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Love Poem 29

Every day, I fall in love with something new,
while maintaining the love I have already found.

I fall in love with scars, wrinkles,
clichés, and repetition; I fall in love 
with items that people throw to the wind,
kick around, and step upon.

I fall in love with my enemies,
one of life's hardest lessons to learn;
I find haters to be marvelous motivators.

The old man who sits in a rain-gorged gutter,
his fist raised to the sky in fury
as he talks to an invisible audience
about how Apollo stole his dearly, beloved wife—

I fall in love with him too.

I fall in love with things that some people deem 
as ugly, dirty, morose, and immoral.
The more I fall in love,
the more I love each moment,
including the pain, torture, and misery 
that may unfold along the way.

Every day, I fall in love with something new,
while reinforcing the love I already have .

If I write down treasonously teetering words,
the reader could assume such words 
to be rooted in rage, or a cynical outlook,  
when the words are actually birthed from love—
I love every word that exists.

I fall in love with the woman 
who is too shy to have a sincere conversation with anyone,
because she believes herself to be grotesque,
when in fact, she is exquisitely gorgeous.

I fall in love with broken daffodils, bent daisies,
a shattered seashell, the sweet stench of seaweed 
rotting on the shore, and the way her hair smells 
as it bakes in the sun.
I fall in love with black and white photographs,
mesmerized by the essence that the dead have left behind.
I fall in love with marbles,the feathers of mourning doves,
and with the stray cat, who, after she watched the moving truck 
drive away, slunk around the alley in search of scraps—
over the years, she has proven to be a respectful 
and loyal companion (so easy to fall in love with, again and again,
while maintaining the love I already have).
I fall in love with saints, villains, rusted watering cans,
the way sunlight bends into prisms
when it shines through the cracked, antique windowpane
that I simply don't want to replace.

And as for the people who think that it's impossible 
for someone such as myself
to fall in love with something new, every, single day,

well, I love them too.

2016 Pulse Remix, July 18th, 2016
(original version was written on April 6th, 2012)

Copyright © Chris D. Aechtner | Year Posted 2012

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To all the heart breakers -a ZOMBIE's valentine

Wouldn't you rather~

Wouldn't you rather be dead?
Maybe shoot yourself in the head?
Over my dead heart, I'd never want to be a zombie like you.
The sight of your limbs are rotten all the time.
All synonyms say of you looks like a 3 legged swine.
Go ahead and do us all a favor, 
hide and stash yourself away from all your neighbor. 
I think I'd rather have my eyes stuck with glue
So I won't have to look at you
When it comes to family friends, you ain't got none.
You're always gonna be called the lonely retarded one.
Who could ever love a face like yours.
not even your mother see's pass your gores 
No need for privacy when you pee
Go ahead and take a leak and drown yourself in the sea.
Don't think for one second you are irresistible 
Love making with a zombie is impossible.

Wouldn't you rather be dead?
maybe shoot yourself in the head

The time to kill yourself is at hand.
Slicing your wrist is what we recommend.  
Cut your tongue off, don't want to hear you squeal.   
Blood all over, your face is no big deal
A sword or machete will only pick up the pace
I wanna see your guts pop out your mid-waist 
Contaminated objects is a must
Anything to remove your face of disgust.
The easy part is the best
Once you are gone we will all feel blessed,
The flaw of your existence  
Is what keeps us all in distance 

Wouldn't you rather be dead?
maybe shoot yourself in the head

Close your eyes and die
No one wants to hear you cry
You said you wanted to be loved
believe me~ you're better off unloved
I say do yourself off
Anyways you've always had it rough...
Go ahead and scream
This is not a dream
Now see how you make me feel
All I want is for you to end your ugly ordeal.
I will praise this day of course
Knowing soon you'll be a rotting corpse.

happy valentine ~ TO: All My DEADBEAT X-es from Texas.

Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2012

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Of Ink

   Partial Paper
 -A poet in heat-

Ink carries its own tale,
When moonshine intoxicates your pen
Bottles of ink fill your mind
Composing symphonies on every line
Drops of passion all over the mask you wear
Nothing compares to black stains and broken nails

This part of you 
The tough skin you'll ever live in
Fountain pens of split identities
Who Are You?
Sinking  words like no other
Poisoned ink piercing every rhyme
Inferior poet, making the heart pure
Anger plus anger "GIVE ME MORE!"

You have a desire to paint all day,
Breathing and beating in every way
Toxic lines, from which ink flows
Inhaling images from the world
Deep and cold sorrowed emotions 
True love is always easy to poetize
Dear Poet:  "Ink Never Lies."

Pretty pink acrostic ink when she's nearby
Sugar and salt, Epic taste of reality
Ballads sang under the full moon
Sunny Sonnets, on any rainy day
Ode's of rivers from your past
A dark smile jotting down memory lane
Monologue tears brought under pressure
Loading cartridges of fresh Senryu and Haiku"
Dramatic red runs through your veins when all is done
Unfolding old and new propaganda's
POET: You are my favorite verse in every stanza
((Only this, and nothing more))
Writing is like giving birth


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013

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Missing Mother

Bits of me are missing mother,
the bits of me which you placed.
Bits of me are missing Mother;
ah,         I see you in my face.

