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LearnfromBOBD Feb 10
You don’t care
If i hold yo hands in public

You don’t want friends
to know you are dating me

You don’t want me to do some nasty and naughty things

You love me but you are doubting it

You are jealous, but you don’t check on me.

Jealousy is sacrifice but you don’t know that yet.

You only marvel when I surprised you
And you will hug me and say ‘seem I love you Ola!

My unadulterated woman
King Panda Feb 2016
I know the flowers better everyday
their twisting stems
their curtain petals
their floating spice

I know the flowers better everyday
their capillary roots
their plum faces
their purple stamens

I know the flowers better everyday
their shaking seeds
their modest thorns
their unabashed lust for the sun

I know the flowers better everyday
I know the sun will rise
I know the clouds will rain
I know my daughter will laugh

I know the flowers better everyday
I’ll draw a fence for flowers
I’ll draw a muzzle for the sheep
I’ll draw a number for the man to crunch

I know the flowers better everyday
I know how lovely it is to feel
grass in between toes
the breath of a boa
the embrace of home

I know the flowers better everyday
I am forty
I am a mother
I love fearlessly
Inspired by *The Little Prince*
Bryce Dec 2018
I, naive

I believed that the break in the clouds
Was the end of rain

Thought those rays of sun weren't burning

I was lying
Myself in the grass,
Asking if the tulip chutes in Anatolia
Were the same sinking green I feel now

Where were we?
Love for a thousand spaces and bottling them into skins
Wanted to touch and know deeply all beautiful things

No you're not allowed, they don't want to let you in
That way, it's a distant place and means too much to understand
The biological and irrational
Crazed, sweeps gregarity above and within an aether-- like milky foam upon the waves

When I return home from excursions
I will be Ipanema
The soft locale, unabashed and known to no soul
Except empty elevators--

The lowly philosopher-king

Maybe then you'll think highly of me
Through the mixed feelings
Unable to handle
Straight through the socket
Ring of fire
Then and only then will you realize
That real life

Is more than just a zone or some local
Brewery on a Friday night

And every other Friday night

Ever thereafter--
You'll unlock the box of atomic intention
And listen deeply to her on the station
"Sade and Other Like Hits"

Slowed down for full potential

Letting your cochlea stroke themselves off to the tune of the universe
And the sound of air moving indiscriminately
Will give you
All this


Somewhere
almost fractal, imbibed
Decimated repetitively
There is a fragment of my voice,
Calling

"Love, how much I'd love to be. "
RCraig David Apr 2013
From my "Bestifreadaloud" series about a girl that got away that Spring because I waited too long.

Part 1 The Past
A case made now faded of a simple place, a time, a space,
a perfect moment let pass in haste.
Clasped in clashes,
brash in passion,
rose from ashes,
desire fires every second's essence as it passes,
a ton amasses.
Fast bloom,
Blast!! Boom!!
The past relapses.
Notably lesser song notes float hopeful, emotional ends and remember whens.
Sent us spinning, then spin adrift again.
Sprung in spring, we fell,
Some are reasons to recall.
Summer's season breaks, we fall.
Flocks fly down and fallen callings fade to Winter's south.
How fate related still debated.
Re-Sprung the next Spring' rise, chance misses fate this date.
I weighed and debated and waited too late

PART 2
Still all these years alone, the "one", the "purpose" unsought.
Capturing thoughts,
The ones I caught and tossed,
Things I was taught and lost.
Proof framed and embossed for a cost.
Coping through the unabashed hopes to one day cash in on all this stashed trash I clash with.
"Smash it?" ...the thought crossed.  

Unimpressed by my evidence of self-less requests,
pursuit of self-evident truth proves a most ruthless abuse.
Even less are my skewed protests for “selfish quests" at the behest of the very strangers I sought to impress.
I digress.

The years compound, bossed around, kicked down but soundly employed,
I turn cold, blaming Freud for defining my non-violent, intolerance threshold on page 23 of some textbook I should have resold.
I go silent. Grow old.
"While your whining and shunning your shinning,
They're sinning and winning." Bad timing.

