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Ces Jun 2021
Magic oftentimes
Come from the sickest minds

And poetry

Born from the aches
Of loneliness

Write...

And make some lemonades
Out of the aridity
Of this life.
It’s a constant battle between gold and stone in my chest.

One likes to hold a sword to the dark with the whole city at his back.

The other makes warning bells of paper mâché .

Where I come from we’re mostly dare devils.

We cook food on open flames next to a gas tank and race on bridges with no rails. Only one of those is real.

My mind sometimes seems like a doll house made of old computer processors. Attempt 79.

Most days I try to keep my lips zipped shut but my eyes are like a see through body bag.

On other days music tends to be good enough superglue for broken masks.

I remember the first time time froze and my heart tried to handwrite on the ice.

I tried to draw her attention with the broken lead pencils I have for lips but I’ve never been a fine artist.

We haven’t spoken in a while, I guess making new friends is easy but keeping old ones is hard. 
There’s overgrowth on the road less travelled and it’s hard to find.

And when I feel down for following the crowd, I use poetry as a pendulum to help my mood swing.
Sprishya Aug 2017
It has to be better than this
The lemonades are turning to dust
Silverlinings have all rained down
Life's got to be bigger than this
The flower that once was
Now a thorn sharper than dead dreams
Stabbing all hope
This dark vacuum is ******* me in
I'm holding on to the last beam of light
But my grip is slipping and I'm scared
Aren't things supposed to work out?
Well begun is now all undone
(Los Angeles, Aug 22 2017)
nv Aug 2013
The cliches are all too familiar,
With their sappy glow and clean cut truth

I still live with her smile
But I roll my eyes at sappy rom coms
And change the channel at the kiss

I live for the moment
When I see you
Eyes drifting
When we have strawberry lemonades that are half frozen and turn our lips pink
And we can't breathe because we're laughing too much

I'm irony wrapped up
And tied with a silver ribbon
You can't fight biology
But you sure as hell can try


n.v.
RAJ NANDY Jun 2016
Dear Poet Friends, this short poem was composed during the Summer
of 2010, and posted on ‘Poemhunter.com’. Hope you like it. Thanks.


WHEN YOU CATCH THAT FEVER!
When the body temperature exceeds the normal,
You know you have got the fever on you.
High fever can get you in a delirium,
And even inside the ICU!

One must guard oneself from the Summer’s sun,
Take precaution from exhaustion and heat.
Wear dark glasses and use a parasol,
And sun-tan lotion makes the picture complete.
‘Prevention is half the cure’, is an old saying which
is true!
With cool butter milk and iced lemonades, -
You can keep that heat off you!

Now there is another type of fever, more potent
than that ‘Swine Flu’!
It can strike you anywhere and anytime,
And you cannot take adequate precautions too!
When your heart starts to beat faster, -
And a fever rages all inside.
You get melancholic and delirious, -
When someone calls the doctor by your bedside!
But when no temperature gets recorded,
And the doctor looks all concerned!
For you have caught the 'Love’s Fever', -
Oh, what a lovely way to burn!
                                     -Raj Nandy, New Delhi

(Comments from Fay Slims, a senior & a veteran poet from
Cornwall, SW England:-  “Raj, catching that fever is never
avoided by those who have given their heart!”)
Meggn Alyssa Feb 2014
Across the world
At 1:30 tomorrow
There is a place set for me
By a girl I've never met
In a house I've never been in
Next to people I've never heard the names of

But she greets me with open arms
And shows me off to her friends
We sit down with cakes
and lemonades
and teas
and ridiculous hats

And it feel like home
Martin Narrod Apr 2017
brown-outs and in and out from blacking out
this kingdom of cloth, yachts, canvas dogs baring oil and a glass full of scotch, yonder the dogma of breaking out. This is a bank robbery, a fight so let's break it up. Baking club. Two cups of brown sugar, four cups of flour, two packets of apple sauce, vanilla extract, chocolate chips, two sticks of butter, come on now and stir it up. Things are stirring up. Flower petals and Hawaiian Punch, gardenias, orchids, a yellow top, blue jeans, and a green house walk.

California. Top-less, top-down convertible, brief rain on sunny days, and Urth Cafe for lunch. Valet parking on Melrose and window shopping with Snoop Dog at Rick Owens just to stir it up. While some things blur, all the best and brightest with their young supple ******* get together, eat lsd, just to sieve our cells so we can watch as the day is slurring us. Our words and our dance cards are hurting much. The drive to the desert while the beat brings us together and the Santa Ana's blow the pollen from the coast towards the Getty and it seems that our allergies aren't cured enough.