Trying to remember Mother’s days -
wine and roses - Sinatra songs 
beaches, pipe curls and crinolines -
Days, so far gone, so long ago,
replaced by bitter brew: by tears,
by fears, by little pills;
I remember you.

I see you in my face     Mother.
Years gone by and still I try,
no easy thing to do, I try to remember,
just a few   memories of happy days
with you - 

Was it when   I learned to read;
when you baked your pies? Ah, Mother, 
mother memories only come in sighs.

Still, in all, it’s very true, I spend 
each day missing,   missing all of you.

Included in my book The Hurricane by Prolific Press 2015

Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2012

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Yesterday Love Was Such An Easy Game To Play

Yesterday, I went home for lunch, I never go home for lunch. When I got to our apartment  I don't know why but I didn't reach for my key.  Francine was at work and I always leave last in the morning.  I was sure I had locked the door but I didn't reach for my key. I reached for the door knob and turned. The door was open.  I don't know how I knew. The moment I entered I knew.  I froze. I could feel it, smell it, hell I could taste it. I started walking but my muscles wouldn't move,  my lungs were grasping for air  for some oxygen  some sweet, sweet oxygen but I could barely breathe. “Leave!” I told myself but I kept walking. Not really walking,  it was like moving through mud,  like a slow motion scene in a movie.  But this wasn't a movie.  This was my life and I could feel it slipping away  from my grasp. I heard noises! Francine.  I had heard those noises a hundred times before,  they were the sounds of an Angel  but this was no heaven  this was my own private nightmare. The moans traveled through the muck in the air  amplified like the hiss from a distorted speaker.  It mocked me over and over again. Climbing a mountain might have been easier  but I finally reached the bedroom, and there they were, and there she was. I knew, I knew the moment I entered the apartment.  Why hadn't I just turned back?  I could barely see, my eyes were blurry,  covered in layers of my own tears. I could see her  I knew I had never seen him before. They were naked and in our bed.  Naked in OUR BED! How do you that? How do you cross the line to that extreme? You'd think the green eyed monster  would control my actions from here on in.  I did see green! I was insanely jealous but I didn't want to end up the morning headline in the newspaper. That monster jealousy was by my side but I took charge.  I'd have to keep him at bay, at least for now. You'd think I would be mad, I wasn't. You'd think I'd curse and call her whore. I didn't! Being cut open alive must be lest painful than this.   This hacked away at my spirit,  tore away at my self worth. I felt like a pile of worthless shreds. I spoke I mean my lips moved and words came out... I think.  I think I said,  I'm not sure it all happened so fast, she never spoke. I could see the shame on her face  she didn't need to speak,  but, but I think I said 'Sorry... I said Sorry and I left. I wandered for what seemed hours,  it was minutes.  It wasn't like I was meandering to a different drummer;  there just wasn't any music anymore. I was moving to the rhythm of the beating of my own heart.  Like a broken record it was skipping, like a broken record it played  in a loop of repetitive monotony. I suffered in my circled steps  until I couldn't stand it any more. I found just enough strength  to return to the apartment. I knew she was gone  I already felt the emptiness in my whole. We'd never see each other again. We had been so much. She was a big part of my life. She was the love of my life. I would never love anyone like that again. So much of her was me. I thought she was my soul mate. We let go of all of it. There is a feeling of betrayal. A feeling of disgust. A jealousy that takes over. I'd never look at her the same again. Everything she ever did from that day on would always make me suspicious. Jealousy would rule me. Jealousy should never rule anyone. If you can't trust the people in your life, friend or lover, you need to remove that person from your life. You have to remove that person out of your life. Trust, is the only gift we can offer. Friend, lover or stranger! People can trust me. My word is my bond. I let her go,  I really didn't have a choice I would never be the same again. She was gone. She had left a note. It said Sorry! Sorry! We both were. Maurice Yvonne 11~30~2014 Sponsor: Verlena S. Walker Contest Name: The Green-Eyed Monster 

Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2014

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This scar of mine

                        There is a scar
                          On my face
                            Small, steadfastly placed
                              One only notices if they are this close 
                                 To kissing my soul
                                   On my cheek
                                      Below the eyes and sideways
                                         Beside the bubble-gum sweet
                                           Mouth, vivacious story teller
                                            like an upside down
                                              sharp angled  half moon                    
                                               The endless emotions of my sky
                                                 So attractively rough
                                                   It attacks the delicate features of my face
                                                    Allowing my streetwise beautiful
                                                      To shine through, I don’t hide thetruth
                                                        It’s as plain as the scar on my face
                                                         Life isn’t ugly, you make it that way
                                                          Some days I wish it wasn’t there
                                                          But I always
                                                          Appreciate it’s presence  
                                                          I won’t ever forget
                                                        When I received 
                                                       The blow to my vanity
		            From a fight over youthful yearnings
                                                     Inside this 
                                                   Is my learning processes
                                                Scars hold history
                                             I shall carry with me
                                         Through tough times
                                        Soft and easy, peaceful
                                      To remind me
                                    Of me

