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 2822° 
Carlo C Gomez
Invariably,
You prefer to come
To me in the dark.
"You're more my temperature then,"
You once said.
I'm not much of a thermometer,
But I am the eurythmy
To each syllable you give
In such settled shadow.
A play of murmurs and fingertips,
You once named this.
Always I see a wreath in your hair,
In colors of Persia,
Textures of night,
And the soft blended lines
Of you I know
Infallibly.
Vespertine - occurring in the evening.
 1081° 
Balaguer
Exquisitely surrounded by the color of peace,
Out of your face jumps the notion of

"how can this be?"

Your eyes look down to move forward
As if
the floor is lighting up taking your steps.
Behind you the sun sets,
your highness?

"where is your crown?"

The golden curl leaf's match your red shades,
in between the weeping cherries are white heels
Only you
can tie your hair up
wear a light green dress
and runway walk in a garden

®KS
Underlying circumstances caused a major malfunction
 302° 
Peter Garrett
The only thing worse
Than pulling the trigger
Is spending your entire Life
With a barrel on your mouth
Just waiting for that 'bang'
P.s. This is not a poem about suicide. It's about expectations. About living with a heavy burden and never being able to set free of it.
 274° 
KV
there are roses growing
from my hands
My doubt the seeds
Begging them to grow

There are roses climbing
up my arms
digging in my skin
but i am numb
to their thorns and beauty

There are roses growing
in my lungs
bloodied petals
filling my throat
and falling from my lips

Tears are sliding
down my cheeks
I've had enough
I am to weak
 265° 
Maimoona Tahir
A juggler who juggles no *****,
A defeated entity of time,
A humorous attempt of nature to give,
As it was desperate to not  have it's summer hue stolen,
A child of autumn, perceived as the colour brown,
A deserted colour,yet profound,
He swings obsessively,
Deluded in a harsh desire to love,
He imitates the spring,
But his flowers wilt without a cause,
Compelled by a maddening desir,
He corrupts the produce of summer,
He feels avenged,
He was a lost cause.
 260° 
Nat Lipstadt
"Nothing is so healing as the human touch."


Started:    June 21, 2011
Finished:  August 14, 2011

"Nothing is so healing as the human touch."

Purportedly, the final words of Bobby Fischer, the reclusive, oft bizarre-acting Chess Grandmaster, whose life deserves your examination.  

I wasted decades of my life in a loveless, sexless, miserable marriage. I read his dying words, and the poem~notion was born, but the words had their own timetable and it made me crazy.

All the facts you need to read this old poem are now in your possession.
~-----------------------------------------------~
Mos­t poems used to just tumble out,
Sudoku words combos,
Gunslinger I was,
poetically licensed to shoot
from the hip (the lip?).

Then you go mute, until that second,
When once again,
machine gun stanzas fall like
Cheerios
spilling all over the kitchen floor,
as they always do at Two Am
when quietude is in high season,
And the whole house is sleeping.

Once in awhile,
the title~idea recorded,
but the poem unwrit,
just won't come.
*** but no ******.

The words smack you,
write me, I deserve it,
a challenged duel glove
goes kissy kissy on your face,
but the words,
the choice of weapons
eludes for weeks, months.  

So Bobby,
your challenge
long ago accepted,
but my reply imperfect,
has lain bound and gagged,
a poem-in-progress
hid in the trunk of my heart,
unable to escape, even when
escape attempted, unsuccessful.

From June till August moon,
your dying words have been
a cancer growing, within,  
hiding from my bullets
invented to radiate,
your final words, explicate,
Explode and expose.

Your life,
an essay on life in solitary,
anti-social would immodestly describe your life best.

How came you then to exclaim,
re the glories of human touch?


Ah a dying man's last regret,
a simple cri du couer,
nothing extraordinaire,
a basic 101 shoulda/woulda
of "I coulda done it better,"
what's the big deal?

Until this exact second,
Sunday rain jolted body from bed
do I instant understand my obsession,
the import to me,
the need to capture
the haunt of the healing
of your dying words.  

