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Poetry and whatnot

13 hours ago. Feb 16, 2020, 7:01 PM

She grew up in every wrong place

She's dirty, her makeup is not grace

She's a switchblade, knife razor sharp

Not gentle strings, no strumming harp

Her wit and sarcasm, it all drips

Hers are not pink and pouty lips

She's no flower or demure petal

But rather made of steel and metal

No sugar coat, just straight bottom line

She has surpassed life number nine

Heavy penetrating, sometimes reflective 

Intricate, profound, complex, so effective

There is no bottom to her stone well

She's a free fall, straight down to hell


3 days ago. Feb 14, 2020, 2:34 AM

She takes the devil and his sinister ways and puts them to sleep with her grace.

He walks hard, but she walks heavy taking his chaos and making it steady

Matthew J. Cooper

4 days ago. Feb 12, 2020, 11:16 PM

Then she said "Never fear love because you'll never find it, you are far too damaged.  I know this because I'm too damaged too." She handed me the cigarette and laid her head on my chest. I stared at the ceiling, "What do you want me to do..." She slide up my body and kissed my mouth. . ."I want you to hurt me."

Michael Xavier

5 days ago. Feb 11, 2020, 9:52 PM

Her art reflects experience street smarts.

It's bloody outside a desecration of hearts.

Murder mayhem, life at point blank range.

On her face, scenes of emotional change. 

Her screams screech straight out wise.

Her vocabulary defines the word rise.

She's a quick strong punch to the gut.

With a razor tongue, she can cut. 

If you're looking for something sweet.

She's not a candy store type of treat. 

Michelle Lee Gagnon

6 days ago. Feb 11, 2020, 4:33 AM

Pruning is the way I choose to expose

The myth of reality

I am always trying to be a good story

Writing is the ongoing act of forgiving & apologizing 

To the women I use to be

I stare at myself in the mirror for hours

As if watching a television show

I soak in a bathtub of my flaws

Until they prune into art.

Blythe Baird


I love how poetry has its own way of allowing someone to express themselves without fully letting all of ones thoughts escape. 

6 days ago. Feb 11, 2020, 1:44 AM

I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself. 

A small bird will drop frozen from a bough without ever having felt sorry for itself. 

D.H. Lawrence 

6 days ago. Feb 10, 2020, 1:17 PM

Let me not to the marriage of true minds

Admit impediments. Love is not love

Which alters when it alteration finds,

Or bends with the remover to remove.

O no! it is an ever-fixed mark

That looks on tempests and is never shaken;

It is the star to every wand'ring bark,

Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.

Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks

Within his bending sickle's compass come;

Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,

But bears it out even to the edge of doom.

If this be error and upon me prov'd,

I never writ, nor no man ever lov'd.

William Shakespeare 

1 week ago. Feb 9, 2020, 11:38 PM

The only people for me are the mad ones,

the ones who are mad to talk,

mad to be saved,

desirous of everything at the same time,

the ones who never yawn or say a common place thing,

but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars.

Jack Kerouac


1 week ago. Feb 9, 2020, 12:08 PM

Walking alone, and what do I find?
A handwritten note, unloved and unsigned.
Curious to me, curious as it was read…
Curious enough for me to share what it said:

Come one, come all,
Be the one to watch it fall!
Something so… surrounding.
It’s really quite confounding.
Not the ship that cannot sink,
(Which lies on oceans floor)
Nor the eye that never blinks,
(A million times before.)
A bald-faced lie, a vibrant truth,
As ancient as the Fountain of Youth.
The RUIN, my love, of you and me!
A colossus left in a rubble heap.
A paragon of… untimely dues.
Neither true or false for us to choose.
Watch it now, the end of day,
Both clouds and sun passing away.
Shhhh… share this silence with me, and whisper,
Lest the crisp air hear us and get even crisper.
…But HERE! My friend, I do not care!
Let everyone hear us and see what’s there!
Not a **** thing, no, no special view;
The ruin is me, the ruin’s in you.
You may ignore my words, close your eyes,
But..hear this.
It weathers eternally behind your closed lids.

I looked around me, and saw no trees,
Nor the ocean, nor the skies the birds once flew in…
Just the foundations of ideas,
Just the stones of the Ruin.

Lacee Schafer

1 week ago. Feb 8, 2020, 2:28 AM

Everyone who knows me knows I hate staying anywhere but home unless it is with someone I'm messing with. Unfortunately, it has snowed so much where I live that I have had to stay at someone's house to make it to work at 4a.m. Only thing that saved the evening is they provided food and a touch alcoholšŸ· Maybe one day I'll find my home in another human being and not just a place I lay my head.


“Amid pleasures and palaces
though we may roam,
Be it ever so humble,
there's no place like HOME.”