Copyright © Bella Cardenas | Year Posted 2007

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Long before Horus' exposure on its trunk
and the nailing of Jesus upon its grain,
rings have been added within the Tree
while people proclaim to hold the key
of salvation: a continually borrowed mythology
swallowed; an extra-strength sleeping pill

pulling the masses into slumber,
and away from the awakened truth
that such supposed salvation 
is an illusory ticket far too easy to obtain
for it to be real—
a discriminatory, fairy tale-damnation
that multiplies the division 
of "Us and Them."

Too many people hand out the easy tickets,
then cut and light the tree:
a hypodermic injection of selfish memories
mixed into the mortar of temples designated as sacred,
while dogmatic shears amputate roots from the sky.

Too many people preach
about a cheap, polystyrene heaven,
while only a few walk the narrow path
that leads towards the kingdom within,
and live the sacrifice because it feels right.

Again and again, 
the ticket isn't so easy.
We must put aside our slumber-crutches,
stop watching the few carry the rest
upon their backs, until bones creak and groan
from the weight of people waiting for salvation
to be handed to them.

For 27 years, 46664 was etched into the bark
of a branch in the road.
When forked doors opened,
a living, breathing gospel
brought down fences,
and even then, the wood was made into crutches
for people to say, 
"M will fix it; M will do this, M will do that;
M will save us, just wait and see."

M is finally free. Yes, he is free!
Free, but not lost to us;
he survives as spirit-seeds.

We must cease to lean upon crutches;
we must purge the pill from our blood,
and awaken into gardeners who water the seeds
within the soil of our hearts,
before the vision withers completely,

and we remain only as husks
waiting to be hydrated by watering cans;
weakened hands and arms unable to lift their weight

held in our own hands all along, 
held in our hands all along.

December 7th/8th, 2013


Copyright © Chris D. Aechtner | Year Posted 2013

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If I Could

if i could,             

                         i'd  wish a magic wand.            

if i could,

              i would build dreams                

                                     brick by brick

                                                        the kind         

                                                                one could hang on to            

                                                                                                one could live in.

if i could,
               upside down 
                                            so the sky 
                                                            baby blue 
                                                                        would look as if 
                                                                                         it was smiling.
my bestest hope 
                                  wipe away the tears from
                                                                 the hungry
                                                                 the abused
                                                                  the sickly 
                                                                and elderly.            

                                             this first,
fore all else,       
                            yes the children and the elderly.

if i could,
                            replace every tear with a smile
                                                                              a hug
                                                                          a tickle

if i could,

snap my fingers make money obsolete,
                                                        plenty for everybody to share.

        clap my hands medical care everywhere would be there.

in my heart, live dried out tears.
there, i hear the pulse of our planet.
                                 so many good people,               
                                               people who care.

there's a black venom       
                       such a small dose
                                 affects the masses.    

if i could,
                    supply all with the antidote.

if i could,              
                   i would build an arc
                                sail 'till the world was cleansed 
                                                              move in with everyone           
                                                                                             on one land.

call it OURS.             
           yes definitely OURS.
                                           i like that name.
i can't.          
              i can't do all those things.

i can kiss where it hurts.         
                                 give hugs freely.
                                             give what possessions,                                       
                                                                    i can do without,
                                                                            share my physical wealth.

i fear nothing.
              least of all poverty
                              happy to share what i can.

i can offer you my love
                                       love comes easy to me.

it never feels like enough.        

                                        but i am here,     arms wide open.

tell me what is it you need,        how can i help.

i love you,


Maurice Yvonne

Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2014

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- A One Way Ticket -

Hills come alive with sweet sounds of birds whistling tunes
Filled with harmonious peace, you sail within time
Gentle whispering winds through branches of trees call

When you dare to take the first step forward
Everything feels so easy embracing such beauty 
Mixing voices of nature talk deeply flowering 

Thrown into the unknown life is truly magical
A universe inside feelings explode in one gift
The soul eclipsing delight warmed with sunshine rays

Like a virgin being on guard of the tiger claws, lions, bears and snakes
Only when your starlight kisses clouds evaporate 
Time continues and the butterfly waltzes freely once more

Crossing paths in this journey new beginnings grow
Small wild strawberries threaded upon a stem beg to taste
Opening one gateway within thoughts 

Setting sail into another world beyond 
With you salt of the ocean waves rise and fall
Upon rocks kissing pillar of strength

A cool breeze says goodbye upon your cheek
Loving spices land this boat on paradise sands where gold sparkles warm beams
When we meet at Heaven's gate batting lashes close entering a doorway into a dream 