Life is small, miniaturized
when numbered in decades -
five, six, seven,
maybe,
eight nine or even ten.  

How came I to pass so many,
discarded whole decades,
of the few we garner
without the sustenance of
Human Touch?

How came I to allow this
disaster to pass?


How did I advance to the next grade/decade
when a failing grade was scarlet tattooed
In ****** scars upon my chest?

Would be easy to dismiss
as just another
whiney rant
that is no longer relevant
to you,
lies I told myself,
no longer resonate,
over, now.

Never.  

Everything matters.  

Summation.  Accumulation.

Day Counter Totals
reveal gaps of years
that cannot be refilled
so your accounting
must include a retelling of the
wasted days and acknowledge
with your dying breath,

Nothing is so healing
as the human touch.


Thank you my love.
Thank you, Mr. Fischer.
Summer
2011
 243° 
Aslam M
Since there is no place to go
All one can do is go with the flow….

Work is going extremely slow.
All one can do is go with the flow….

The current phase of life is  low
All one can do is go with the flow …. .

Stuck  with people who i harldy know.
All one can do is go with the flow …..
 226° 
Salmabanu Hatim
A Palace like bungalow,
A helipad,
Private jets,
A helicopter,
Garage full of luxury cars
             B U T
He went to the toilet on his two feet.
7/10/2024
 208° 
Yonah Jeong
681
The scariest human being is a criminal who hasn't committed a crime.
 207° 
Immortality
Let go of the weight,
You stand stronger on your own,
Nothing but clear skies.
When you are alone, you are strong.
 202° 
Jeff
To all the haters
That pray on my downfall
I will see you later
And smash your head in to a wall
My poems are amazing
Your poems are trash
I am the best
 198° 
renseksderf
being an unlit candle
an unlit match stick
will surely not suffice
neither the twain shall meet
unless you strike one
the other remains and
unless the lit shall kiss it
the other still abides
 163° 
tabitha asiana
In this life you can meet someone
and then unmeet them in the process of time.
There will be days you will long for their presence,
and days where you wished you never met them at all.

In those paradoxes of life, I have found much meaning.
That life is meant to be lived and that it meant to hurt.
We are truly alive when we feel certain emotion, every emotion.
Every ups and every down reminds us of living the life.

That life is pretty and at the same time messed up,
That there is beauty in sadness,
and there is danger in too much happiness.
nothing much in mind lately, but these thoughts circling back as I am reminded of how I only write when everything in me is falling apart.
 144° 
Nat Lipstadt
“humility, the capacity to listen well. It requires building up trust”
<>

give me your most precious,
time
when the pensive, contemplative,
spirits are present
the strength of introspection rising,
the remarkable willingness to say
with humility
there is so much I have
yet to experience,
that
I am
needy for human exchange

I,
we,
must be willing to
trust
each other for the investment in
each other,
especially that
first time;

it is both instantly invested,
and forever spent,
and can only be recovered,
with lubricant ,
the sealant,
of
humility of
the most basic kind,
more!


a belief that each of us
in possess
something
of value,
each desirous of the
equality of exchange

THIS
is why I love these new poets
so, so much:
they come with the opening intra-opposition,
~
the debating team internal, infernal,
of fear, failure, rejection
but put the courage
to enter the sticking place,
and let themselves be adjudged

ah, we enjoy the risklessness of
faceless anonymity, escaping into the
void of  gone, never-was-here,
but that is only your failure

for who you are is
the courage to reply:

I think…
therefore
I am
5:26 am
the first
Sabbath
this is why you know
my name
of the New Year
 139° 
Nigdaw
I'll pay a ransom for my art
the ivory tower must release
the fair maiden
my muse
for freedom of expression
This site hangs, I have asked three times for help but am ignored. I cannot access my own work or anybody else's so I apologise for not commenting on or liking many poems as I can only see one page. Does anyone else have the same problem or do I now have to pay a subscription to be part of this community.
 127° 
Lawrence Hall
Lawrence Hall, HSG
Mhall46184@aol.com


