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In impulsive scenes, in adjacent moments
when eyes are locked and hearts are ardent
then passion strikes, a threat is posed
the lover's heart becomes opposed

astounded by the wondrous fact
Affections - real, just so intact!
a brilliant pause; the story alters

the lover finds love the moment he stutters.
O' heart, reveal thy secrets
Poetria May 21
sunday chocolate, lion flowers
kisses on cheeks, kisses on cheeks
gentle tears that hug a face
largely incomplete. this isn't the whole poem, not the whole picture either, this is a piece of a piece of something huge, and i surprised myself by crying as i wrote it. the rest of the poem will exist when it's ready to. i'll come back to this. i have to. but for now, this thing needs to exist as it is. this is just the beginning.
D A W N May 2018
i remember the way your hair shined through the sunny day
studying the way your eyes flutter every time you stutter
the words you cant say
i remember how pleasing your voice was beneath my ears
i remember being with you
washed away my fears
do you remember the days where we used to lay in the shade?
forming figures in the clouds
having long conversations for hours
nights where we stayed up late
getting into stupid debates about who's right or wrong,
picking out the right song to play over and over again.
remember how we fought over stupid stuff?
and even though times get rough, we'd just laugh it all up
do you remember when we met in September?
in english class where the hours didn't last
and that's where it happened so fast
creating memories that we thought would remain
but all we created
was pain
and that was the last day i saw you.
sitting on the bench
with another girl
my heart clenched
cheeks tear-drenched
my pride craving for revenge.
listen darling,
i just want you to remember
from the beginning of september
remember the long-lasting splendor
the last moments of us being together
because i remembered
and dare i keep it in my heart forever.
first poem i wrote way back 2016
Heart flutters
Mind stutters the words
that I want to mutter
Another chance, perhaps
another

Your presence
Completes my puzzle of life
Makes me feel like
a picture whole, rather than
a piece of society’s
ever-changing mural

We intertwine
Grapes of love and hate
on emotional vines
Relishing these fleeting
moments
one day at a time

Your presence
Completes my
mysterious existence
Makes me feel like
a human empowered,
rather than
another person going
thru the motions of life



Melody
3/7/19
Love is profound.
Cindra Carr Jul 2011
She broke my heart again
It failed as she skipped out of reach
It’s okay
Little things can go unnoticed
How big can a heart really be?
She gave it a kick as she stumbled over it
That paled in comparison when she stepped on it
I gift wrapped my heart
I even sang a little tune as I tied the bow
She had that look though
A little moue of surprise and a stutter
My heart dropped and I leaned back
Bracing myself always feels like it should help
But, then she broke it
Kicked it
Stepped on it
Scuffed it for sure
It got a little blurry
I knew as soon as she said
“We can still be friends right?”

cc062911
Autumn moves fast through the tunnel of love
Push from the top; bottom falls from above
Dangling leaves are flexing about
Dreaming of hope is a nightmarish shout

Cackle of ghouls; a shivering spine
All that is due will be due in due time
Whispering wind softly kisses my cheek
Lifetime of searching; know not what I seek

Darkness emerges as light fades away
Tried to hold on knowing no one can stay
Feeling alive only once I am dead
Listen but don't hear a word that is said

Roar of a flame, the warmth of the light
Fireball streaks interrupting the night
From the ashes we rose and to dust we return
Heart made of ice will not sooth what’s been burned

Holding my breath and not rising for air
Promise to no one the nothing I share
Hugging and squeezing a cuddly toy
Faded reminder when I was a boy

Roar of a racing car traveling fast
Linear stories that live in the past
Afternoon stroll through the paths in the woods
Wasn't enough when it’s all that I could

Didn't regret not regretting a thing
Perfectly still while I sit on the swing
Lazy and careless; the problem I tackle
Chained here forever without any shackles

Future and past presently now amuck
Free man who's also imprisoned and stuck
Roaring, the waves speaking softly to me
Shouting a message using secrecy

