Lovelorn Poets Archives - Page 72 of 143

Lovelorn Poet in Savannah, GA: The Crashing Sea

December 10, 2014 by lovelornpoets

lifelove by Jhayne

On the precipice of sleep,
I fell from a great cliff;
and on my way down to
a crashing sea and certain
death, I imagined a black
and white photograph of
a man falling from a cliff
hanging on the wall of
a gallery.

Standing, in front of
the dramatic image,
a young mother tried to
conceal from her son
that she was crying, but
all the boy could see
was a man flying.

_Bison Jack

Her Two Cents

I imagined a man

Standing in front of a black
and white photograph
hanging on the wall of
a gallery

and on my way down
falling
crashing
from the precipice

I tried to
conceal
crying
from the man flying.

Lovelorn Poet in Las Vegas, NV: Solimentary

December 8, 2014 by lovelornpoets

solimentary

disposable un-rhyme un-reason
don’t look it up it isn’t
there
or here on the screen it’s
between the raindrops
behind the curtains
inside the rasp cry of lost things like
love keys innocence
you are rainbow and i jump
when you
invisible tug the chain
with invitations all flights of fancy
winged steeds hollow suits of armor
let me breathe
life into the oh no
it’s still chambered
catacombs of wax and honey
meaning nothing meaning nothing
just words of bees and symbols and
fruitless look at me-s
for i’m not here and i’m not
there and i’m not nowhere
which is the last word
to be typed
i can do this all night
all year all never forever
alone

~ Susie Hewitt, that crazy Las Vegas poet

Her Two Cents

rainbow flights of fancy
breathe life into
hollow suits of armor

between the raindrops
invitations
you and i
wax and honey
things lost behind the curtains
words meaning nothing

look it up
on the screen
i’m not disposable
i’m the last word
to be typed

Lovelorn Poet in Baltimore, MD: Outside The Ego

December 5, 2014 by lovelornpoets

Between Us and the Water by Eric Brochu

A battle brews beyond grey fences.
A call to arms,
And the volley commences.
These feelings are torn,
Stirring my thoughts,
Indecisive and worn.

Shall I travel down the beaten path,
Destination known,
But with no green grass?
Or should I meander,
Wander away
from your amatorial pander?

Give me clarity.
Show there’s no reason
For such disparity.
Of you I beg
Not an arm nor a leg,
But a place to run,
With feelings fecund.

Her Two Cents

I travel down the beaten path
feelings are Indecisive, torn, and worn
But With A call to arms
Stirring my thoughts

Shall I beg Of you
Give me clarity?
A battle brews
the volley commences.
an arm For a leg,

Or should I meander, Wander away?
Show there’s no reason
nor fecund feelings
But run to a place
with your green grass, amatorial pander
beyond These grey fences.
And from such disparity
no Destination Not known
Outside the ego

Lovelorn Poet in Savannah, GA: Muffled Applause

November 20, 2014 by lovelornpoets

Untitled by Amarit Opassetthakul

Fuck you! she said.
I wish you were dead! she said.
Yeah? Well, fuck you! You fucking
bitch! he said, slamming the door
on his way out.
The apartment building took a
deep breath. George (from Seinfeld)
mumbled something to muffled applause.
Tito Puente rattled the windows of
a passing car. A dog yap-yapped.
The streetlight outside my window
came on. The phone rang.
I let it ring. All of us complicit
in the argument.

-Bison Jack

Her Two Cents

The streetlight
The apartment building
the door
the windows
The phone

deep breath
she said
let it ring

Lovelorn Poet in Savannah, GA: Fabric

November 12, 2014 by lovelornpoets

Where’s the Undo Button? by Quinn Dombrowski

Let us undo everything,
every button of what we
have done. Let the fabric
of who we think we are–
be only thread, and these
stitches fall to the ground.

–Bison Jack

Her Two Cents

Let the fabric think we are only what we have done
undo every button
fall to the ground
these stitches of thread let us be who and we
of everything

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