Written by L. Mcdaid & A-L Andresen :)  05.09.2015 
Copyright © All Rights Reserved

Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2015

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I'm Vinyl Baby

i’m vinyl baby,
easy to scratch,
easy to gouge, 
prone to warping.

i’m a 45 rpm record, 
single and labelled,
still got track marks.

dot dot dot
from the seventies!

you know there’s
my black side,
my dark side.

i’m a 45 rpm record, 
single and labelled,
still got track marks.

you’re my diamond needle.
i'm your music,
you know me,
 you play me.

you’re my diamond needle.
gets under my skin
rides my 

even pass these years,
when my time comes,
pack me in my jacket
bury me in your closet.

you know i’m still
your song,
your tune,

dot dot dot

you make my life neat.

like a circle
i’m the black vinyl
on the roundabout

your still 
the only 
for me.

i’m a 45 rpm record, 
single and labelled,
still got track marks.

play me!

Maurice Yvonne

Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2014

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The Color Of Our Blood

oh how i love the color red red is love and love is red. i painted a moment used a palate with every shade of red,  only red. that is the color of our love, of pain of lips of blood of skin all and more is our love. used a  palate of reds painted a moment painted you, and with depth of color i captured you. perfectly! i never spilled a drop, my brushes, my knives, my hands, my eyes, they all served me well. moments are not easy to create. how precious they are, difficult to inhale fully but even strained  i would always take you all in. the fullness of you all in. i would never spill a drop. me? i'm all in. my creation takes form stands and walks, i follow, paint, not a drop  do i spill. when you offer gifts they need to be special they need to be - well thought out. oh! how well thought out you are. oh! what moments we have shared. life, so kind to us, the time we've spent. if a philosophy teacher, if one asked me, "what's it all about" i would say "you" i would ace that test. nothing exists in its full majestic glory until i experience it with you. i would lift the sun every morn draw it down every eve illuminate the sky fantastic. every morn. every eve. a lover's night under the moon, part the clouds if like curtains they blocked our view, if like a wall they blocked our light. now, my moment painted i observe. my hand nowhere to be seen it was you guided this piece. you and me my love surrounded in red  against a red background  and not a detail unclear. our hands holding. our lips touching. you are my breath the beat of my heart neatly painted in red, perfect! it is us, our love is red every shade and every tone is we. 05~12~2014 Maurice Yvonne

Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2014

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The days that brought me here

I thought I would go backwards
Into my uncertain
My awkward
The days of my wondering
What will I be when I grow up?
Will I ever grow up?
Is everyone better than me?
Boy I wish I could be more like that
That guy
Yep him
The athletic confident one
Words come so easy to him
Jokes flow freely from his lips
And they laugh
They love being with him
What's it like to be that self assured?
He has so many friends
None of them would ever talk to me
What would it be like to hang out with the cool kids?
I try telling myself
It doesn't matter
I have a few friends
I want it to be enough
I think it's enough
With them
I imagine and pretend
To be funny
One smile
One chuckle at a time
I gradually become me
A better more confident self
A lover of words
I talk my way towards my future
While listening for clues 
Building myself two by twos
Real friends are the ones I choose 
Their words
Teach me about them and myself
I don't hide on lonely street
There are more people to meet
So I jump up off my seat
Rewrite myself on many a sheet
Until I can follow and hear my internal beat
Do what needs doing
Repeat and repeat 
Until I come to here and now
Breathless with WOW
Understanding HOW
That uncertain and awkward part
Changed everything 
It still is
Will be
An important part of me
Because it helped me see
There are many many 
Significant and individual
ways to be
So now I choose
Care Free!

Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2015

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~Moon & Sea~

Hey, boy won't you open that door?
Let's sing and walk by the shore

Come and spread out your eyes
Block looking for reasons, and ways?

The cosmos are more than a space to explore
Don't hide when I need.... Plus more.

Finish playing a master in disguise!
Let's find the perfect sunrise, sunset surprise. 

Put your arms around me
Allow your moon to reflect off my sea

Too much time has passed you by
Come outside with and view the horizon up high

I've got my eyes set upon you
There's no need to feel blue

Hey, boy comes, climb up this tree!
I'm going to show you all the things you can't touch, you can't see.

Let's fit the luxury and beauty of this world into our play.
Don't say them words that will set me free to walk away.

Take this kiss and see how it feel deep within your heart.
Close your eyes in my garden, and draw with the fragrance of art

I want to take you into that space, astronomy love.
Making it easy to float with the clouds way up above.

Glide away from the blame of gravity and self-destruct.  
A bounce of the dust of hurt when you fall and get cut.

Boy, let's hold in this perfect air together.
Leave the cold end of someone else's weather.

Follow me beyond the distance of chemistry.
I will expose your moon and explain the physics of my sea. 

Give it another chance and you will see!
Your moon, is skin deep, needing water from me. 

Turn on the tune in your heart, and listen to me. 
In every sunrise, the moon entwines with the sea. 