Cackling rooster call to end the day
Adult you become but your parents can't stay
Ending's begun and beginning ends near
Enveloped in fog; then it all became clear

Through stutter and stammer, I clearly can speak
World’s strongest man; I am fearful and weak
Worldly observer, I travel through life
Don't leave my house; Live alone with no wife

Peacock with confidence strutting my stuff
Have had my fill but not yet had enough
Nothing I fear but much fear have for it
Blowing out candles that never were lit

Bellowing cheers of "hip-hip hooray!"
Round of applauds for those who've died today
Subtle of strikes from a blatant attack
Gift you are given; already took back

Slapped with audacity right in the face
Composed with the utmost politeness and grace
Then without allergy, still my body reacts
Calmly I sit through a panic attack

Telling a lie until it becomes truth
Speaking with stature his words are uncouth
Deafening silence rang shots from the gun
Finished a race that has not yet begun

"Rule" one time "Golden", now covered in rust
Did what was needed but not what I must
You can be anything but yet nothing you are
Traveling often but didn't go far

Properly set for no expectations
Biased perception began at creation
Feet on the ground and head in the clouds
On display while naked and exposed in my shroud
Written - April 6, 2017

All rights reserved.
Logan Robertson Jul 2018
A black crow's darting eyes
spans the wheat field
and an orange pumpkin patch.
She sees
tall grasses of brown
seedlings,
bristling in the wind,
soon to be bushels of grain
and a pumpkin pie that she never savored.
She sits, atop her tree perch,
at times warm and storybook,
hidden by tree branches,
and at times out of harm's way
and infamy.
Her friends, the sun, and clouds in concert,
dancing along.
Her other friends bring alms and smiles.
Life is so good at times.
Down the road sits a mill
next to a waterfall
and a cabin,
with reindeer horns
hanging above the doorway.
She is in her element, happy,
carrying for her nestlings.
Back and forth her parental eyes dart
the hilly fields, a smoked filled chimney, and her babies,
all crawling with sustenance and awe.
Storybook.
A mother feeding a worm to her baby.
Storybook.
Off to her side is not a blind eye
watching her,
scary stick figures of
straw tucked under red shirts and hats,
with a tied tinfoil strips dotting
her eyes and tease.
Scarecrows, cease.
At times life is good nature, hand in hand,
knock on wood.
If only life could be circumspect.
Than darkness filling the light
and a stutter of life.
For a sad page is turned,
pause
... tears.
Then, feathers fall.
Hers.
The sound of a thud.
Silence and tears of her friend's swelling.
A baby's cry, missing her mother.
More orphaned tears.
Who would be this despicable?
On that rogue day.
A kick of a donkey,
an ***,
one bad rock on her path,
breaks the air,
as three little elementary kids were walking along
to school.
One, me, with a rock in his hand,
taking aim at her perch
and the death of the black crow's pages.
I confess.
... Bless me, Father, for I have sinned
it has been fifty years since
my last confession ...
a Tom Sawyer-like childhood gone worse.
I repent.
Some fifty years later I think of those first cairns,
including stealing the reindeer horns and milling
my brother and sister's storybook.
Waterfalls
stream tears, and a sorry boat
rowed downstream
sadly
thereafter.

Logan Robertson

7/25/2018
Ah.. Ah.. Aaron, I said my name,
Least did I expect that this stutter pushed me to shame;
Alalia syllabaris is a defect,
Still worthy enough for a prefect.

That darned laugh, that lost contact,
Shatters all of ‘em within..
‘Tip of the iceberg’ do we show,
The inner lies within; so little you know.

Parodying this isn’t funny, that interludes,
That seriously hurts dudes.

Stop that mock, bear our shock
Let me see how do you fare,
Mark my words because that’s a dare.
Alaia syllabaris which is a syndrome which affects the fluency of your speaking.
That's the same stuff with me.
I was gone through mocks.
Read a bit of my blabbers..
M-E Jan 27
Screamings is all the order
I can hear
Enclosed in my brain
And launched out, through my mouth

r  a  m  b  l  i  n  g  s  .

