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******* the moon
Chanting alluring tune
'Oh come to me for I can see the world in all its glory
I know the land
The plan at hand
The tell of loves true story
Oh sing to me sweet melody
Of how we drifted as riders in tides of melancholy
How we surfed those bashing waves and held on to meet with shore
How we hold our hope so bold and cry out from core when we are washed to the deep once more
Knowing we will be swept the way we came before
Now I stand on moon so grand
And sing in reign so high
I feel the earth
How world will turn
And mighty power rests to mine side
So conjure up these spectacular skies to shower upon those held below
To lift from ache and past mistake
Rip the chains of grounds sorrow
Rise up!
Fill up!
Release the hollow..
For time is now to Unite!
Ignite!
Spark Up Bright!!
Connect with Divine Light as Sacred Offering
of
Recognition
to
Refined
Mastery
of
Tomorrow
When the world is in high spirits
In a lazy mood like a madman
I'm breaking myself down
From this wonderful world.

When the world is educated
I am just starting to learn
When the world is founded
I am asking others for help.

When the world is bright and strong
I am so tired in this powerful world
When the world enjoys a morning
I am still sleepy in this pleasure.

When the world becomes a new day
I am still in the darkest mind
When the world is young and fresh
I am a lazy young in this country.

Come on Patriotism. I'd care
To build up my country
Like the developed world
My youth's exaggerations
Keep smiling for the nations.
Olosh torun
A White paper flower for your paper crane
one drawn from the ground the other raised to the sky
Brighter than the snow
Liighter than the air
Hope floats
As hope grows
Message from beyond
The crane and the flower still exist
In memory and thought
But most of all,
eternally in spirit.
Pictures in the windows
A nod from the stars
Paper flowers smile up
At paper cranes
Loss
Let's play pretend.
Let's pretend we don't know each other.
Let's pretend we were never lovers.
Let's start over.
You can teach me how to sing.
I can teach you how to dance.
You can teach me to play piano.
I can teach you how to love.
Let's start over.
Let's drink.
Let's drink to the good times, to the bad.
Let's get ****** up together and not remember how it ends.
Let's be young, wild, and free.
Let's start over.
Now let's remember.
Let's remember the past.
Let's remember how we used to be.
Let's remember all the fun we had when we pretended.
Forest inquires:

How do you decide, choose your design, find its guise,
give it a face, surrender to the poem's own
vanity,
        and choose the poem's alignment?


                                                  an­ answer forms:

this alignment idea,
you think it simple,
everybody understands
what your inquiry means

alignment -  the appropriate relative position

we live in relative position to each other, our poems too, for they are but written synapses of our close captioned interactions, seemingly random, but assuredly not, as we invest in ourselves, seeking the mysterious appropriate answer
                                                                ­                        from the Theory of Poetic Relativity

                                                   ­             i love your question;                              hold it to my nostrils,          
                                             ­             smell the coffee aroma wake up blast inherent;
                                                                ­      
 kiss its robust childlike cheeks for the simple   soulfulness essential arousal;
for you see sir you have found
the appropriate position that relates us, our mindful words;

                                 answer no good, wholly insufficient?
                                        perfect.
                          as i close this quick cooked to perfection laboratory solution, take note

                              
                            ­                        the earth has moved
                                our hearts have beaten a measly thousand times
                                    time and space have appropriated our prior
                                          
relativity

when you return years hence this poem's shape will perforce have moved. for words are weathered flux constant and yet inherently unchanged except for the part of us that changes with every re-reading  

and what was


**right before has left and the center has moved again
Nat,

This is probably just an insane thing of mine, but I cannot stand the center aligned formatted poetry. I want to read the poetry, but why center? I want to know why it is center aligned? If it is a metaphor for how poetry could/should serve as a balancing point, a countervailing force for a point, perhaps I could understand...but so many poems center aligned, I don't know, I am probably missing something.

A right aligned poem? Perhaps I could understand, if the content was asking me to revolt, to revolutionize, to counter the status quo. But a centered poem? What does the alignment mean?

anyway, it has been a long time since I've been around, keep writing, hope you are well.

-forest
The source of my sorrow
Has been resurrected
Along with the memories I had buried.
Everything before you was buried,
But the burn of whiskey
Has robbed every grave I created;
Truths brought back by the
Numbness of my lips and
Willingness of my neighbors ears.
I.
she scratches her back,
marking territory on translucent skin
they are of the same opacity -
as if upon meeting they scanned each other’s bones
to ensure strength
one has a way of smiling
where her lips pull against her gums
and the other has the tendency
to flip the pillow to the cold side before sleeping
they are never not entwined
they never had to get used to
two sets of bras in the dryer,
a hairbrush constantly covered with
each other’s blonde hair,
never using the condoms in their jewelry boxes
it was easy
is easy
when one asked the other
for a matching tattoo,
she put her partner’s initials on the soles of her feet

II.
the birthday party was in full swing by mid-afternoon
no one in the party had hair any lighter than charcoal
and the birthday girl was four, wearing only one shoe
all the women were clad in floral bikinis;
the ripples of their stretched skin on full display
in this circle, they honed their cultural energy
with coconut water and bongo drums
the guest of honour was passed out within an hour,
but they had come all this way
and wanted to make the most of it

III.
the night before she had found herself
entwined with a bodybuilder ten years her senior
she turned her hands over and over,
checking for signs that she had changed
but as the dog licked the inside of her legs
she was at peace with the fact that she always
belonged in a stranger’s bed
he said she felt good
and pressed welts passionately onto her ***
he wanted to take her sailing on the lake the following day
but she preferred to sit on a man-made sugared beach alone
You hide in a thin sheet of warmth,
Coloured with yellows and orange,
Of kindness, care and love.

Painting me with what I thought was festive.
Showering me with "I love you"s and concern.
(Have you eaten? How was your day?)
Did you ever truly care?

My heart constricts at the thought
Of your sweet honey coated tongue
Whispering lies into my ears for "a fun time".

Compliments, flattery and beautiful poetry,
They spilt from your mouth so easily.
Said to many people as a way to grasp
Their heart and their soul.

I'd soon have to repay tenfold
With outrageous dares.

Faking my own happiness,
To repay all your kind words such as
"You are my world."

I loved it when you said those words to me.
Every bit of flattery you've written in me,
Every bit of concern you've shown me,
Be they fake or real,
I loved it all.

But, honey, all your "I love you"s mean nothing
When you only say it after you've used me
For fun, for entertainment, for pleasure,
For yourself..

I had to say goodbye,
I was unhappy,
You loved the idea of me
That showers you with attention.

Of course, I'll miss you.
I'll miss that sweet mouth of yours,
I'll miss the romance that you showed me,
I'll miss the warmth of your (fake) concern,
I'll miss your beautiful ways to say "I love you."

But I what I won't miss is,
The way you were my puppeteer
And I was a mere doll looking for love.
The way you stroked my hair,
Only to strike with bitter requests.
The way you left me when you were done
And came back the next day for more.

I hated the warmth of your breath,
Contrast to the bleakness of your treatment.
I hated the warmth of your love,
Contrasted to the coldness of how fake it was.

I hated that.
I hated you.

But even so, oh honey..
The melancholy I feel when I cast you away,
Is beyond comprehension.

For you've played me like a game and won,
You've captured my heart and painted it black.
But you've yet to capture my wits.

I was being used.
I'm not a blind fool to what you are,
But, oh, I fell for you so hard
And now it's a farewell.

Goodbye, my love.
Goodbye, my parasite.
An older piece I thought I'd post.
Needs massive improvement.
I still have a lot of ways to go.
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