Girls come, go and follow this shallow, hollow fellow on the run.
While preyed upon...I paid a ton. I play.
The sum never more than the cost of rented fun.
Without insight but consent forthright,
my 30 years of intent were spent in a fortnight.
Still bent on shedding every pound of one first-moment's ton I lost not won.
Can't buy happy for less than the cost of your one-ness.
While prayed upon...paid a Son, they say.

part 3

Ohh the wait....
Ohh the weight...
My set-adrift-soul's mending depends solely on tossing
lost cause cost-spending into thrift.
Well it's a beginning.
All the amassed notes, quotes, boat-floaters,
and sailboat hopes spun in one 1-ton loss moment sprung that one Spring.

Now and again, it creeps in,
like slowly growing stinging nettles around a squelched,
once steaming scorched dream kettle.
Still stays packed away in my heart's darkest parts.
Blurred by time and place,
this burning, misplaced furnace space lays in wait.

Such compiled cold-case denial files from other life trials, lay piled in haste on my proverbial, "less pressing" messy desk of "not ready to face."
Too scared or daring to date, try to relate or contemplate
how to best equate this great weight.
Wait?... Wait.
Elation brewing from pursuing future fruition or ensuing
pure ruin gates these fates from moving, year-to-date.
For the sake of trying or dying forsaken,
another day awake is another day gained or taken.

I found her again,
the town's she's in
but she is taken and then
She learns of my wait, it's weight, my fate, she's shaken,
another ton amasses again. I pretend.
Lay down.
Drown the score of sounds surrounding.
Furthermore, slow the pulse-pounding abounding your core.
Fill your breath.
What is less is gone, tomorrow more.  

by R. Craig David-Copyright 2012
Johnsdavidburg Aug 2018
let go of your hatreds
never look back in anger

forgive all the world, forget all the pains
but remember, every one of their names
and learn,
from every single mistake

to let go of your hatreds
to grow unabashed

without judgment,

into a better person
from what you are today
into a better world
before you leave tomorrow

regardless
Mind Da Hed Apr 20
Suddenly, you leave just like that
No patting to the heart
The art of straying away
play the peakest when you are unaware

The best part
Oh you are my best part
maybe from the start but I'm playing hard to realise
so I fight so bad to had you

You're being loved
in my imagination
You lit the poetic version of me
Oceans of being free
until you flee very far.

Those days are infatuation,
unabashed awakening of my courage
Yes, those petty things I call it courage
to message love that chirps when you say anything.
Funny enough,
just anything

And that's how the first day of not having you slashes pages of being strangers,
alienating more than I feel to myself and this world.

I will remember those flickering eyes
Your teasing smiles
aligned with tender awkwardness,
my personal poet between blinking eyes.

Good very bye

Suddenly, you leave just like that.
Like how the Prophet says
Your name same as the author
says that I have the broken wings.
Melody W Aug 19
The distance became immeasurable;
I've grown too accustomed to the flux -
flitting from one while longing for the other

Mother - the first separation of many as the evening comes -
refuses the word 'goodbye', so unwelcome in her native tongue
and yet she has tasted grief unspoken more times than not.

She stands in her garden, beckoning for me to stay an hour
Unabashed in her dizzying eagerness for me to wait and see
night-blooming cereus - their blooms as rare as
dwindling shows of affection
and already my eyes are on the far gate,
scornfully expressing my desire to come home to you

She shrinks, and I leave without a backward glance.

When I arrive home, a familiar silence greets me;
you've already completed your day and don't look up as I walk in,
so entranced are you by the alluring stimulation of the screen

I retreat to empty rooms, finding solace in the cold.
Cherished, I had not realized what I'd lost
by hastily choosing what ought to have been my joy complete.

