Poke and point and pince and prod
My penniless pockets
And a bra unable to uphold,
A breast to guarantee your rest
Lay in alleys in all your ailing worries
And sloughs of spittle
Splurged and purged b'neath your body.
Hold me, honour me,
Caress the cares entangled within my clumped hair
Harass the proficient proclamations of love,
Laying alongside my broken body.
I dare leer at the lies, leashing my soul to your life
For I do but believe
Boys breed bearded brawlers
And flesh too calloused to caress
And I vacate a vacuum
Of hands vying for the wet of my sex
And the sucking cumbersome succumbing
Salary, siezing a lustful lustre to shine 'pon my sultry gaze
I wrote your hair into a poem
And it looks like allium
I weaved my words into a tiny strand of hair just to get your beautiful design done
You made me write your name on sunflower ???? when i touched it
Yesterday was a better half of you
Today is a name that stands with you
Every line of your hair
Represent each stanza of my words
Every color you find admiring
Represent the smile that comes to me when i see you
I wrote your hair into a poem
And it looks like allium
wrote last poem months ago
will not write another so
guess i'll stick with good ol' prose
prosaic from head to toes
if i write anything now
post only me anyhow
no one need read this my trash
algorithms turned to ash
say no more of politics
theology only tricks
you into false contentment
lulls the brain like compliment
dulls the pain of resentment
makes our love hate's complement
wish not to over complain
but ennui's bored me insane
in world prefabricated
all new remains outdated
and what's real is really rare
but fake has millions spare
routine is the only route
for time space life to run out
replace me with a monkey
and you'll save beaucoup money
sorry if self pity's wrong
self regard's just not so strong
seems i've carried on too long
so i'll end this silly song
The Pensive Poet Poetry Contest. Sponsored by: Constance La France
By Poet "Oh yes, 100% human here. No AI for me."
Come let me tell you a story,
how writers once wrote.
They wrote from their loving hearts,
telling stories in different styles.
Some were rhymes or funny limericks,
verse was a favorite along with a tanka.
I find acrostic to be fun,
but taking more thought and time.
Today this new thing called AI,
is the new kid on the block.
AI has no loving heart to write with,
yet many readers have been blinded.
I put much thought and reflection,
into each poem for my readers.
A true writer writes because they love to,
also writing for their many readers.
The quill trembled on that day,
as hope defied an empire’s might;
their signatures lit freedom’s way,
a vow to guard the nation’s right.
As hope defied an empire’s might,
drums thundered through the winter air;
a vow to guard the nation’s right
was carried by the brave who dared.
Drums thundered through the winter air,
from frozen camps to fields of green;
was carried by the brave who dared
to shape a land where all stand seen.
From frozen camps to fields of green,
their signatures lit freedom’s way;
to shape a land where all stand seen—
the quill trembled on that day.
Last night when I went to bed
I thought about what I had said...
I was wrong,
so I sat down an wrote a letter...
your my love an only love
I want to go back as before...
knowing it won't be long till your...
sweet lips will cerass mine once more
oh my darling, can't you see
I need your love to eternity
I'll be true - so to say - to say- I love you dearly
is far better than just two words
YOURS FOREVER
If I wrote you a love song
-----------------------------
"I'm in love with you
do you know what that means
an intense romantic feeling
I can't keep you outta my dreams
a desire to be with you
I wanna hold your hand
if I wrote you a love song
would you understand
ooh-----------------------ooh!
my, oh my,ooh I do, I do, I do!
Trova in te la forza di amarmi
mentre sono completamente
immerso nei miei sentimenti;
il senso di appartenenza è
una sensazione meravigliosa
Se ti scrivessi una canzone d'amore
la canteresti tenendomi la mano?
Se ti scrivessi una canzone d'amore
mi lasceresti essere il tuo uomo?
