Escape pods
Don't ask...I don't even know...
Debbie Brindley Jul 2017
I meet a baby girl today
Who stole my heart
carried it away
All it took was to see her face
and my heart was
taken to a special place
A place filled with
love
hugs
and smiles
So much love
it stretched for miles
It's a wonderful place
where these hearts go
If your wondering how I know
Because
it's a Nana's heart
you see
And that heart filled
with so much love
Well that heart
belongs to
Me
Met my first grandbaby today. A beautiful little girl. She made my heart melt
zebra Apr 2017
i'm your o so wanna be lover
I'm afraid not what you would expect though
i admit to being a difficult pleasure
perhaps
a tad strange looking
squishy with long tentacles
half man half octopus
with a winking cycloptic eye

i entreat you
looks can be deceiving
how many pretty boys have you loved
crawling worms for a soul
that have left you a ruined creel
a jagged cry chattering tears of desolation

have you ever asked your self
who adores you
who would give all to protect love and cherish
i'm waving my eight arms at you
from the center of the universe
i eat black holes to kiss your ***
am i not a cosmic horror
with my big Cthulhu smile
quivering with tenderness

do you hunger for butter **** lollypop
i have two big **** heartbreakers
with teardrop curves
a feast for your two ravenous holes of emptiness
and many armed tentacles to hold you tight
to slither all over your tender woven caves
to pull you into me
with suckers that thrill
during swirling inky *****

i will unravel your mind
your soul tilthed
if you can get passed
my
gray rubbery boneless head

i can push this shape-shifting balloon face
through your annul tubular contours
all the way up your beautiful ***
licking
salivating
tickling into your
tender bowel and throat
like a great dancing tongue
a stretched waving goodness
entering your mouth from the back side

can pretty pretty do that?

come slowly unto me my beloved
i am all chromatophores
endless glittering nightlights
incandescent
so we may wander our way through long dim nights ******
in the deep deep dark
with tentacle ***** galore
an infinity of entertainment
for every crevice and desire
and one winking cycloptic eye
that pierces your soul
Natalie Jan 2018
I adore you
With your forward brow,
Eyes of nightshade and black treacle.
Your image floats and unfurls in the ****** spaces
Between marks posed in gazette.
You stare back at me knowingly,
Cunningly,
As though watching the course of my life unfold.
You have stretched your hand through time
To let it fall in a cold gust across these pages,
Betwixt the folds of my cerebrum,
Your spectral lips prompting faintly
In the nook behind my ear.
-O goddess, O muse!-
O fellow soul…
You have found me.
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2012
Sadness stretched across your face,
like plastic wrap on food,
suffocating and enveloping.
Still laughter seeps out through its cracks.

Tears streak down your face as you hold to my hand.
Gratefully saying goodbye,
yet wishing to hold on to glad memories.
Wishing life was easier to part.
All poems are copy written and sole property of Vicki Kralapp.
Cindra Carr Jun 2011
She’s tense tight
Locked in place with Loctite
Immovable limbs of angular lines
Ripe curves stretched wrong
Tinkling shards of glassed ice
Drop shadowed hooded eyes
Kohl rimmed cries and sighing sobs
Tense tight locked down life
Soul gripping lies slid out to fly
She’s shut off and down
Tense tight unmoving cries

cc2011
L Maughan Jul 2019
who you were I cannot say
July there golden as a burning bubble
and it gave away an evening
the exact temperature of skin
lawns stretched out to anybody
and you with a pup
while the last
of a day poured slowly
out of a dark pitcher
your kindness with him
stroked my eyes
as he rolled around your feet
in the cool grass coaxing you
to stay a little longer
you with patient pauses
and the softness in a man
that is the most seductive
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...
M Solav Sep 2018
We were mixed up when it built;
One another forced to coexist.
As it drew us high and higher still,
Below us grew the abyss.

Overflowing with ecstasy,
We left our hearts astray.
The obnubilating and obsolete
Had gotten our way.

Obstacles vanished one by one,
Increasingly slaying the beast.
Moments we thought we'd won
Are when we'd won the least.

