Poetry Blogs (Jan 2012, Love)

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Let the Chips Fall

Let the chips fall,
We're cutting down a tree.
But only to build a bridge
made of electricity.

It's connecting you and me,
to a future we can't see.
Que sera, sera,
What will be will be.

The light that shines inside us
is directing you to me.

Fate is in auto-pilot and it flies in stealth
the beauty of surrender
is a new abundant wealth.

To hell with always asking why

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A distant Memory


I see you in black and white,
a smear on my screen 
secretly opening up a door
to the unknown universe
that you now inhabit.

I feel astray and distant
from a future,
that never

My remembrances of us are
so unlike the motionless
image flickering on my screen:
constantly metamorphosing,
from perfection to a man
living in the delicate body of
a woman.


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Passing by, you held my eye,

Now hours later I still sigh.


Instead of making sure we met

I'm made to live with this regret.


How many times on this old Earth

Is love condemned to this still-birth?


Love's own strangers passing by,

Left to wonder - left to sigh.

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You say you love me, but how can you when you hurt me so?

Now that you’re gone I don’t think I miss you, I’ll find another to

be my kindred spirit.

Together we will be invincible, nothing will separate us.

If you’re jealous and make me a war, I’ll kill you, I swear.

Me and my love will be soul deep. If you were to kill us and

burn our co...

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dead daffodils

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Daffodils on my table

stand in a coffee pot.

The pot is cream and gold and green,

so pretty, I use it as a vase.


The daffodils on my table

never bloomed.

But they are dying.

Maybe it’s too warm.


I bought them from a roadside pail.

They stood proud, gold and green;

full of promises suppressed.


Now, fat buds are soft,


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Fool in love

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I don’t just want to fall in love,

I want to skydive from 3000ft into a huge lake of love,

I want to walk off a cliff and into a canyon of love,

I want to trip into the Volcano and the lava, of love.

Because falling in love shouldn’t be as easy,

As me kissing you, and you kissing me.

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canyonfall in lovekissinglakeloveskydivevolcano

She spoke words of nonsense and he nodded accordingly

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Stubborn as he was,

And was he stubborn? Yes.

He didn’t want to pull his

                                                claws in.

Though he knew it for the best.

He picked a poppy,

                              Stole a rose,

And ran laughing all the way home,


       wee wee,


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forgivenesslieslovenot listening

Lover's Limbo

Just get over it,

Casual, callous, colloquial.

But love is like an amnesiac's boomerang

just when you thing you've forgotten

the love, and the pain

it swoops like a dragon

whose scales scar sentiments.


It usually hits you,

and even if caught,

it caught you by surprise.


Those who once captured your heart

now hold your heart captive.


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Of all the chances, of all the places,

of all the people, it has happened.

Lori came along and into my life,

from the darklands of Scotland.

A Scottish Goth into planes,

a real soulmate I’ve found.

Distance will be overcome for in a week

I’ll be with her, at journeys end.

What are the chances? Well, it happened

and for that I’m grateful...

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Winter Kiss ( Competition)

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Snowfalls bring me to madness,

I catch the snowflakes with my lips.

Snow! The fluffy and sparkling snow!

Its falls make beautiful all my trips.


I love the snowfalls very much

Though I am not eighteen!

Even at my age as such

Catching the snowflakes I am a teen.


What ever that I am not eighteen?

What ever that I am not so young?

The apples...

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As for me, all I know is that I know nothing

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This poem is a collaboration between myself and another poet, J.R.Morgan. You can find her work here. www.J-r-morgan.tumblr.com

Bold is myself, Italics is Morgan.


Bland winds hold her hand

as they lead her through the scent of lilac promises

exhaled from decomposed breath.

They carry her down to the riverbank

where Zephyrus winds churn the

tides to the ri...

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The Falling Down


Find more posts here: http://haydenwritesthings.wordpress.com/

The Falling Down

The knives and forks
are crossed on the plates
in the kitchen,

two used cups sit
quietly on the coffee table
by the sofa,

the pots and pans
we used last night swim
in a pool of cold water.

It’s mid-afternoon,
the rain lashes
at the windows,
and outside the birch
tree swings w...

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Love is a mistress of herself,

She comes without asking.

She can be so cruel or like a kind elf,

She can be true or just masking.


Your fate – my sorrowful pilgrim,

With the key on the neck to walk,

To look for a fairy kingdom,

With different people to talk.


You want to know whose you are,

Where your love lives.

Do you have to walk so far...

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