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2011

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The Malkavian..Part 1

The Malkavian..Part 1

His mind has all the meaning of a madman that is screaming
Tortured and tormented, a life lived to be lamented 
His family, drained and defeated, finally retreated 
Leaving him believing that he was beyond redeeming 
The doctors sent in talked of hope and healing  
The drugs administered only made him more demented  
Cementing the feeling, that his life is just an echo 
Of the endless, timeless, all consuming screaming 

His best friend is a dis-proportioned bird appropriately named Buddy 
Who’s monotonous motion in drinking is somewhat soothing to his being 
Though not potent enough to stop the persistent pounding of the screaming 
Often he stared into the emptiness of nothingness contemplating the beauty of its 
Only to find his mind is drowning in a confounding conundrum he can’t quite define 
It's hard to be philosophical when your mental testicles haven’t dropped to the appropriate 
So sometimes he whispers tongue twisters until his brain blisters 
Madmen mask madness in mindless task of mass mayhem 

It was easy for him to pretend to be prim and proper 
Just a mask to don in order to dupe his doctor 
Circumventing the system that couldn't’t save him 
He was as he always had been and would be 
In constant pain and agony with no desire for sympathy 
Just in need of some freedom from his prisons and medications
Meditations and mantras had given him a sentiment of a design
On how to inhibit the screaming and maybe even end it
Four years preparing and plotting the perfect moment of promise 
A fire formed from a single flame fueled by an accelerant 
Raced through the halls up the walls and killed all the residents 
Eighty-eight inmates and staff burned alive in what seemed like and instant
Such little time to search through the bodies looking for a single person 
He found her on the fourth floor clinging to the bathroom faucet 
He lost his virginity to the burnt corpse of nurse Denise 
And to his amazed mind he was astonished to find the  screaming was silenced

Copyright © Nate D. | Year Posted 2010

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Silent Killer

Sugary drinks and decadent sweet desserts
indulgent chocolate and crumbling cookies
lavish ice cream - refreshing on summer days
entice my senses - craving more and more
nectarous delights of luscious nirvana
tantalize my taste buds calming my soul

Kiss of death - having a sweet tooth
ignorantly naive to the damage it causes
lusting forbidden vices that were devoured
life is never the same when diagnosed diabetic
erratic disease can be hereditary - constantly
reminded by how my mother suffers from it

22 November 2015
A Vice You Love - Poetry Contest by Rob Carmack

In diabetes, rising blood sugar acts like a poison.  The World Health Organization estimate that over 382 million people worldwide including 3.2 million people in the UK have diabetes.
Diabetes is often called the silent killer because of its easy-to-miss symptoms.
Diabetes affects 24 million people in the U.S., but only 18 million know they have it. About 90% of those people have type 2 diabetes.
Having a blood test will reveal if you have diabetes. I would highly recommend it.

Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2015

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Another Man's Clothes

I wonder
Who I might become
If I wore another man's clothes
If I thought his thoughts
Dreamed his dreams
Lived his heartache
Felt his insanity
Walked along his razor's edge

Would I
Digest his pain
Rise above his circumstances
Would I realize how easy my own life has been

I could search through his pockets
Look for answers
Remove the tie from his neck that strangles
Rip off the clothes that make the man
Return his sanity
Free him from the labels sewn on yesterday's promises

Or I could walk
A bit longer
Search a bit deeper
Discard my own misconceptions
Feel his peace
Think different thoughts
For he is more and less than me
He has danced and loved in exceptional ways
And as I walk and wear his shoes
I hear the tapping of his soul
I become
It is not him
Not me
Not anyone
That can save us
From ourselves
Yet we are changed
In inexplicable ways
By wearing
Another man's clothes

I chose this one for your contest because I feel as 
a poet I put myself in other people's clothes all the time.
I like the premise of this contest and I hope this gives you
a glimpse of who I am. 

Richard Lamoureux
Submited to Linda's contest
written in early December 2013

Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2013

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“I am certain that I have been here as I am now a thousand times before and
 I hope to return a thousand times after.”  GOETHE 


Once upon a time, 
The Lord of spiritual consciousness was sitting peacefully on His blissful throne 
Ceaselessly contemplating upon His equilibrium
T’ was the era of no moon, no sun, no stars, no earth, no oceans, no rivers
Just a motionless, timeless and deathless entity it was happy with His existence  


Suddenly the thought of sacred motion was felt deep down in his essence
Seeking the chaos to be stirred from its core outwardly
Consequently separating the light from the darkness and all the other elements 
That constitute the Cosmos
Thus giving birth immediately to old mighty time


When Time: This wizard of celestial art found himself alive
His expert hands stretched in advance, wanting to create
For that the plastic energy he took, that was everywhere around
And skillfully and patiently the Cosmos carved according to the Logos
Creating thus, the nebulae, the galaxies, the stars and all the other planets


Then God looked at times creation and marveled with its beauty
But as there was no life to be seen in all of this creation
The thought of desire was born in God to inhabit every place
For that out of himself he cut myriads blazing souls
Which like shooting stars he sent downwards to animate nature,


In this way, to manifestation’s cosmic sphere, the souls were beamed
Radiating their luminosity to reality’s lower planes  
Bringing with them the sacred principles to denser forms of life 
As they were passing from the spiritual, the mental and the astral
And finally materializing, themselves on the physical solid plane
Where life began on earth, with God’s will and grace!


