by Albert Ahearn |
lost love, on writing and words
Love poems, how trite they become.
Their hackneyed themes we want to scream.
We purposely shy away from
That genre, teeming so it seems
With grandiloquent, large supplies
Of conjured words with empty rings
Of cheating hearts and love that dies.
Ad nauseam is all it brings.
We wish just once that we could read
Where love’s expressed differently:
Brand new verses that supersede
Love’s banal themes in poetry.
Love-lost poems are sickening
But most of all they are boring.
by hell kat |
lost love, love
we are worn glass;
lungs shorn to a staple
of grammatical haste
that worsens when
inhaled by smoke.
He tells me:
believe in ghosts,
and always let
pride supersede you.
but I don't have much
faith to those
that only tell me
that time is ticking
right underneath rib bones
There's no lines
to read between,
and I lied when I said
it was fine, and okay.
you're a cheater.
And I simply say,
tell me you weren't asking for it.
by Mick Talbot |
fear, hope, true love,
‘LAST WORD’ POETRY LOVE'
it has transpired, my one true love.
I am possessed, writing poems,
words transcribed, my passion, my love.
Feelings for my wife, an omen,
that true peace, true love, can exist!
Extant life, lacks natural love.
Those that think it doesn't matter,
why look to the skies above?
Planet 'B', oh hopeful chatter,
that true peace, true love can exist!
Fear that greed will supersede love,
a normal life whence peace prevailed,
deeds of good, just a tiny shove
to show all, that what is entailed.
That true peace, true love, can exist...
by J. Jones |
She obsessed over everything inconsequential: the pots and pans, the cake batter, the
turkey and gravy.
She sent him out into the night to purchase various items, squandering precious time that
could have/should have been spent inside his arms, his heart.
She steered him towards sexual famine.
She failed to solidify her position making it ever easier for an interloper, another more
willing, more accommodating female to supersede her.
He had made mention of this/these persons standing in the wings.
He had a timeline.
She was overly tentative.
Love is not a spectator activity.
by Ngoc Nguyen |
art, beauty, love, math, philosophy, sin, truth,
What is Beauty? Is it Truth? Is it Art?
Or the shape of the Golden Ratio?
Whatsoever Beauty is, it does not show
in the proud and haughty, but in the heart
of them where love and charity take part;
it manifests in the wise, who all know
that hatred's a fault we must overthrow
to supersede with the logic of Descartes.
Behold! Beauty's what's perceived in the eyes,
where the light of grace and intelligence
mingles in proportions none can surmise.
Beauty is song, from whence comes the eloquence
of a bard, who, like a lark at sunrise,
with lips sings strains that rival spring's opulence.
by Charles Grisham |
How long have I felt this way
If it not for hope of a better day I'd be dead
And until that better day I'll be hollow
Empty from the love clishe
Have I not been deserving of such a desire
Or do I intend for a moment then leave
Either way it's a moment I'll adore
Subconscious fantasies throw smiles and laughter upon me
Confiding in myself I've dropped all I need
To get what I want, contagious
It spreads to them around to only supersede
Hardened threats with softened demeanors
Penultimate feelings seem to be
To those all around and within me
But they're still everything that matters in my world
by Joe DiMino |
independence day, love, patriotic, political, religious, tribute, wisdom,
Laws are the framework
for an orderly society –
we subject ourselves
to them, not because they
are perfect, but because
we realize and acknowledge
our own imperfections, and
a need to be governed
uniformly by something
outside the individual…
God gave us the Bible –
And our forefathers
guided by Heaven’s great
example wrote the US
Constitution; not to
supersede His Holy Worship,
but to affirm the Lord’s Presence
in the spirit of His rightly free
by Panagiota Romios |
Somethings are so special,
They just cannot be penned.
Like the true beauty of the
Or how profoundly the depth
and love of your man.
Somethings supersede imagery,
words or similes.
Too sacred to be written or
It's just you, leaning closely in
Whispering your life's personal eucharist!
*Greek origin. Eucharistia meant a giving
of thanks, gratitude, etc.
June 16, 2019