Cast aside now, broken by expectations yet again,
my mind wanders to my lost family,
who cling to the precious moments, always present

And allow myself to recall my mother's puffy eyelids,
another anniversary the next day that won't be celebrated,
another somber witness to the night-blooming cereus - alone again.
©MW
Excitedly I say once,
"if Love were a substance,
if only more than
some sort of word, more concrete”
“If only”

If rather than heard
in song made wispy or absurd,
instead made bold
in your face
apparent
A freak-show, cirque du taste
such theatrics (once)
those lips—film noir of your thrilling face.

Undeniable you
unabashed like a growth
to the left
a mole on your kind skin
red lipstick puckering miss Monroe
eyes that ooze dreamy

How I always noticed you, once
saying "Ooh look here, this is love"
pointing to that dot,
but i know love is more than
a tiny tiny blemish
(or Marilyn's coy mole).

Like how once, a beauty marked me
with what was quick-draw and newly raw,
touching with much whirling
such were we
openly exposed to...

So wretchedly loud
made so astute
where we partook,
briefly donning heaven in our looks.
hold on to my arms - keep a grip,
Hold on
i say to what was once

Love, heavy as when you
Were letting go,
caustic as your doubts, when
i remember saying then

"look here -- once, this was love"
now just a gesture
where stood my shadow
as I regret
not informing you : "should of
kept your eyes open
during the fall
should of kept honest is all..."

If only love to you
was of some real substance,
beyond misty hours or
something like
the prose of rain to heartache
empty like open doorways of us before
because
once is now
no more.
(Repost Revised)
Cedric McClester Aug 2018
By: Cedric McClester

Let’s call it
The three fifths of a man sequel
Apparently, all of us
Are not considered equal
What we’re experiencing
Just doesn’t speak well
For us as people
We’re drowning in *****

Don’t point your finger
Thinking it’s just him
When we have the choice
To either sink or swim
If we remain silent
What’s the pseudonym?
Perhaps it’s compliant
If nothing else then

We allow children
To be placed in cages
And applaud as the President
Frequently stages
Rallies everywhere
As he engages
Like minded people
From the dark ages

And let us not
Forget Charlottesville
Though some us might
Others never will
That’s where unabashed racists
Scored a ****
And he said
There was some good in them still














Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2018.  All rights reserved.
Yenson Apr 2
Don't talk to me about rules of Engagement
What's knowledge, wisdom and Truth
nothing but a tag on a Robert Grahame shirt
What do you mean decency, fair-play and Justice
was your God fair and just when he landed me in Goebbels
and give me to that drunkard thief and his street gal wife
Oh no, I don't deserve a silver spoon and a dad in Stockbroker belt
yeh, no Private School, no allowance, no frigging ski trips in Gstaad
Bollinger sounds like a gun, pink gins and cucumber wedges foreign

Don't talk living harmoniously with all classes and races
I live my way and make my rules as I go along
the first law is do it to them before they do it to you
education is ****, if God wanted me to have a mind he forgot
what he gave was a gob full of **** and a Doctorate in telling lies
in our world telling the truth means you're blind, slow and stupid
I ain't a mug but a mugger, I ain't a fool,I only live to fool the fools
Am a hater and proud of it, why was I assigned to the Losers section
What made God decide my gob is not good enough for a Silver spoon

Don't you dare give me that glib 'That's Life' ****'
keep your philosophizing to your bleeding self
we ain't buying claptrap anymore, it's war now, revolution
it's them and Us. no quarter given, everything taking from the rich
what gives you the right to live better than me. Mr High an Mighty
who brooker your deal with God for all the privileges you enjoy
swanning around thinking you're better than me in your Ivory gaff
hate burns relentlessly, my frustration unabashed I join satan's lot
Yes, it's not a frigging fair world so don't talk to about Justice an love
Alex Gomez Nov 10
Intimacy's purest form, untarnished by silence.
Humming hearts in perfect synchronization
Manifesting symphonies, unabashed by conscience.

