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T R Wingfield Jan 2020
I feel
like I died
a horrible, ****** death
at the hands of some great and terrible beast
with razor claws and gnashing teeth
that escaped its cage and pounced on me,
out of the shadows,
glinting eyes reflecting
fire from the wreckage left
by the mile-long circus train,
now derailed, after running into me

full speed.
"Oh my god... I'm never drinking again..." He said, lying to himself, and God, in agony. "You'd think I'd have learned my lesson by now."

Happy New Year!
Heather Jan 2020
Starting this New Years
off with a poem
a flourish of my 'pen'
I have no idea if it will be my last
or a continuation
of a single lifestream
hoping all will go well – at least
better than it's been
lose a few pounds
so I'll be light on my feet,
get my mind straight,
strong and sweet
grounding my emotions
with a focus on the goal
do some meditation that
will make me whole
This Mother of Intentions
is not paved to hell
it's a promise I make to God
so in truth time will tell
Praying for world peace
sending charity to some poor
shaking my fist along
just social movements
helping lift burdens
adding my light to a great light
of angels chorus in heaven
hoping this chance, a beginning
will not be an end,
but a reason to renew again.
A New Year's resolution.
Undead Nomad Dec 2019
Today I conclude
the last chapter of my life
but certainly not the final.
And for a moment
the world stood idle...

Contemplating my new future,
I cross the horizon
where retrospect inspires
forward-looking optimism.

My perspective has changed,
tweaked by others' aspirations.
Something grew inside me
by deep introspections
and as the clock ticked further
my resolve became firmer.

It tickles my soul
at how silly it seems
that I was once just
a clueless little seed.
But now I am planted
in the soil of my dreams,
ready to take root
and spring up with the reeds.

My doubts begin to wan
as I rise with a new dawn.
I pause to tell myself
I've no sins to absolve,
I must believe it to be true
to affirm my resolve.
Was a poem written for a new year's contest a long time ago. I thought it would be befitting to dust it off considering how close the new year is now
Marina Dec 2019
Its 3am
And you're still sleeping
I sit across with my eyes, all weeping
You lied about all the things you said to me.
Its January 2017
And I tend to fall on all my faults,
That you were never the right one for me.

It's almost the end of 2019
And I'm no longer in your sad story
I'm living, breathing, I finally found the one for me
I know I should never fall back with you,
Indecisive lies; your issue.
Nina Dec 2019
Every year,
I'd wish to find someone that wouldn't break my heart
But next year,
I'll wish for something different
I wish that I won't fall in love
Let me be free
And meet new people
Without catching feelings
Let me be heartless
Because im too tired
To suffer another year of heartache
Nat Lipstadt Feb 2018
the half-life of a resolution

~for maaidah durrani~

“your words really spoke to me and
i deeply encourage you to write more”
<•>
any resolution
barely lasts to the completion of its
flyby, tower-buzzing,
razzmatazz appearance,
colliding with the wall called
not today a/k/a,
tomorrow

tomorrow takes the lead pole position,
the conditional timing prepositional,
the delaying exscual misanthropic of
but one more,
whatever, it’ll keep for 24 more,
holding out the pretense of hope
for the resolute dissolute

sure, for sure, tomorrow,
will dissolve regret
tomorrow will write of poetry
but not a poem,
tomorrow will swear my
resolutions will be enacted
or, at least,
erased and re-written,
the oldest first when
re-added to the top of the list

tomorrow
will honor thy request
keep on writing for I’m no fool,
1200 plus poems, I’m yet a novitiate
I will keep your request as
one I’ve can never
cross off my life’s list

but tomorrow’s resolve,
be a better man,
leaner, briefer, kinder, a better lover,
sadly
the list has overrun the white pad,
the blue lines refuse another resolu....
M Vogel Oct 2019
The strongholds and fortresses within you
that have for so long, kept you apart  from
the healing has been waiting for you,
all along..
--even they have been longing for a love
that was strong enough,
unafraid enough, and fierce enough

to dismantle their intricate, inner workings..

Because,  even the fortresses  themselves
want to know what it is that real love feels like.
And stubborn and well-fortified, that they are--

    eventually even they bow down  on one knee,
                   to the fullness of love's true nature.

And so, that which once did all it could
to keep you away from the very thing
you needed most;   once disarmed,

would then become,  through your spirit's metabolizing
of it's at one time consolidated fragments,
love's  greatest  advocate.


I could just smile, and cover you
with smoothe words..

         but that would not be love;

 just the perpetuation of the same old  emptiness--
     the one that first did the  ****, so many years ago

And it is again, within the dismantling process
that the greatest desire for the ****,  
becomes manifest--
and I can either, attempt to completely destroy
your will to live, once the fortress comes down

or bless you with love's tenderness  until
you can become completely rebuilt

And you..

Half dismantled,  the fortress-- still powerful,
can acquiesce both your heart and spirit
into an indentured servitude;

Hell-bent, on the destruction of all things, life-borne.


Or we can both allow love to help us,  each  
choose  to let go of the evil-impulse,
and allow it's unholy nature  

to become absorbed  into all things, loving;
into all things, beautiful.


Disarm you with a smile
and cut you like you want me to
cut that little child
inside of me, and such a part of you
Ooh, the years burn
Ooh, the years burn

I used to be a little boy
so old in my shoes
And what I choose is my choice
What's a boy supposed to do?
The killer in me is the killer in you
my love

I send this smile over to you
https://youtu.be/3oD0B8MqG60
Nigdaw Jul 2019
This year clothes me like an old coat
Worn at the elbows, with saggy shoulders
A smell that suggests more wears than washes,
***** tissues and receipts filling pockets
A tear in the lining from a drunken fall,
A tear of pain from an emotional fool
Wiped on a sleeve to preserve my masculinity.

I need to shed this year like a skin
As a spider, a lobster, a snake in the sun
To outgrow and move on from restrictive tissue,
Embrace the world as new again,
Fool myself on New Year’s Eve
I emerge like the butterfly from its cocoon
Reveal my flamboyant new wings,
To kid myself I am reborn.
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