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 Nov 2018
Emma Elisabeth Wood
I discovered then
that love was not
the clenching of a
heart, or the pattern
of a pulse in
double time

but the
emptiness of
the seat opposite
you at breakfast

and the bitter taste
of coffees laced with
goodbyes
 Nov 2018
Traveler
This is not a poem
Oh how I wish it was!
I wish it could make you cry
I wish it could make you blush
Oh how I wish I could express my need for love

But this is not a poem
I'm just a writer
Alone
.....
Traveler Tim
 Nov 2018
Poetic Eagle
Haters: wake up dreams are
                 meant for sleeping
            
Me     : l will wake up when l get
            there
 Oct 2018
louise
sorry if our love feels like crisp new sheets,uncomfortable to touch,
unlike the ones you prefer to lay on
sorry if this love tastes too sweet,too cold like coffee left for hours on the counter along with a pile of ***** dishes,leftover promises,all the crumpled packs and labels
sorry if it became too convenient– reaching-for-comfort-food-in-the-cupboard-convenient, sorry if it became too easy, too frequent, too plain as consuming frozen dinner rolls and msg-soaked noodles,sorry if it became boring like tv shows reruns on Sunday nights,sorry if it became too much of a  routine rather than an adventure
sorry if this love sounds like a scratched indie record that's been overplayed,
sorry if the lyrics no longer speak to your heart as they should,sorry if it sounded better when somebody else played it for you
sorry if this love is a poem with no form,no rhyme
sorry if someone wrote it better,sorry if I'm just another boring book in the shelf,sorry if someone else had offered a far more interesting story
sorry if it became too much of a task,sorry if I became unwanted homework when the monitor and console were all you wanted to hold,
sorry if I had been reduced into one word reminders and ticking time bombs in your head,
sorry if I allowed myself to be divided into the least I could ever be
sorry if it seems like trying too much when I know very well I will always be less
sorry it had to start with an apology,
sorry it had to end with more pleas and sorry's
-W.
 Oct 2018
Keith Edward Baucum
After Lust watched her client leave her hotel room she picked up her communicator off the dresser and called Greed her **** who was also her husband.

"Hello Greed where are you?" asked Lust as she sat on the bed.

"I just arrived at the Blue Flame Hotel.  I'll be at your room soon" answered Greed.

"Ok Greed I'll see you when you get here" said Lust.

Lust got dressed and waited on Greed.  Within ten minutes there was a knock on Lust's hotel room door.  Lust opened the door and let Greed in.

"Where's my money?" asked Greed as soon as he entered the room.

"Greed you act like you don't trust me.  You promised to lay riches at my feet and put power in my hands" said Lust.

"Trust you? I do trust you but not a hundred percent" said Greed.

Written by Keith Edward Baucum
 Oct 2018
The Lenora
Bring me a dream
Of lavender and cream
As I fade away in
The childhood screams

I’ll take thee away
Where I too love to stay
Yet I chase my pleasure
To the end of my way

Follow me to a new world
Of tragic spells of magic
We haven’t any want
Rather a suspicious bond
Of hateful love for youth
written 2018 ©

by The Lenora.

All rights reserved.

{Inspired by Sarah from Hocus Pocus}
 Oct 2018
Donna
I walked in autumn
leaves this morning and they sang
a song to my feet
:) la de daaaaa :-))
Silly one x
 Oct 2018
Sienna
The sun does not hide
And the moon does not cry
As the Earth spins

For they do not belong in the same sky all their lives
They are just too special to be seen as one

So they let each other go
In hopes that someday
She would allow them to meet once more

But only after they realized
That they did not need one another to be special
They did that all on their own
I hope we meet again one day. If not in this life, maybe in another.
 Oct 2018
FormlessMars
Ode
Roses are red

Violets are blue

But roses aren't really red they're kinda this weird shade of apple

And violets are far from blue, they're actually purple

See these are the lies we tell ourselves so the rest of our stories make sense,

Like I keep telling myself that "I love you's" are best said in twos

But I think the chances of that these days are about as good as trying to find a violet that's actually blue so

In that case

Roses are apple

Violets are purple

Good luck trying to finish that one

Because my "I love you's" are lonesome.
My take on a classic
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