Souls unable to, left uncherished,
Consigned to a deaf roaring fire.
For god so loved his only self, that he let the world perish.
Anthony Elias Oct 2018
I thought I was fine, but then I remembered your pretty face

There it is

It flickered through my mind so sharply
Painfully vivid

Before I knew it I was on the floor
So here I am, once again
I lay there helplessly, with only a heavy heart to spare

****

It is on these same floors that your feet once walked
These floors helped you run into my arms, over and over again - a thousand times over

Your feet graced these floors in the early mornings
Quietly tiptoeing through the kitchen to make us coffee, grabbing my hand and bringing me in for a kiss
Your feet graced these floors in the late evenings too
I can see it now - a glass of white in hand, and that light-wash jean jacket I loved you in

You danced around me in those shoes I liked, you walked towards me and pressed your body against me, I pulled you in closer
Your head nestled in my neck, I felt your heart beat next to mine as we swayed to the music

It is with you and in these moments that I knew love

It was on these now hardened, frigid, hardwood floors that your feet used to walk with mine In tandem, in unison

We walked so confidently, so lovingly; so bold & unabashed

This home was ours, and we waltzed on these floors with earnest hearts and open minds Always inching closer towards a love so big it couldn’t possibly break

And then, without warning, you broke it and you took it all with you
You ******* took me too
And now I am nowhere to be found
I am not in my body - where am I?
I am not in anyone else, not in the arms of another lover - where am I? I can’t find me anywhere

Where am I?

I am here, again, on these floors, lifeless and limp
This house doesn’t belong to you anymore

****, it doesn’t even belong to me

It belongs to these floors and they’ve paralyzed me, chained me down
They force me to stare right at the spot where your feet once stood ground and your eyes stared back at me with love and light

I lay here on these floors with no shadow, no imprint
I am simply a silhouette of my former self
Of when I stared back at you with unreserved love and hope Knowing you felt that same love

But now I lay here on these floors
Unidentifiable, unrecognizable, quiet & cold
My body belongs to these floors, but I am nowhere to be found

Where did I go?
Rambled and shaggy with unkempt features
Dwell the remnants of days gone by
Glorious carriages of red and gold
Litter the fields generously
Unabashed and unwanted
Derided and hated
Cursed in words and scolded by tongue
They stand upright and fight as one
Man for man woman for woman
Protecting what is theirs and what shelters them
By means of trouble or rubble
Trees or fire
Nothing will ever prevail
They are one and one is them
Death will keep them apart
I'm awake and aware
But at this hour it's only fair
To assume that we are crazy
Love is waiting in our apartment complexes
Sinister judges take your collateral
And watch you fall down without their council
Pounds of chocolate offered to the gods
As if we should be honored by their presence
The heat and steam rose from the ashes
And you were naked and unabashed
Money never gave you anything for good
Those streets were composites of our memories
And real neighborhoods are deserted like cemeteries
You swaddle the baby in ceremonial blankets
And remove the furniture from your living rooms
Return to movement innocent like a child
We are wild like the buffalo, in summer's heat
Grown men fall to their knees and beg you for your beauty
We have grown our healing herbs in buckets
And lost our minds in raging rivers
And gathered colorful flowers in vibrant fields
Amidst the most luxurious company of equals
faith Aug 22
i’ve been hearing voices again so i’m just
staying high to drown out the voices
so many choices have led me to where i am
and i don’t think it makes sense that such a fragile, sensitive me could be born from unabashed passion
assuming
my heart aches all the time for the smell of my momma
one more time
cigarettes and cherry blossoms and all
i wish i could soar higher and higher until
the glue securing the feathers of my wings melted
and i plummeted to the earth getting to you
i found my biological dad and family from that side
he’s been passed away for a long time
biologically an orphan
but a psychic told me my dad always protects me and watches over me, there is a squash blossom necklace he wishes me to have
physically i will be just fine, self harm is not seriously physically threatening
i don’t want to die really after all
my mind is the problem
i just need the voices to make sense
and they’re not, and that’s making me scared
what is this life trying to teach me?
what about this life determines my next life?
everything
and i never wish to have these scars fade, present life and/if afterlife
every single **** and line
means something
reminds me
i am fragile; but, evidently, i’m still breathing
that has to account for something
yeah?
8 - 22 - 19

— The End —