Two homemade lemonades in mason jars seem to me too ****, but to the youth it's the heat that packs the punch. An ounce for three hundred is way too much, on and on like an Indie song goes, Hot Chip and our Captain, we ride the Pacific Ocean while our skins tan under the heavy sun. One woman for me if it's you, is the best, and quite enough. So write your book about sailing a 12' Sunfish through the archipelago when you were four years old, and I'll edit myself into our narrative, use a paddle if the wind won't lift the main sail, and we can try to get home before the water swallows us. Blend the tropics with the fruit, and sneeze while facing the sun, if it's too much we can use Jet Skis and let the current bring us back to the coast one by one. Don't stop or drop the beat, don't worry because we've parked for free, so long as our batteries don't die, our flashlights will lead us home, it's a miracle to you, but just a number and a ticket to me, this is where the fun has just begun. Stirring it upside down, like a glass sailboat in a bottle and a love letter bleeding in salt water, have your romance but keep the sand out of our sheets, it's not like it's our bed, so we can't just have our fun.

I've taken a photograph. Way down in Alabama. Far into the delta where there's no cell signal, and the blues plays through our guitar, if you can do the harmony, I can sing for fun. It's not easy, the sound of our friends dying, drowning, in the despair their disease has overrun. But if we double our dreams, tear our skins and skip the streamers, blow up the balloons and catch the murderers that killed our son.

We can watch from the coast, stand at the top of the plateau, throw rocks into the cove, and free ourselves from a funeral that halves each other thru the mid-life synthesis we've been putting ourselves through, we can count, use the buddy-system and whistle loudly, fuse our genitals and flirt in a party that's just me and you, you might find that there's still fun for us, and this insanity isn't real, it's just a surrealist manifesto that in this earthquake we've just been painting our paths into. We've just begun to believe what isn't really grief but ought to be an afternoon or hunting and traveling at a grueling pace, with meager rations, there's not a snake bite I wouldn't be willing to **** the venom out of you, I'm just hoping you'd be willing to **** the venom out of me in time before I'd have to ask you to.
Audrey Lipps Oct 2014
Graffitied, empty shadows cross the street
holding no one’s hand in the dead daylight
Tough little boys bullied into men
on brickroad neighborhoods
built for the needy

Abstract Gala supermarkets
Opening their doors for those with
thick rimmed glasses and high waisted jeans
but closing for the needy

Black spray painted letters on gray garage doors
expressing angst and boredom in a self-made city
Inked grotesques and broken glass lemonades
scattered gently along the road we call home

Watered down tomato soup dinners
that feed six but meant for  two and we’re
crouched along swaying bridges
when lights of the stadium
blind across the street

Brooklyn anticipation,
dreams of howling wolves and pines swaying
Brooklyn anticipation,
Brooklyn solitude
L O Jun 2013
I do not want love;
I want escapades.
Don’t need warm milk;
I want hard lemonades.
Please no shared sheets;
Just a sleeping bag for one.
And no tiny feet;
I’ll be mother to the rising sun.
No blue skies;
I want green lightening and glittering stars.
No diamond things;
I only want rings from hot cider and skidding cars.
I hadn’t thought of you in years.

To be honest, I put you away in the box of memories of people I simply longer cared for, put the hurt into the deepest part of my soul and laughed the anger away while my best friend and I made plans for matching bathing suits and making lemonades for another summer barbecue we could fondly look back on. It was 3 am and the guy you told me I wasn’t allowed to be friends with, was laughing with me outside of a Taco Bell I knew you hated going to. We were talking about the letter your ex wrote him and I suddenly remember how much you hated your ex.
But *******, if you two weren’t meant for each other.
I mean, you are basically the same person, same narcissistic, view, same letters where you blamed others when you should have seen what was in front you.  It was through laughing, I realized, I don’t miss, I never missed you to begin with. The day you told me I was a bad friend, a bad person, a person who moved mountains for you and was crushed under the weight, I realized, you gave me the freedom was looking for. I was heart broken at first, but then I realized friendships aren’t made from how many years you have known someone, they are made from meeting someone and feeling like you knew them a lifetime. Friendships are unconditional love and respect, something I hadn’t felt the first time you insulted me. I guess what I’m trying to say is, enjoy my Instagram, it’s public and I know you still talk **** about me cause that's just the kind of bitter lemon you are, the kind people leave behind at the Farmer’s Market.
Animesh Ganguly Nov 2016
Sometimes, one of these days when it rains,
I want to sit by the window sill,
And read her my favourite book,
And watch her wonder at the rain drops