                 We Are Offered Two Candidates for the Presidency


I am afraid that one of them will win
 125° 
Juno
We
We’ve had promises broken
Words left unspoken

Tears on our cheeks
Lonely weeks

And yet
It still surprised me when you left me.
 121° 
Morgan Howard
My face like a canvas
And I am the artist
I grab my paintbrush
Dipping it in the paint on my pallet
I bring the bristles up to my lips
And I begin my masterpiece
Painting on a beautiful smile
For all to see
But no matter how realistic my art looks
The smile will always be a painting
Being in love with life,
with love.
Love for living things.
Nature, music,
You,
who I haven’t met yet.
Like
a melody I haven’t heard yet.
Warming my heart already,
making me happy.
Just waiting to be born.

And there I was, in a colorful world.
Listening to the song of
nature.
Watching all kinds of animals and all kinds of people together in harmony.
Wondering where all the water was.
Then I recognized you.
You are my mother, my brother
my sister
You are me and I love you
Human being.



Shell ✨🐚
We are all human beings. Little different from the outside but just the same !!
Let’s love each other and stop the useless hating.
What’s happening to others today can easily be happening to you tomorrow.
Stop the useless wars.
World Peace please!
I know I am so naive.
 100° 
Lemon Black
Wave after wave, a playful gale flurries,
To the outstretched palm of Mother Nature,
Each tamed to a steady caress,
As she tends, lovingly nurtures,
Her arboretums underwater,
Where blooms and seaweed sway, unbothered.

An albatross aloft, above,
Not biting on wind’s game of riddles,
Indifferent to which way comes gust,
Unfazed, steadfast, like sky-held buoy.

Then blows my way, at last,
Someone to toy - I’m not as rigid,
And flutters my lips to swear out dust.
I fall for it so easily. Oh boy.
Interpretation and perspective can paint the same scenery in vastly different colors. In seeking underlying intent, we may catch a hint of it—even if none exists. The balance between intuitive insight and evoking suspicions of our own making is delicate. Understanding this is perhaps all we can ask of ourselves: observe, learn, and be mindful not to tip the scale too far.
 99° 
ymmiJ
living lost
unattached to source
pray for those
 98° 
Joiah Luminosa
An endless turn,

A silent burn,

He slips away,

Won’t e'er return.

The flesh is raw,

The lady saws,

I wait her call,

She fights, withdraws.

Escapists flee

When fear draws near,

They toss, they turn—

Nothing is clear.

Confused, we bind

Tormented hearts,

What we will find

Is love in shards.
 82° 
Francie Lynch
The upper branches
Of the Family Tree
Are visible.
I'm not near the base
Where I used to be.

There are fewer branches above;
And as I move there's
More and less to love.

Some limbs above have broken,
Suffered drought and heat
Through the elements of life.
But the trunk is true, strong,
Stalwart and flexible
As the lineage of its rings,
These expanding circles of life.
And above,
The transplanted branches
Were rooted with love.
Sprouts apppear below,
As further up I go.
And my limbs
Are moving slow.
Mistankenly posted this one before I had finished it from my notes.
 81° 
S R Mats
Yes, this is true of aging,
That as we get older
We become more of ourselves,
A refined reduction
Down to the essence
Of what it is that we are,
The true self like cream rising.
A sliver of optimism becomes a slice
And it is delicious in its simplicity.
 80° 
Jia En
I’m waiting for you;
Waiting for you to
Appear,
Yet I fear
That you never will.
It’s been twelve years
And you still
Haven’t arrived
In my life.
Where are you, pray tell?
I should know all too well
If you’re here,
But I still don’t think you’re near.
lonely and mad
I purchased a can of diarrhea cleaner before going bowling. I knew
that I'd need it later to maintain cleaner diarrhea. "Pass the diarrhea
cleaner," my dentist said. "Here you go," I replied. The next day a
good tooth was gone. "You idiot!" I screamed. "You extracted the
wrong one!" The dentist looked away. "You're thinking
about diarrhea cleaner aren't you?!" I questioned.
 75° 
Karma
The scent of sin
Is ripe in man,
Yet the vision isn’t there.
The scent of sin
Rains burning sand
Yet the sinner fails to care.
The scent of sin
Consumes the land
For at nothing does it halt.
The scent of sin
Is spread by hand
For they build top pillars of salt.
 58° 
katie
she’s everything i am,
and everything i could be
she gets tired and lonesome,
and she’s suffered for me