Facing the mirrors
When I SHOUT and CUSS
And crisscross thoughts
I weaken and frail
Get off the rails
Expressing what I want to say
In front of you
Because I am a speaker
Without a lisp
Without a stutter
Just Screams and Mutters
Without any speaking difficulties
Because I am..Simply
A HUMAN.
Don't ask me how I was inspired to write this poem. Lol
27/01/2019
Venus in Scorpio May 2018
She tears apart my world
I stutter when I speak
My heart flutters when it beats
If every man has the thing that makes him weak
Mine is her sweet graceful stride
I have to hide
Yet fireworks are going off in the distance
I fear I’m missing out on her
Never to share a sentiment
Instead, I pretended
I’m uninterested
Jeni Jan 2016
Standing still
Breath uneven
Gaze slipping down the snowy tracks
I watch
exasperated as you stutter
reasons
You can't
like the way
the slush clings
to my heart
unwilling to stop
Skiing,
I glance around at the beautiful
You
Breath uneven
You're laughing
Over me
The altitude,
And I can't think of anything else
Clouds gathering
The future
And I'm confused
As the rain melts down me
Breath uneven
My body
One great icicle
You see
Breath uneven
I'm crying
Snow dances
Weaving frozen tears
Together
Breath uneven
Blizzard
We can't find
The way back
to where
We began
But there's no forgetting
the journey
Here
I'm lost but found
Breath uneven
As your eyes
Tell me
Everything.
Haven't written in awhile, but this just came about.
Ozioma Ogbaji Apr 2015
In the morning, old becomes new
Birds sing as black slowly turns blue
In the morning, my fears are taken
My faith is stronger, I am not shaken

My fears are taken by morning's rebirth
Fresh as the dew clinging to my feet
In the morning, there is a new me to meet
Whom the blinding night has deemed fit to birth

In the morning, my flaws are still the same
Like the yellow sun, everyday like flame
In the morning, I remember yesterday's mistakes
And I know better what is at stake

In the morning, I let go of the night
I let go of the dark, I embrace the light
In the morning, my eyes are brighter
My dance is better, my laugh is lighter

My smile is warmer, my kiss is softer
My hug is tighter, my speech has no stutter
In the morning, I am all I want to be
Awake, refreshed, hopeful, free
Jordan Barrie Sep 2015
Boundless energy around us,
Stretched to snare the senses.
Shaped and bound to our life-force.
No barriers, or defenses.
Limitless interplay, front
row seats shall we say.
To astounding cosmic displays.
Consider what a day holds;~
Glimpses of magnificence
In the eyes of the beholder,
Fear not insignificance.
Take grip of your awareness
Exchanging energy,
Is inherent in us.
Throw a love curve ball. . .
Await your reciprocating shower.
those stars, they fall
forever.
They deal not in glamour.
Casually causing us
humans to stutter and mumble.
Let not, your heart labor,
Loves home-run rests
Patiently,
On your minds table.
Prana for everything,
This **** ain't no fable.
Sam Hawkins Jul 2013
This hand which moves and rides some voice is not mine.
I have given it over to you, young boy.

This is what makes it fly so, traveling out,
tripping along in dance of shape and sound.

I acknowledge your presence in this fashion.

You tell me by messages,
beaming out the back of your head,
you are the very boy who has waited an eternity
at some upper railing.

You sit and peer through the spaces,
down the twisted stair.

Your hands, they grip the vertical rail.
Silent. Silent. Waiting you.

Let this right hand of mine be your secret voice.
Let this scrawl and scratch be your gravelly tongue—
ick-nicking, ga-chooing, click and stutter.

What language may I shape for our sake?
With you, may I follow, setting trail markers just so.

Will others come mistaking their ways for yours?