But before there were rains,
There had been a summer,
Never the same, but this,
Not quite like any other

Sure not like her first
When she’d crawl more and walk less,
Garble more and talk less,
Yet each time her lips parted,
She brought me a feeling uncharted.
A myriad, not one, I’ll always be swarmed
She’ll giggle away and I’ll be disarmed

In summers to follow,
She’d put on her school dress,
Wave out to me
Like a sun in her prowess,
Then there was a period when she sketched,
That was also the time she started caring for her tress

Season changed, and cold was common again,
To give her company, I too would feign a pain,
She had started dancing now,
Sometimes I’d shake a leg too,
Solving her math problems,
I’d learn some math too
But there were lessons,
A little few on hope too
Because that’s how I kept up,
I could’ve given up too

And then came the last summer,
The one that was unlike none,
We drove around a lot,
And stopovers for lemonades were fun

Last summer, our car broke down a lot too,
Fixing it was hard, but fixing it was what we had to

Soon, she took to a habit,
That of me fixing it for her,
So, when doctors took her to the Operating unit,
She said, my daddy would fix me sir

Who was to say what Daddy could do?
He was no doctor, had only hope to cling on to
The hope that he had taught her,
Today was Daddy’s test,
One he couldn’t falter

So that’s what I have been telling you,
Now you tell me something too,

Sometimes one of these days when it rains,
Should I not want to sit by the window sill?
And read her my favourite book?
Should I or should I not?

Want to watch her wonder at the rain drops again.
Tina RSH Oct 2017
Let the child breathe and the warm air flow
This tragedy needed an end, we were too young
To shoulder a battle devoid of arrows and bows
Pity our play, meant short, already took long
We lost precious blood to tie up a loose end 
Rewritten distorted meanings of sadness and pain
Bitter Loss over gain so we could make amends 
We fast fed the pain, all we felt left, the main
Let the sweet lemonades drain and burn away 
We played possum to ourselves and died for real
What killed us was a trick, what kept us at bay
Was the solidity of death that couldn't be healed 
Yet, by some misfortune  I kept an eye open
To see these corpses walk every now and then. 
 
26.10.17
afteryourimbaud Feb 2017
It feels like
you just came
and visited me
yesterday.

The lemonades
and Anna Karenina
left open
on top of
the coffee table
waiting for us
to drink it
till there is
not a single drop
and for us to read
to debate
and to fight over
before we close it
and go through
another tale.

But you are not here
as the table
has been left
unattended
long time ago.
It was not
there alone
just like the day
we dragged it home
from the waste bay
and stationed it
at the center
of the hall.
It was full of mess,
dirt and marks
I can't hardly see
any signs
of love and
happiness
and pride,
the same feelings
we used to have
on it.

We used to run
to the grocery
down the corner
and laughed at
all the flattery
over the dinner
We used to kick
all the jittery
over the thunder
and shoved
the maturity
down the throat
but now we are
slowly getting
used to be like
a stranger
like a feather
off the duster
fly separately
on its own
to meet the final
destination
of its soul.
you are
no longer
here with me
to encounter
the thunder
as the lady luck
choose to
smile on you
and I fall into
the lethal oblivion
that stays longer
than the morning dew.