Each soul an ambassador was and is of God’s will and grace
A ray of divinity, a guardian of the Holy Law 
Each with a specific mission: to learn or rather to remember
How to find the way of return throughout space and time
And with the divine, again, to be seen in perfect equilibrium


The day I was born, as every man alive,
I found my immortal self bound to the wheel of time 
That around eternity’s circumference took me, in very heavy chains
Asking to follow obediently the unswerving path of fate:
This endless trip of return where the only constant thing is change


Since then I have died once and many times after
But death's dark palaces to hold me were unable
As my soul’s perpetual desire to follow my destiny
Brought me back to this ephemeral world of fleeting dreams
With a new body, new hopes, new goals but always with the 
Same desire


Thus I journeyed back and forth the plains of oblivion
Choosing the best conditions I could, according to my karma
Trying to find endlessly the golden middle way 
That unmistakably between the extremes is only to be found
But since from the river of forgetfulness each time I was drinking 
I was obliged, unfortunately, to start over again


So, I was born once a king and another was I born a beggar
And in turns I was born a coward, a hero, a holy man, a vicious man,
A  Christian, a Muslim, an atheist, an idolater a strong man and a woman
And healthy and sick I was born and intelligent and witless
And was I born to love so much the things I once detested
And to hate passionately the things I once held dear


And I was born once to laugh and another just to cry
And I drunk successively from joy’s cup and that of sorrow’s
And was born to make friends out of my enemies 
And enemies out of my brothers
And was born to realize the impossible dreams and fail the very easy  
And I was born to slay and to be slain alternatively for thousands of years


Thus I lived continuously the extremes of both good and evil
Striving to find endlessly the balance in my soul
Through the wisdom that was endowed upon me by the Great Spirit
That like a beacon, luminous, to guide me waits
To my supreme destiny that GOD for me has traced


So, as was passing from life unto death, from darkness unto light
With a speed determined by me, I don’t put on GOD the blame,
All my lessons have I learned through trial and error
Up to the very last reincarnation, in body’s mortal temple


Now free, AT LAST, from all earthly desires and every karmic blame
Radiating with holiness and glowing with grace 
My immortal soul, HER divine wings unfolds and soars upwards the heavens
White light blazing in perfect equilibrium 
And pure now to her glorious creator returns and with 

©Demetrios Trifiatis
  11 DECEMBER 2013

“A little while and my longing shall gather dust and foam for another body.
A little while, a moment of rest upon the wind and another woman shall bear me”

* This poem because of its length I was unable to post it in one piece for I was not a
member for life at that time therefore I published it in two parts as: “CREATION” and as “REINCARNATION.” Here is the entire poem as it was originally written.
Now, my friends know that apart from my epigrams I write... long poems as well!    

Copyright © Demetrios Trifiatis | Year Posted 2013

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Tangled Vines

I walk along the old familiar path in the wood of my childhood - the place that I willingly abandoned for the lure of new friends and activities that carried me ever farther from my simple carefree days. Nothing here is quite the same, and all that once was large to my child’s eyes has grown small. How can it be? The houses on the fringe of this old wood are the same houses we always came upon as children as we ran - exuberant wild Indians of our enchanted forest - away from our foes and into the safety of “clearings” - those back yards of neighbors whom we never really knew. Our small legs ran so quickly down that well-worn long-ago path in the days when we were soldiers hastening to secure our forts. Other times we searched for treasures in the wood's crevices, finding - one day - bed springs, metal pieces, and old mattresses and converting them into contraptions for jumping. I tread slowly, noticing how many spots along my way are now overrun with weeds and tangled vines. How did I ever not notice there were vines here at all? They must have been well hidden off our path. Perhaps a kindly neighbor kept the pathway clear of them out of consideration for all us kids. I cannot know. . . It was so long ago. I glimpse the raspberry bushes we used to happily discover each summer when fuzzy berries showed brightly red and plump. And there’s old man Miller’s house, whose fence we used to climb so we might quickly steal the juicy apples fallen from his tree. Sadness tugs at my heart. The tree has vanished, and in the place of old man Miller’s shed now sits a swing set looking barely used. I head toward the center of this miniature forest recalling how it used to hold such grandness in my young imagination. The pond where we used to skate in winter has disappeared as well. In its place is a broad high pile of dirt, and at the north outer edge in the distance I can see diverse machines used for excavation. Maybe soon the wood will be cut down. Though small, this place was once so wondrous! I think back to our Christmas vacations, looking for the perfect little hill to drag our sleds up- and the thrill of barely missing trees as we slid back down. Everything was magical, crisp and clean. Suddenly I trip on tangled vines I’ve failed to see. The vines are stumbling blocks that have blotted out the utter charm this locale once held for me. You’d think that being smaller to my grown-up eyes, the wood would seem even simpler now. But no, it’s lost the grace of my simple and easy childhood days; It’s become a labyrinth of too lush plant life. I think how - like my complicated life - this old familiar place is decaying and is overwhelmed with all these obnoxious vines and how one day - like the pond and Mr. Miller’s apple tree - this dear wood will have vanished. inspired by events of my childhood and the contest of Constance la France and now for Caleb Smith's In the Woods Poetry Contest