We stretched out our hands towards the sky
Like wretched ghosts wrapped in disguise,
As though we had just found a new paradise
With the devil ahead leading as our guide.

We followed him throughout the land:
"This way leads us to the great fountain",
And now we're stuck in a desert of sand
Wondering when oases shall be attained.

We've taken a bet against our nature.
Was it anyone-in-particular's fault?
"For every curse there'll be a cure,
For every flood there'll be a drought."

Once more, again, we shall repeat,
To morrow, and for ever more.
When the sunshine now seems to greet
And when the darkness falls,

Comes that nighttime of our lives;
We ponder what we've been,
But what we're we supposed to be
When the pact was always sealed.

So we wait in such anxiety,
The impatience growing itchy;
And we amass, tall in piles,
To crash onto the shores like the sea.
Written in August 2016.
L B Aug 2016
It was the time of my Auntie Bee summers
   I was small then
   She had a parakeet that landed on my head
   and a bathtub too
   with water so deep!
   and legs and claws!
   **** thing nearly chased me down the stairs!

She lived in slumbery Windsor Locks
   where bugs hung-out in the haze
   of teenage August
   I played in the tall weeds
   with a shoeless Italian boy
   who ate tomatoes like apples
   and cucumbers right off the vine!
   He was ***** free and foreign!
   We played— reckless, abandoned
   behind the gas pump, under the tractor, in the barn   
   and through the endless fields
   I didn’t know....
   His name was Tony
   I ate pizza with him—the first time

At Auntie Bee’s I had to go to bed at eight
   but I could watch night flowers
   bloom on wallpaper
   She came in to say good night
   slippered, shadowy, night dress slightly open
   and I peeped her *******!
   like Tony’s cucumbers!
   I had never seen my mother’s wonders....

Night spread its wings from the old fan—
   a bird of tireless exhaustion
   whipped, whipped, whipped to death in its cage
   tireless exhaustion
   tic-tocking in time to a wind-up clock
   stretched out on the whine
   of the overland trucks
   Route Five through the night of an open window

In the grape arbor below—
tremulous incessant
   crickets    crickets    crickets
tremulous incessant—insides of a child
   a summer child
   not yet ready for the fall of answers

Auntie Bee had a daughter—Maureen
   I followed her everywhere I could
   I was small then--    
   do anything for a stick of Juicy Fruit
I followed Maureen through my dreams
   of being sixteen
   and woke to Peggy’s “Fever”
   while she tied her sneakers
   against the mattress by my head

I followed Maureen (in my mind)
   tanned and bandanned
   to work in the fields of shade tobacco
   with all those Puerto Rican boys!
   She knew where she was going!

I was small then
...do anything for a stick of  gum

“Mauney! Mauney! Mauney!”
   ...through the goldenrod of roadside
   through the smell of oil that damped the dust    
I followed Maureen’s white shorts
   and chestnut hair...to the corner store
I followed the way the boys smiled
   the way the screen door slammed
   on her bright behind
   the way her lips taunted and took
   the coke-bottle’s green
I followed Maureen

I swear, I tried for hours to get that right!

Must have been Peggy Lee’s “Fever”

Maureen ties her sneakers in my face
Flaunts her years above my head
She has that look—
“We kids don’t know nothin”
(Little turds” that we be)

…followin’ Maureen
through the goldenrod of roadside
tic-tockin’, beboppin’

“Fever— in the morning
Fever all through the night….”
Peggy Lee's Fever:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b4hXyALR9vI
I was seven years old and did I ever get this!
Peggy Lee's stripped down performance is the epitome of ***.

Windsor Locks is in Connecticut.
Nico Julleza Jul 2017
Long Journey,
yet it was never too late
to crest the memories of yesterdays

A voyage that was finished before
and here I am gazing beyond
through oriel windows once more

An ocean wide stretched from afar
with a quill and vellum on my hand
I wrote these words and understand

life was never easy reaching its core
self must refine from silver to gold
dreams red as velvet, white as snow

Pure as the heart of every little boy
molded from a mother’s fervent love
brave, a father’s heritage in honor of

Blessed by the gift of God up above
toiling day and night from my storm
He never left me lonely, till all is won

I gazed back to the oceans and saw,

Someone familiar...