Se ti scrivessi una canzone d'amore
Aint no lack of attention
I'm in love
you are the only one I am
thinking of
what's best for you is best
for me
Thats the kinda man
you know I'll be!
esigendo rispetto per la sua decisione di andarsene
I have never wrote a sonnet in my life
fourteen lines of iambic confusion
I’m not as poetically gifted
as Shakespeare or Petrarch
because pentameters and quatrains
are perfectly not my style
and too flat out antiquated for my liking
It’s rhyme schemes
always oppress me
line after line
stanza after stanza
as if I’m never allowed
to journey beyond
the black lines
while shading a picture
inside of a child’s coloring book
with a box of Crayola crayons
I wrote a little poem today
And put it in my pocket
Took it downtown with me
And sadly tried to “hawk” it
I got two eggs shells
Orange rind freshly squeezed
A muffled curse, a shaking head
The more I got the more I read
I took the poem back home with me
How strangely it was christened
With coffee stains and blueberries
It so proudly glistened
Perhaps I’ll write another one
Boldly stand and share it
With passersby and hangers on
Who neither love nor fear it
I wrote a little poem today
A butterfly set free
In reading it can’t separate
The butterfly from me
There must be a wall there,
electric eels scribble there, and rabbit holes
go deep into words.
Those words wrote themselves,
they must have climbed over the wall
leaving only off-white smears.
I am done speaking of it,
at least
until the next inexplicable moment
learns to speak for itself.
Walking in the same routine,
feels so awkward,
feels so mean.
Expectations high above,
unreachable sights you want to love.
Will you walk me to my grave?
Society feels so brave.
Manipulation is the key,
let us hear and let us see.
Tearing hearts and blowing minds,
tiny bit stressful in such times?
My little puppet, don't you shine,
you will follow and I will guide.
Your future's written,
don't you care.
We won't allow you to be fair.
Weakness is the thing we lie,
don't you dare,
but won't you try?
A Note
A Purpose
A Promise
Death will come to you
But who and why?
Murder to come
Watch your step
Look around to see who lurks
Suspicion forth
Suspense, murder came
Now for investigation
Victim stabbed lying in blood
Looking for clues
Shoe prints leading from the front door to murdered victim
The attacker knew the victim
Apparently, rage being involved
Broken glass and furniture
There was a struggle
Further into the clues
Speculation thought
A breakup in relationship
The Ex-boyfriend Tip
Warrant in investigation in Boyfriend’s house
Careful search
Looking for clues in question with evidence of mud on the Boyfriend’s shoes wore on the murdered victim site
The same footprints found at the murdered victim’s house
Arrest made
Murder case closed.
I wonder how the trees feel when their leaves finally blow away,
Or when the baby birds nesting there grow old enough to give their mothers chase?
Sitting under her shade,
Do old trees feel pride when they’ve reached their resting age?
Patiently waiting paladins,
There’s thunder in my mind that contemplates,
Why is it that you can’t help but be selfless for all the rest of your days?
Maybe I could learn something from the trees as I hide from the Sun’s rays,
A slumber under your protection,
I wish I could thank you to your face.
I’m thankful for your creation,
I’m thankful you’ve never asked for your thanks.
I’m thankful for your patience,
I apologise for your brothers,
Memorialisised in the planks.
Tranquil,
I humbly offer libation.
I’m grateful for you,
Thanks.
puzzled what to say
things aint going the way
the strings are supossed to be here
the strings should be here
there they are ,there they are
it needs something else
how you'd like being by yourself
there it is
hmmmmmm
ooh
ooh
the way it needs to be
got me feeling thangs
maybe it's the strangs
I like the way the basy groove is
that's the way it's gotta be
"le corna cornee" (kiss-kiss) marvelous
like it when they do that there
put it on
take it off
make it hard
it's way to soft
put itin
grind it down
you got get down
you gotta get down
it's the groove to make you move
it's that doubt that makes you shout
get in line
there's a doo-wee-doo thang
going on right here
ooh
I just wanna say
before you have it your way
I like it this way
you did all this for me
-------------------------------------------
dah- bow we bow why
stanza behind the clefs
you are
you are
whoomp;whoomp;whoomp
dah- yo doo we ah ooh ah
say that we ah-ooh ah
dah-say we
ah-ooh-ah
ooh ah-!
ooh-ah!
Whoomp;whoomp;whoomp;whoomp!
We licked ink from our open wrists,
a contract signed in salt and longing.
Our syllables stitched into sinew,
each verse a gash we chose.
You crawled inside my name,
built a cathedral from my echo.
I slept in your apology,
a pillow soaked with dreams that died in the cradle.
What is marriage if not mutual decay?
We baptized ourselves in entropy.
In every moan, a gospel;
in every silence, a dirge.
We made a sonnet of ruin,
willingly,
gladly,
dying syllables on each other’s tongues.
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