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2013

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Pretty Flower in the Deep woods

VINEYARDS of HAPPINESS          ---------------------      GARDEN of SORROW

There is no greater Happiness,-----------when-----------Pulling away  sorrow
then being in my  lover's arms,-------letting go of----Broken memories 
Kissed by his  hungry lips,-------------------------------Rejecting all hunger, of love
spoiled by his sweetest charms.-----------------------The surface spoiled look in his face

There is no greater Happiness,------------------------Holding the depth of solitary sorrow
feeling my love's warm embrace,-----------------------Feelings of cold,no emotions on Gods grace
Meeting in our secret GARDEN,-----------------------Prolonging the visit to our VINEYARD
Opening dreams' golden gates.------------------------the door you open leads into dark woods

There is no greater Happiness,-------------------------Reviving every motion of sorrow
and there 'll never be ,for me,----------------------------trapped forever inside of me
till that far promised day,------------------------------------Broken promises day by day
My Honey  love s' here with me.------------------------a wound so fresh, damaged like a twig

            HAPPINESS  -------------------------to-------------------- SADNESS

Happiness to me,is as easy as can be,----------------Sadness triumphs over anything in me
a doughnut,a cup of English Tetley tea.------some nights----------A bucket of ice cream,a bottle of Jack Daniel
Lying on my beige leather sofa,------------some days-------------Slouching up against the wall
Covered by a Woolen red tartan rug,------------- tears fallen like a red river on the carpet
Hugging and Kissing,Fondling and snogging,--- some mornings ---Crying and Weeping,Wiping the Sobbing
Just watching T.V.------------------------------------------Just imaging you                                                                    

         THE  ROSE===============================WITHER

Love is a Pink Rose,--------------------------------------------A rose in the dark woods
with a crown of thick Grey thorns,--------------------------Like a cloud following you
delicate and strong.-----------------------------------------------Tilting till its gone
By ;Charma                                                        By : P.D.

inspired By : Charmaine Chircop            compose By : Poet Destroyer

~A Poet Destroyer Collaboration~

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2010

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I Believe All The Poets Here Write From Their Hearts

"Here is my secret. It is very simple: one sees clearly only with the heart. Anything essential is invisible to the eyes." "Le Petite Prince" Antoine De St. Exupery touch me and i'll touch you we don't do this on a whim measure twice cut once but always from the heart some use words rarely used in conversation let these wonderful poets tickle that market's fancy there are those knit you a scarf from yarns of clouds warm your day with a smile reflects the clean heat of a nineteen nineteen sun others who write you a poem you can share with a child visions painted in words cups of hot chocolate with those teeny weeny marshmallows children's grandiose proclamations of love with every sip for them the ambrosia of Gods confirmed by their laughter of joy you see hopscotch squares loosely drawn in chalk you see your daughter hear an echo for the first time some poetry does that conjures a thousand pictures of pure innocence also poetry that sings with rhymes that are natural, neatly placed in the story being told or sometimes the kind occasionally trips on the page love doesn't demand conditions sonnets neatly metered roll off the tongue or even if it twists a bit leaves you with a knot stick it out and laugh it straight easy as that we're here for each other people before words let's love each other just because we can touch me and i'll touch you we don't do this on a whim measure twice cut once but always from the heart Jan 14 2016 armand

Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2016

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A LullabyTo The Lost

Life and cigarettes burn to fast.
We waste are time.
So within the moment you bask.

A pretty face has to age.
Every story meets  it's final page.
When life breaks you over its cost.
Then you'll sing a lullaby to the lost.

The lights in the street hide all but the truth my 
You can act.
But you can never mask your  fear.

In dark rooms you sell all but your soul.
A wicked moment a stolen encounter.
All things take there toll.

That sweet face has tuirned hard your so warm 
to be cold.
A secret that the bitter have already told.

Can you wash away there stench as from 
the past you are tossed.
In dark corners blood stained angles 
sing a lullaby  to the lost.

Is this hell or a nightmare  that knows no end.
A cell to most.
To others the only refuge inwhich they 
can depend.

she falls to the floor a lost look needle  
in arm.
Most will rememeber a doomed fool.
Others her wreckless charm.

She was  a junkie  and a easy lay.
More bones are broken.
Over words others say.

