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September Roses Jul 2018
As the sun slowly sets
The precursor to the week
With deadlines,
                            ­               Oh so bleak
The calm before the storm
  Too restless to enjoy
For everybody knows
     It's sunday's melancholy ploy

    Responsibilities loom overhead
     Our heart as heavy as the air
      The world has now gone silent
              We sit in subtle fear
Chrissy Ade Aug 2018
On Monday we met, our eyes fixated on one another, eager to know more
On Tuesday we talked, twiddling our thumbs, fidgeting in our seats, pondering on the right things to say
On Wednesday we hugged, your arms held me close, heartbeats in sync, I felt myself floating
On Thursday we kissed, our lips gravitated towards each other, like the moon and the sea, the connection was natural
On Friday we confessed, three little words wrapped around our ears,
forever tattooed in our minds
On Saturday you disappeared, no note, no call, no text
not a trace of you left that I could still hold on to
On Sunday I cried, my heart still beats, but never the same way,
would you ever give me a reason if I ever asked "Why?"
Just a cheeky poem about first love... :P
Constructive  Criticism and feedback is welcomed and appreciated :)
AD Mullin Sep 2014
First we account:
8 days per ...

12 hours a day
52 weeks a year
2 years
~10,000 hours = ~10,000 maniacs

Then we re-count:
On a stage in Hamburg, we perfect our Kraftwerks
Was where the NitrogenFixers teeth were cut
And Gladwell summarizes that perfection comes from continually piling small tasks upon each other
One after another
Creating a mountain of perfection

For the Nitrogen Fixers ...
Their pebbles came in +/- 3 minute soundbytes
Their mountains were named:
Abbey Road and White Album, among others

Then we implore:
Go find your Hamburg, I implore you
What about Blink?
What about Raven?

Then we explore:
A fractal inside of a labrynth wrapped up inside a piece of capicoli:

What did Lucy say about diamonds?

From Incarnate
by Juleta Severson-Baker
Raven Song*

"Though it is wrong
this will be my call to you
full throat
wings like a shell

I will pull you
through forbidden air to me
by this call

come to me
through the wrong and dark
I have sung my part
now come*"
Written with work boots on

Broadcast from The One
Today for the first time in quite awhile,
upon my face grew a genuine smile.

It wasn't fabricated, it was honest and true
and when reality hit me I was left feeling blue.

I was so surprised, it was hard to even speak.
How long had it been? A month or a week?

My smile had faded as quickly as it grew,
but I know it'll be back the next time I think of you.
My head doctor told me I was "existentially depressed"
Sebastian Macias Aug 2017
Good morning in sunlight breeze
Shadows of battle is bedside
It's almost 80 degrees out already
8am this morning took the beating
Ready to go in the mess of life
Scrambling for something tangible
Running towards normality
As the rains washes the jungles
It is not a fight to lose
You stop being yourself, you're dead
An only way out - the Truth
Nat Lipstadt Jul 13
love between poets: “who will be between the sheets next week
when I’m gone,” she lets sigh-escape,
as she watches the backyard paradise parading landscape
of animals before the bay, perfect day sure to come,
her new pets obeying the early morn sunrising awakening call
to rise, everyone playing~parading, before her royal summons,
no coincidence, finger-of-god, two by two

this while I’m kissing her neck,
my arm around her *******,
and the he-intent on slip sliding down
to the small of her back,
obeying his innate,
worship worshiping and giving up,
all he’s got intense intently contentedly

unfazed, unphased,
he’s been interrogated before,
heart is pure he answers:

next weekend when you are back in situ,
thousands of miles away, airplane housed for hours,
writing poems of love from the lost and found,
recalling this exact moment,
how I worshipped your presence,
and these words:

You will be with me in every breath,
our sheets will radioactively emit
ions and molecules of our scent combined,
and present as present  your perfume can be,
elicited, elixir, you and me combinant

she turns from the bay-view,
the animals who now mutually
worship her adoration,
watching, focused on us as observers,
she lifts me up and smiles,

“oh my lover you’re the cad of cads,
king of the baddest poet-lads,
the gist of what is wrong with the best of men,
her, pressing me hard to her chestnut hair chest,
she, falling down into my eyes

take me back to bed, liar,
let me add to my aroma,
to ensue, to ensure you will miss
the best love
you had partly, insufficiently, and unhinged

