You've been to every tearoom,

you've dragged her out on the square...

Her cheeks are red as a rag-doll;

still blind you head for the glare

of bright lights, famine, and handshakes...

Your quick to pass her around...

She's dipped in shadows for seconds,

before she kisses the ground...

I keep my love out in the cold...

So discreet, underneath a stone...

I keep my love beyond where they will go...

I keep my love out in the rain...

You run 'round smashing windowpanes...

I keep my love tucked down beneath the loam...

There's not one face you would cling to...

You're always out on the run...

She's taught performance on impulse;

while you keep drawing the gun

on any flesh that you fancy...

A pliant and yielding array...

She's only mingled confections

to sample 'fore you'd amscray...

I keep my love out in the cold...

So discreet, underneath a stone...

I keep my love beyond where they will go...

I keep my love out in the rain...

You run 'round smashing windowpanes...

I keep my love tucked down beneath the loam...

©

12/18/21

Bunny Villaire

I voice out alot

about how much the words

I write hunt me.

Truth be told

they save me from

the worst that I can become,

unfailingly...

I wish I could block the tap,

that ever gushing feeling

of vile temprament

hidden in my loins.

Strangle my imperfections

and drown my pride

in a shallow lake.

The clarity is overwhelming

when the words go out and flourish.

Not too long the cloud appears,

my inner word bank

get swollen and rich with Pus

waiting for me to caress it edges,

gently,

one sharp sentence opens the lock.

The magma spreads from one plantation to another.

This and much more is what thinking of you makes

me unleash.

I was the first published poet.

I have been here since the inception. I write about love, depression, loss, and anxiety.

Then I became commercial and bestowed the benefits of keto and CBD testmax.

I know you have seen my work. I use images of sylphs and nymphs to draw you in.

I fill the spaces between what you want and what you find; I apologize not for such work.

You want substance, but only find frivolity.

Not in magnitudes to promote withdrawl or antagonism, more toward a quiet seduction.

I guard the gems you seek. You will return of your own volition.

It is written.

And I have written it.

You state that some have already said their goodbyes.

Walked into the sunset. Embraced an early forever.

Those with a tepid curiosity only seemed to establish residency here.

One post does not a Proser make.

These barely cast a shadow, barely consuming a single breath.

Never to be remembered, thus never to be forgotten.

Others meander as a wisp of smoke.

Noticeable to those who concentrate their senses at the right moment, at the right time.

Numbering too few to inventory.

Then there exists the steadfasts, filing early claims, perpetually grubsteaked.

The fruits of their labor see the light of day.

But even the most fertile of minds eventually encounters an equal and opposite reaction.

A block so severe preventing contact betwixt pen and parchment.

I need only await the conclusion of their struggle.

Most will succumb. Others will forfeit retainers on their muse. The statistics are certain.

In the end, I will remain standing.

Awaiting challenges from afar from challengers never arriving.

time and tide wait for no man.

Except for me.

A price I must pay for a victory I must have.

but there are some things you can't control, especially when you're fifteen and scared

fifteen and lonely

fifteen and powerless

fifteen and overwhelmed.

because there are so many things wrong with the world and the people in it and i

don't know how to fix a single one of them.

If you listen carefully to the soft voices around you, you will hear things of great value. It's easy to get distracted by the loud voices. Yet, it takes a style of patience to hear what many people don't take the time to listen to. We all face formidable obstacles. As well, the resources within you to overcome whatever darkness is consuming you or whatever comes your way. Keeping a favorable outlook helps find your way out of the chaos with grace. Hangout with yourself a little, and allow wisdom to rise. You will always remain stronger than whatever's facing you.

Today I lived,

and I survived,

While other beings who had misfortune might have died,

How a wonderful blessing is it to be alive,

and take every chance you have for change so that you may thrive.

#poetry #motivation #inspiration #life #poems

©Alipoetry, All Rights Reserved.

We keep breaking glass

The mug in the kitchen

The mirror in the bedroom

The candle in the bathroom

The light in the office

We sweep

Wet mop

Dust the corners

And still, my feet bleed

Overcoming writer’s block might be a difficult thing to do, particularly when one has a strong desire to write. Which might seem like a paradox, but it is not: the trick, I think, is to just allow yourself to be in this phase of lack of inspiration, during which your psyche, maybe in a subconscious way, tries to come up with a solution and a very good idea could emerge at some point, if you remain relaxed. But we use to push ourself and therefore accumulate an unnecessary pressure which, in reality, makes your brain to flounder and take more time to do his job, which is counterproductive and something we tend to avoid, and, doing so, the tension only grows and we are in a bigger pickle...

So how not to be caught in such a vicious circle? We just should not ponder too much or, ideally, not at all, which is a very rare, transient state of mind. The first step could involve stopping to call it a “block”, but only a pause for reflection. And who knows if what you come up with after hours of consideration and hesitation, so little and unimportant as it could appear, although hardly earned, isn’t better than what you get effortlessly and rapidly? I guess it will stay an unsolvable mystery unless the machine permitting the alternate dimensions travel is invented.