She sold flesh but payed the ultimate
In a dingy corner of th world.
Were the angles sing a lullaby to the lost.

Copyright © John Patrick Robbins AKA Gonzo | Year Posted 2009

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On Poetry Soup

A first day on Soup is filled with much awe The wonderful poems will make you smile Easy is it to fall for all Some enabled my mind, lingering a while Just the few Soupers I mention here Will blow you away with works of this year! Janet Cervenka almost made us lust When she penned a piece on Heavenly's bust Marvelous is the diversity of Jan Allison Such a dressed gem, and she's only blooming Nandita then tells us that she's no Jan Indeed her craft is paralleled by none Man! the lyrics never cease to flow for Dave So highly endowed with a skill many crave You see, my first day on Soup I was greeted by SKAT Who so humbly laid down the welcome mat And if there exist a bond no man can put asunder I have to say it's between SKAT and Linda O! How can I forget 'Half of A Heart' A Sara Kendrick special, such design and art! Who better to mend our Broken Wings Than the namesake with a quill in full swing Yes Soupers always brighten my days Place me in velds full of beautiful haze And there I spot a Mystic Rose Defined so uniquely like a Kim Nunez prose From a consummation a lover was denied To the hautiness of a lonely man's pride Whatever we plan to glimpse or scoop We tend to leave with more from Soup

Copyright © Wilfred Aniagyei | Year Posted 2015

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Nobody Told ME

Nobody told me that the road would be EASY,
Believe ME.
With every BREATH,
I begin to feel one with DEATH.
Wondering why it’s not me lifeless in the GRAVE.
Wondering why my life is being SAVED?
The more I breathe in this world’s AIR,.
The more I seem to CARE.
The more than I APPRECIATE,
Every time I AWAKE. 
Every time I CRY,
Every fear I FACE,
I’m realizing I’m living NOW,
 for a purpose, while preparing MYSELF, 
for a better PLACE.
I do not know what tomorrow BRINGS,
But I know what today IS.

My tomorrow results from what I make of TODAY!
Today determines what my tomorrow may BRING!
Yesterday helps factors a fraction of my TODAY!

But nobody told ME!
The weight of the world would be carried by ME.
I knew it would be HARD,
but never did I think it would be this DIFFICULT.
I never thought I would actually loose so MUCH,
before I gain so LITTLE.
I never thought the little gain, would mean so MUCH!

I never realized how little I CRIED,
Until when I TRIED,
 		no tears would FLOW.
And when they started they would never STOP!
And when they stopped, the feelings would still REMAIN!

Nobody told me I would loose so many KEN.
Nobody told me I would loose several of my close FRIENDS.
Nobody told me I would feel so low DOWN.
Nobody told me I would be hurt by words SPOKEN.
Nobody told me my heart would be constantly BROKEN.

But even if they had told ME, 
all of this and much MORE.
It would have never prepared me to be the CHOSEN!

Copyright © Spidey Williams | Year Posted 2006

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Chocolate Fountain

Chocolate Fountain Abuse- for the lover 

How easily I forget I'm allergic to chocolate
I want to dip the exquisite kosher in a Spanish brandy
Sweet, sweet, cavity tarnish boxes of chocolate

At a store window; a dried up chocolate fantasy goblet
A taste of spoiled milk, nothing dandy with this candy
How easily I forgot I was allergic to chocolate

Snickers Bar, melting under the spotlight for-profit
Not edible, waging unassertive words like a pansy
Sweet, sweet, cavity tarnish boxes of chocolate

Chocolate pop, a candy bar coming out of the closet
There was not much bandy, about this candy
It's easy to forgot I'm allergic to chocolate

Stubby nuts, stomachache, bucket of vomit
Butterflies, flipping when I hear a faucet of cocoa candy
Sweet, sweet, cavity tarnish boxes of chocolate

Enrobed with small nuts, it dwells under the pocket
Caramel and peanuts American walnut vigilante
How easily I forgot I was allergic to chocolate
Sweet, sweet, cavity tarnish boxes of chocolate


Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2014

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- On The Right Side Of The Moon -

Loving you is easy as the heart sings into your heaven 
Come kiss me sugar before the snow melts

Stunning visions before the mirrors a flame sparks
As two white doves in eternal faithfulness weld us together 

Standing an adoring torch within a breathtaking ray of sunlight 
Dreams that were answered, within soft tenderness beauty and love

Always when you enter number one smiles 
Love's paradise ruby wine flows warm 

I will forever find you interesting sweet dreams 
as you make me forget everything that lies behind

Many moons searching distant horizons 
Coming out slowly from the light my dear

As I stared into the stars thoughts within you entered
Brilliant beauty a miracle dawns new horizons  
Darling captivating your precious light holds me 
Each time seeing you is like I have known you a lifetime beyond anything 

We travel down the starlit path only for eternity
Heaven's whisper creating our future and dreams


A Collaborated Poem 
Anne-Lise Andresen and Liam Mc Daid
(unrhymed couplets) 

Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2016