Could it be…

Land A Home,
it was a moment of spring
I step the shore, my heart felt its beat

And Lo, my guardians caress on thee
for there is no sweeter victory
than the ones who truly loved me
#Family #Guardians #Ocean #Nature #Life #Love #God

Have A Blessed Sunday
God bless you Poets
There is no Place to feel Victory... But in Home

(NCJ)POETRYProductions. ©2017
beth stclair May 2015
like a stone you fell, stars on your lips,
out of the dark, like a bird carrying the sky.

i stretched towards you my soul singing
of meadow grasses and old ruins.

everything you touched became a flame,
joy burnt like a fever beneath your wings.

i ran to you, shadows drawing back
the night like a curtain.

oh, the echoes of a pounding heart, across hills,
across continents, you strided on the wind

until the sea shook out its sheets
and the leaf shivered on the branch.

the night settled its layers of black
into dark forests, rested against the glassy tide

and you were gone, you were gone,
lost to hair more fragrant than mine.
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/and-then-i-returned-to-you-you-my-poet-of-the-water-beth-st-clair/1115678228?ean=29400165

from my book
Jayn Doe Feb 2019
Darling, you are so pure

and it seems like I lie through my teeth
more than I grind them in my sleep

because
I simply don't

want
you
to
know

that I am nothing more than skin stretched over cracking bones.
Kevin J Taylor Jul 2017
I was walking down the road
Just as happy as can be
And all the leaves upon the trees
Were waving back at me

I saw a curly snail
As he stretched to greet his day
Then headed down the road with me
Then stopped to stretch again

I saw a pretty sparrow
She was perched upon a wire
She sang a song—I sang along
We made a lovely choir

The snail conducted from a twig—
Just so, our song began
“Happy Birthday to You!”
Did you hear us as we sang?

We had a happy party
As we danced around—We three!
And we wished you Happy Birthday!
Just as HAPPY as can be!
.
Not all poems survive. I've lost a few and let others go. My current collection of poems is available on Kindle and in paperback. It is called "3201 e's" (that is approximately how many e's are in the manuscript which is a very unpoetic title but a reflection on the creation of poetry by common means.)
Spenser Bennett Jun 2016
On the bank of an endless river
There is no money to be saved
All the waste of life is washed and clean
Presented to the future still dripping
And you are waiting there for me
And I am waiting here for you
On the bank of an endless river
There is no change to be sought
All the days meld to nights sewn seamless and neat
Stretched taught over the space between birth and death
Where you are waiting for me
And I am waiting for you
On the bank of an endless river
ryn Apr 2015
As the violet of day
draws to a close...          
Witnessed the dwindling
vermillion sun,             
being swallowed  
by the horizon.
Ever so slowly,
       seconds stretched...
      This moment here...
Captured...      
and                
froze.        

    Brushing off
the indigos  
  and                
blues.          
of the past,
            Whilst I shed these
scarlet tears.
Burdened with
              unfounded speculation
and fears.        
Gifted the        
lease of bravery
but I know...        
it wouldn't last.      

A final skirmish            
between                          
night and light.            
My crimson wings    
spread to greet the.        
green evening air.            
Feather and wind.            
spoke to each other;      
quivered as if              
the same story        
they shared.          
A conversation    
              that ended quickly before
both took              
flight.                        

To the                        
highest heavens,
leaving a          
trail of leaves
from days of
yellow...        
  Flying past the
                 blushing orange cheeks
  of                        
sleeping clouds.
             Evading the beckoning
of                      
    night's curtains
and            
shrouds.  
    Into the sun,
I would go.
                Beyond world's end,
           I would follow...

To find you
                  where the universe
                      would run its course.
                      I'd gladly soar through
       spectrum's grain,
Through        
      unfamiliar realms
and                  
              warped new planes.

Why?          

Because      
blood red  
rubies          
pump            
through mine
and                
garnets          
flow              
      through yours...
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