I’m your lassie, you my lad,
my king of cads, my lover poet,
thief of my poems and my secret speech spells,
escalating senses of one’s imaginings”

along came the rest
of what was freely given,
for love between poets
man and
a woman,
is a someone, somewhere,
sometime summertime

I will still smell you in my
heart, and send to you ballistic missives,
words to explode your tear ducts
when you rest in sheets that met me,
when you’ll know me by my odors,
cry out loud so that you’ll scare our animals,
no matter how many tides wash away our residue,
you will never unknow and be forever unprepared
for my return,

even though we will be each, a thousand unwritten poems away...
harlee kae Jun 2014
I miss your lips
and how when they were pressed against mine
I knew you better then myself.
And I miss your eyes
and how when they caught mine
my heart jumped, everytime.
I miss your fingertips caressing my face
and how they made my skin crawl
in the most pleasant of ways.
I miss laying beside you
and watching you sleep, breathing you in.
In hopes that later when I'm alone
your scent will linger in my nose.
Mostly I miss being reminded daily,
that I am loved.
harlee kae Jun 2014
Seven days have passed since you broke my heart in two
And even though you did me wrong I'm still in love with you
Sometimes when I'm with you I think you want me too
But then you're with her and I know you never do
Or never will
Not again
Not with me at least
We'll be friends
Thats all I get
With that I've made my peace
Meredith Ann Jan 14
Monday was persistent energy and steady annoyance,
similar to the whine of an old motor.

Tuesday was venom dripping into sugar,
as biting words coated in carelessness stung in an unknown degree.

Wednesday was watching the cycle of the sky while paralyzed,
as my focus slips in and out of reality.

Thursday was inconsistent rain.
Violent, steady, refreshing, and cold.

Friday was heat burning behind my eyes,
mixed with paranoia and lethargy.
written 4/7/18
Rose Aug 3
Well, here I am again--
Each week flew by so fast,
Did I learn anything?
Not sure, but I know that
Every time I am there,
Sitting in the front,
Do you realize
All that I try
Yet all I can do is stare.

Can a girl be so turned on,
Like never before.
All I can think about is--
Sitting in my chair every week,
So that you'd notice me.
Off-limit admiration.
Nigel Finn Sep 2018
Today has been hard;
There are bills to pay, and chores to do,
But I know when they're sorted through
I will still love you tomorrow.

This week has been difficult;
So much still remains undone,
And despite not having time for fun
I will still love you tomorrow.

The month has been taxing;
But there hasn't been a single day,
Where I haven't found the time to say
I will still love you tomorrow.

My life seems awful;
A constant, endless, pointless fight,
But one thing gets me through the night
*I will still love you tomorrow.
O 'tis love, 'tis love that makes the world go round!
Chloe Hunt Jun 2018
She used to call him baby a week ago
Now they don’t even talk
He used to kiss her neck and call her beautiful
But apparently that wasn’t enough

They would hide in her room all day
and pretend that the outside world didn’t exist
A week ago she knew what it felt like when he touched her
when they couldn’t help it but kiss

A week later she was still in love with him
but it got a little better each day
A week later she finally cried over him
Letting go of what she was holding in

Tomorrow and the tomorrow after that
She’ll go through it
again and again
Everyone goes through it,
and each time it’s worse :/
#heartbreak #itwillgetbetter
L B Feb 2017
I stood in the February snow
the freezing sleet
no boots
no coat
Steam wafting off my fury

My father read the lie
two hundred yards away
and walking toward me

So I owned it
told it
With a snarl
Without a flinch
Both knowing

I held my ground before him
and wore the red of his hand
on my face for a week
Thank you everyone for the views and comments.  The Daily was a nice surprise this evening.

There were five of us kids.  I was the only one who ever did anything like this.  It was like my father needed someone to stop him sometimes.

My father asked, "What are you doing out here?"
I lied,  "Getting some air."
September Roses Jun 2018
Why is everything so co.mpli.cated.
        Why is nothing how it should be

Nothing good lasts for ever
well it seems to me like nothing good lasts a ******* second

Everything is
         Everything was good a week ago
    A month ago
Ok maybe not good but better

         Because this ******* life has
        given me the ******* lemons
And although I'm used to ***** lemonade
it's like life still enjoys pelting me with the leftover ones
        I want
    To disappear
Go away
MarvelMe Oct 2018
So much on my mind; I don't know how it fit in my brain
This much pain will drive me insane

So much on my heart, it might stop
Is love like a crop?
If so, how do I make it grow?

