Lovelorn Poet in Brooklyn, NY: In Syria

March 19, 2014 by lovelornpoets

Entrance for Souq Al Hamidiyya – Damascus by Khalid Almasoud

Missed Connections in Brooklyn

In Syria

As real as a gutter ball we fall strike three
into the dirt and forever
hurt

it’s been 3 years of dust and pain
filled with broken hearts
and dirty
rain

and i heard him say freedom
is just another
word

in a car commercial, before
he was inadvertently
tossed

and forever lost somewhere
between a memory
and
nowhere

Her Two Cents

Mindgallery revisits his “Accidental Carmelization” poem (which was widely circulated and commented on when I first found it on the Brooklyn feed in 2011) to speak to the seemingly never-ending violence and horror in Syria. Khalid Almasoud’s 2005 photo of the Souq Al Hamidiyya in Damascus is exquisitely lush and peaceful; detailing a brief moment in a beautiful day. I cannot bear to search online to see what it may look like now, nearly 9 years later.

Lovelorn Poet in New York, NY: I Will Write To You Every Day

March 14, 2014 by lovelornpoets

Mixed Media Painting (Detail) by Choichun Leung

Missed Connections in Manhattan

I Will Write To You Every Day

I feel everything so much.
Sometimes it’s overwhelming
The happiness that makes me cry
The sadness that brings me to silence
The tears that well up when I see an act of love

I can’t be afraid to allow love into my life
I have to give it freely and without fear
Love without fear
Just the thought brings on panic

Everyday that passes
I know you’re getting closer
Maybe you’re here already

I know that only when I learn to love without fear
And not be afraid to feel
Then, will you emerge from the mist of constant hesitation

I am a woman. Not so young, but not so old. I love life. And I love people. I love everything this world has to offer.

And one thing that is missing is someone to share that with. And I have been foolish. I have been foolish throughout my life, and careless with people and relationships. I have taken things for granted and not realized what I had until it was gone.

So, I am convinced that I must have met you, but not realized that you were the one. And so, I will write to you every day until we meet again.

Starting today January 12, 2014, I will write to you every day and let you know that I am here and that I want you to share my life.

One day, maybe I will share yours…

Her Two Cents

At the start of the new year, this letter and poem appeared on the NYC feed. I was immediately intrigued and curious to see if our anonymous writer would communicate more and how this creative and personal project might evolve. A few additional messages appeared over the following days, and then, like many a New Year’s resolution, faded away never to be heard from again. Did our poet find their love? Did they give up altogether? Did they decide to use more traditional avenues like online dating and Meet-up groups? All we have left is the original intention. What came of it we’ll most likely never know.

Lovelorn Poet in Savannah, GA: Romance Novel

March 10, 2014 by lovelornpoets

10 items (myself included) by Darwin Bell

Missed Connections in Savannah

Romance Novel

Today, I found
a romance novel laying on the floor
in the laundry room. On the illustrated
cover, a chiseled, shirtless man, sat
bareback on a tall white horse against
a backdrop of the rising sun; while
below him, a barely-clothed ravished
woman lay asleep in the long grass.
Maybe, they are doing laundry as well,
I thought.

__Bison Jack

Her Two Cents

Sometimes, finding the perfect Flickr Creative Commons image to accompany a poem results in extreme joy – and that was the case today, with these complementary pieces from Bison Jack and Darwin Bell. Not only is it wise to refrain from judging a book by its cover, but it’s also good advice to see what’s on the pages inside the cover. (Is Jean Cocteau a front for a hidden Harlequin Romance novel?) Chiseled chest or no, everyone has to deal with their own fair share of dirty laundry at some point.

Lovelorn Poet in Las Vegas, NV: Words

March 7, 2014 by lovelornpoets

Words by Nathalie Babineau-Griffiths

Missed Connections in Las Vegas

Words

words
don’t have any borne in anger
nor particularly sad
just resigned
grown people surprised
when pricked by thorns, even as they play in the bramble
looking for sweets

like waiting to die
the promise of seamless perfection
eyes focused on heavenly reward
overlooking the magic
that boils like dust around footsteps

benchmarks like clockwork
terrible twos: the power of no
adolescent rite of passage
bar mitzvah, quinceanera
third degree burns, debrided
pick and choose the slices of me
that you would dispense with…
and who am I then?

crystal ball into the past
quick temper walks away
perhaps to pen another fuck you poem
to the raw nerve process
acceptable, understandable, inevitable

wonder at the me that lives on someone else’s hard drive
old words, old photos
spiderwebbed framework a prison
a cloak rendering me invisible
hush
from beyond the veil comes a whisper
walk in beauty

~ Susie Hewitt, that crazy Las Vegas poet

Her Two Cents

What are the bits and pieces of ourselves that live on in the world of others? Letters written, emails sent, photos stores in albums and folders, bits and bytes stored in memories both organic and machine. Beautifully invisible, screaming whispers, all our stimuli is presented for others to choose from whether we realize (or like) it or not.

Lovelorn Poet in Athens, GA: Fingers For Your Braille

March 6, 2014 by lovelornpoets

geologic map by Richard Droker

Missed Connections in Athens

Fingers for Your Braille

The foothills, the mountains, the vales,
Always covered in mist,
I stumble through the woods of your heart,
A blind man, with no dog, no cane, no trail.

I am no cartographer, I am no mountain man’s son,
But here where Appalachia meets the Piedmont,
I am learning to steer by touch, and by the myriad,
Differing silences of that wood, that emanate like the sun.

But, oh, that I might love you well,
Instead of making such a mess of it all,
I’d need a heart that could traverse your skyline,
And had fingers, for your Braille.

Her Two Cents

I was recently doing some housekeeping in the Lovelorn Poets email inbox when I stumbled upon this poem I saved from well over a year ago. Re-discovering it was a happy occurrence as the Athens missed connections feed was at one time an interesting space filled with creative writing, poetry and random amusements. Alas, those days are long gone but I still hope that some day it will return to its former glory.

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