You may have
long gone
perhaps to the
end of the world
or to the center circle
of the endless whirl
it might be forever
or just like
the stay with me
that ends
prematurely,
but I hope
you know that
you will always
reside in the back
of my mind
at the bottom
of my heart
permanently.
Move to a faster blade, swift ears, catch the musical, serenades,
It's like dollar stand lemonades, prices laid, we being played,
Amongst the *****, of confusion enrolled, out the institution,
So many using, the youths mind for their, own boosting,
Soft society, eyeing me, but what about the, forged legacy,
The boomers, setting the degrees then, blame the economy,
Millenials and Gen Z, but I see the pies, of piece, cold release,
Shots of fire, see the flash of a Messiah, am I reaching higher,
My conscious desires, the better things in life, void the strife,
They say, I was born with three strikes, slash like nikes,
Take my bike, every where I go, to take a look, at the globe,
Sun, looking like a fiery disco, as slow sip, the mojito,
Feel the stings in my mojo, soon to be in slow, mo let the cycle,
Break every, evil scenario, ice cream seen, a blind man cling,
Onto the sights, of happiness, and there I planted, fist, so crisp,
It's hard to break, a wishlist, drink malt liquor, til I ****,
Out the verses, viva la worses, bella bella nutella, rock modellas,
Helter skelter, put on the face of map, bold words all caps,
See victory collapse, thought the world, was gonna relapse,
Perhaps, I'm just in my own destiny, the pains, dreading me,
Carefully, watch the swiss watch, ticks n tocks, see the stocks,
Of heartbeats, getting ready to drop, corona, still at the top,
Never ending, folks pretending, Dean Koontz, gave ya an incision,
Brains is lynching, folks claiming they, players but benching,
Stings, of the golden bronze, honey blondes, sitting under cons,
Rebel X, my rolex, I thought the world, was involved round ***,
Mic check, see what's next, too many folks, guilted plex,
It's too much, stress , to be going round, around downtown,
With julie, yeah she's a cutie, babygirl, knows the duty,
Cant keep a chick, if she's unruly, sounds of the toolie,
Streets of rage, so many feelings in a cage, outrage, crazed,
By the medias, black propaganda, take a deep, gander,
Amongst, the seas of chaos, squids leeching, a coin toss,
Equals rights, ain't nothing a but a plight, to ****, civil rights,
Man down, stand down, hold my *****, with Ebenezer crown,
Six feet in the ground, there I lays, keep my legacy, in stays,
Twenty guns, salute with the liquor to finish,the final scoop,
Rejoicing, with the demons and angels, in every angle,
Of light, to darkness heights, saw Michael and Raphael,
Holding chariots of hell, see how the earth fail, ahhhhhh hell,
There I stare, with a cigar lit, waiting at the gates, of jail,
Am I still alive, even in the perdition, or is just another fairytale,
PARTY ON @ Brisbane bowling trip day 11

Today was a very awesome day
We started just having breakfast
And then brushing our teeth
And heading down to catch the two public buses
To the pier to aboard the lunch cruise on the Brisbane river
We got on the boat, and for the people who wanted alcoholic cocktails
That wasn’t good, so instead they had to have a mocktail
Which is a non alcoholic cocktail
I had two blueberry lemonades
And the buffet meal was ever so nice
And so was dessert as we sailed up and down the river
We took some photographs and videos
And the boat rocked and rocked
But none of us was sick
Then we got off the boat and caught the two buses home
And on the bus there was this schizophrenic or ICE sufferer
Getting really anxious, poor guy
Because we all crowded up the bus, which was his space
Then he got up, but he got anxious when he thought
The back door wouldn’t open
Then the bus let us off, and we had two hours to get ready
For the celebration Hawaiian night dinner
Then we all had our calypso Hawaiian on
And it took 50 minutes to get there
And when we got in there, there was a big
Line for the drinks, and when it was my turn
I bought two glasses of lemonade for $9-00, ****** rip off
And we were the first table to get the buffet main course
And it was ****** amazing food
And then we had a dance and got a few photos of us near the
Hawaiian poster, a nod then they drew out the lucky door prizes
Which out of the wizards bowling league, me and Jarrad and tony won
Nobody else, but it would’ve been fun whether we won that or not
Then after that we had dessert and when it was our turn
The cool music, we will rock you and we are the champions came on
And buddy, we were loud, but we were enjoying ourselves
And a lot of people shoved the dessert down their cake hole
And danced, and I got a good video of them dancing to nutbusb city limits
And then the Macarena and TNT and we left singing who let the dogs out
As I said in the title, PARTY DUDES
Then we got home after a 30 minute ride
And we went straight to bed😌😌😌😌😌😌😌😌😌😊😊❤️❤️❤️
Laura Feb 2019
When will I be held so deeply,
that I lose sight of my own two arms?
Sipping up my seems and loss ends,
burning last words on my hard shoulders.
Heavy that you are passive to me,
but I pull you in on each breath.

I take you in with my long strides too,
and double shot pink lemonades.
I’m sorry that I am not gentle for you,
but I’m mostly sorry that I know better.
Because if there was a way to make you love deeply,
I’d have sent you the deposit by now.

— The End —