So much weight on me, I feel like my bones will break
Could you carry my burdens
Dang, I need a break

My head hurts,
I feel a hole in my chest,
And my body feels weak
Am I dying this weak?
Someone help me I'm weak!

If no one comes I'll really die this week
Dying in your heart
kyleigh g Feb 2018
constant paranoia
sleepless nights
bustling hospital halls

trust me
this is nothing less than horrific
after attempting to end it all

"take me home"
i whisper to no one
through my silent tears

staying in a psych ward
for just one week
felt like several years

all i can do
is worry
about if anyone will care

i think they believe
that they would be better off
if i was no longer there

my week in the hospital
was heart-wrenchingly

everyone says
it made me stronger
but i feel immensely weak
i apologize for pouring my heart out. but it's very therapeutic.
PC classic Feb 2017
city concrete crawling horizons

all preposterous blazing everywhere

God above looking
at his creation
with an empty feeling
like alcoholics looking
at their wallet
after a week long ******

Like nights that don't stop at the door

like Tom with running shoes and Jerry with a Tom resistant suit

the streets are empty but the windows come alive
and the houses wake up
and there is light from the TV
and a child watching Disney Cartoons
and a parent ringing the doorbell
and dinner table conversations with the evening news on

and outside the dogs on the street chase every other vehicle that pass by

You don't even have a license.
L B Sep 2016
Route 84 would not lend me
the light of a star last night
Radio blazing at 75 mph
nonsense noise to chew gum by
Crackling political commentary
Static of distance and thick clouds
Invisible mountains blocking
Memories seeping through the cracks
coating the music in a film
I rub my eyes
watch myself punch alert buttons
But it’s the angels’ jukebox tonight

Roll down the window
Watch the heat escape

Summer again

I am building a castle of ancient stones
pulverized by relentless tides
Dragged across maps by mastodons
and mammoth glaciers
The scouring hiss
the ocean sighs
Time has lulled these smoothly
rolling them in the softest hands of sand
and gels of life’s comings and goings
tenderly tumbling
in the millionth moonrise—
Time deposits them here
wet and glistening

For the girl with the plaid two-piece to gather
Shoulders sun-burnt barely say
one week only,
one week of the fifty two
“It’s the time of the season…”
and daddies on the beach are watching….

She has chosen yet another stone
And the castle continues—
in oblivion to all but her legend…

     The queen will be safe here
     from the rabble
     The disgraced Tristan will surely seek her
     Among these lofty cliffs
     Between the raging circuit of the tide
     Here winds forbid the vengeful mob
     Here lovers learn
     the debt of love’s bad timing
     “Drink ye all of it!”
     --the potion that assigns our sorrow….
     She will not sleep—
     while I chew this gum--  GUM?

Roll down the window!

Angels escape with the heat
Waking me with the brush of their wings

As that eighteen-wheeler hugs my flank
And leans on the horn
Lights flashing
Rude rumbling under right tires
Tantrum of snow
In the draft of mass and velocity

…and the angels?
They’ve chosen another good one!
They must’ve liked the 80’s
Their wings slapping the windshield madly  
Their hands steady the wheel
As a fourteen-year old, I picked up a book to read at the beach about the legend of the lovers, Tristan and Iseult.  I was so captivated by their story that it ruled my imagination that summer.  

Anyway, I still think of it when I think of the ocean-- as I did on this cold dark occasion when I should have pulled off somewhere for a coffee, but I was trying to beat the snow storm home.
Route 84, also known as Dead Bambi Highway, has a desolate, treacherous section going over the mountains between NY and Pennsylvania.  Didn't have much option for music at the time, so I leaned heavily on the radio pushing the search button to find anything bearable-- not too much static.
Song reference in this: "Time of the Season" by the Zombies-- all time favorite beach song that happened to be on the radio that night.
harlee kae May 19
i know i'm gonna cry
gonna hug a lil too tightly
as i watch them
say goodbye

exhausting and exciting
and intense and crazy too
summer's coming quickly
and i don't what i'll do
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