My hand is opening and opens wide.
I remember you. I am returning.
Let it be.
Logan Robertson May 2017
Voices In His Head

backwoods of his mind
birds and bees stutter blossoms
seeds of apathy grow

a lone dwarf rabbit
burrows under a bonsai
trunk's a beaten path

waterfalls to nowhere
life's knotted of shallow pools
voice ... go to deep end

Logan Robertson

5/20/17
Emily Miranda Apr 25
his name makes my heart flutter
talking to him makes me stutter
his cologne scent drives me crazy
with him my thoughts get hazy
is this love?
do you see any doves?
then reality hits
and me and him do not fit
were to different
to worlds never to be touched
to souls never to love
but for now... reality is gone
and me thinking of you isn't so wrong
for now let me dream
and imagine us together, the perfect team
his name makes me smile uncontrollably
his name makes me laugh
his name makes me blush
but his name... is just another name...
Andrew Guzaldo c Oct 2018
“Solidity of my heart is ever repeating,
Yet yearning for things I'll never know,
The heat of the earth upon my feelings,
The zeal of the flurry gusts upon my dermis,

In the beauty of sunlight falling on water ways,
As you can feel the warmth of the sun as I have,
I’ve confronted my life’s crusades before this melody,
Oh yes yours be a simple cup of water for a diverse life,

It is the brine of the ocean that makes me crave more,
Tears that make my ever repeating heart stutter,    
Tear drops warm as the flurry gusts upon my dermis,
Tears abhor the interior sole destruction of my soul,
        
Tears hasten down my cheeks like rivers,
Tears now smell and taste like the salt of sea brine,
As it leaves a taste of red fervor within my heart?
There will always be peace now way in my soul,

Tears sooth me like my feet upon brine sand stone
As I walk this journey I may stumble and fall,
For that infinite one that has left me now all alone,
I shall ever be fulfilled now in my melody of tears”
By Andrew Guzaldo 10/10/2018 ©
By Andrew Guzaldo 10/10/2018 ©   #Poem # 130 HP
Noor Jun 2018
I'm just a stopover
For you to relax in
You read your book on the train
You hear the songs of longing
Overlooking the window

I'm just a stopover
On your long journey
You put your head on my chest
And your head is full of her
You take my heart, and your heart is hers

I'm just a stopover
Just a passing song
That you forget the words to
You stutter my name, and call me by hers

I planted a garden
Filled with love
But you gave it back
And turned to a single rose
She gave to you
She, whom you want
She, who does not want you
You run after her like a stray dog
Begging for affection
Happy for a piece of bread that she gives to you
Waiting for a word from her
And ignoring the songs I wrote for you

I'm just a stopover
She is your stray road
Your final destination
A deserted city
And there you are,
On the ruins crying
The house I built for you is abandoned
My poor heart is abandoned
Which burns when I see your eyes when you look at her
When I see you are still hugging her clothes
I remained silent
As I have sworn not to talk
I swore not to mention her
I swore that I’ll bite my tongue, swallow my pride and my fear
And you swore to yourself
That you will always be hers
Even if she’s not yours
Even if I gave you all of me.
carminayasmin Apr 2018
As if I’m going to wash my sins,
by finding a substance so viscous - to annihilate the acid
that seeps through me.

Perhaps it’s you refilling my first glass,
which is dried up by 11,
and replenished by 5 past.

Must I keep forcing it down my refusing gut,
so I can bare the stutter drooling,
crumbling, out your teeth.

Till I’ve sipped needlessly on your lies
and fell drunken on your delusional fables.

Now I’m slurring in my nights,
awoke, still high on your acid.
Eyes are bulging, bloodshot
from you firing bullets of your decaying  burden.

-

As I walk I stumble,
diverging around solum streets.
Crows peck at my skin, to prompt me at sunrise.

Now and again I revisit
the morsels I had collected from the bottom of your chalice.
Savouring as I gulp down my regret.
Desperately urging to be hungover your reveries
one last time.
11 April, 00:31
I’m preparing myself for it all one day
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