she’s strong and capable,
and someone i look up to
her unconditional love is powerful,
and she’s lessened every pain i’ve gone through

time after time again,
she’s forgiven my selfish ways
because she has always been a part of me,
and she’s always here to stay
a letter to myself
 58° 
Izzy
my beloved,
what do i do
if i never see you again?

what if
words exchanged
were the last ones
to be so?

what if i
were
never
able
to let go

what if i
have to
keep on
turning
in my grave
You
I hate you
I can’t get rid of you
You don’t even know the power you hold
It feels like I’m drowning
Over this but I wasn’t
Confidence waning
My control; give it back

Shaundarel 2024
 55° 
gift
she was artistic,
unconsciously making everything ravishing
she was poetic,
everything she did was aesthetic
—g.l
but he never really cared much for art
 52° 
MetaVerse
There once was a sneezer named Rose
Who'd sneeze to the tips of her toes.
    She once sneezed so heinous
    She puked out her ****
And blew out her brains through her nose.
 51° 
Isaac Carden
Under clouded skies,
Rain falls and thunder cracks.
Life feels serious and dark.
It's intoxicating.

Accepting my mortality,
I'm sinking into nothingness,
The gravity of my decisions
Not significant.

In death we realize
The totality of destiny,
And what awaits us
Or forsakes us
In the afterlife
We can't predict.

Maybe actions play no part.
Guilty of destruction or
Responsible for loving,
Might we get what we deserve?
Love is not an act or feeling
Love must be a way of being
Withing yourself, not someone else
Or it won't survive distress
Cause life is pretty much a mess
No matter what you do regardless
So if you want to love, caress
All the depths and purposes
That are lying in yourself
Everyone has their bear to tame
And you did it, so can they
It is not part of the game
To play for others or to frame
Things as to be needed, cause as above
Stated, that ain't love

Life is pretty much a mess,
So live for yourself, anyways
You won't miss what's meant for you
So there's nothing else to do
Really in the outside world,
In the end,
Love's inside work.

_M.
 49° 
Wary
The more I endeavor to expunge every trace of you, the deeper you inscribe yourself upon my soul, leaving indelible memories that even time cannot efface.
Unable to efface your inscribed memories
 49° 
Caroline Shank
Try me, myself, into
the last chapter of my life
Today is full of Autumn
The call to the Winter
Poet to change from love
to the song of nights long
trill of darkness.

Climb down the
ladder. Reach for the
blue book.  The days
shorter my longing,
my wasteland

I'm over the reverie
of the old lady.  I
meditate and wait
to go.  


Caroline Shank
10.7.2024
 48° 
loriann capra
and the flower lady said,
"she's a spring."

with golden notes in my skin –
my overturned arm in her palm;

she said pastels were my thing.
 44° 
Casper Alexander
I have not shaved in three days, I don't think it looks bad, but my hair is a bit long. I want a fade. Fade away into a blissful meeting with God. Where he warms my body with his love.
My perfect face, my perfect form,
It’s been some time since you crossed my mind.
My perfect eyes roam, longing for features that will never be mine,
Yet I am not sad; I carry the essence of my kind.

I wish I didn’t dwell, though I was sailing well on this rocking ship.
My mirror lies beside me, a truth I yearn to eclipse.
I could seize it now, as effortless as dispersing a speck of dust.

My perfect face, my perfect form become what I wish,
I hate to love you and ache for your kiss, but...
 36° 
Sam
Shh
the moon pulls the tide over the sand like a blanket over a babe that turns in their sleep

It’s midnight somewhere and the waves repeat simple instructions
ssshhhh
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