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New Bearings in Poetry

In terms of mere merit, all written or spoken poetry requires a reader or listener, without which it is impossible to comprehend, understand or define absolutely how poetry works. Poetry requires or even necessitates an audience, to be heard or known to exist. Poet and audience are interdependent and related factors. Without these factors there would be no need for poetry or poets to exists. In ac...

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Performance PoetryReading PoetryUnderstanding PoetryWriting PoetryGood and Bad Poetry

Consequences

Because I have seen

such small glory as heaven found

Lit translucent in the wing of a dragonfly serene above the dark pond depths

Lit gold in the sunlit pelt of that one white cat still beneath the tree

Lit in Spring's faint skeleton of Winter's fallen leaf

Lit in the fractal eternity of each flake that floats snow down

and know the pain each angel hears

Held in a single seadr...

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writing poetrysleepdreamswonderment

Mind Fog

Maybe something happens

Which propagates a deep unease

That makes you acknowledge the weight in your brain

And reminds you that you're unwell again

Volumous storm clouds roll in and take hold

As well you sit with your feelings inside your head it seems as though a thousand years drift by within yourself

As you wait for the interminable unrest to pass

Lightning strikes and thun...

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poetrywriting poetrydepressionturmoilunease

Workshop

Today we’ll learn to build a wordstone wall,

substantial as the one before you now.

It must survive hard frosts; wild gales and squalls;

ride seismic shifts; endure the shunts of cows.

 

First we think about what it’s for.

The purpose might be to keep your chattels penned

or keep intruders out.

It may define the boundaries of your tract

or simply be aesthetic.

Conside...

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dry stone walldrystone wallingmetrepoetryrhymeworkshop poetrywriting poetry

Entirety (The Whole)

The sights of ourselves still shape us to divide,
immediate response to the craves and madness,
we feel the way we feel but tonight it's you inside,
burried in the senses out of the lightness.

And days are still days but the trouble collides,
for all the reasons we chose not to revile,
and all our fears, childlish alike,
echoing through our minds, rejecting denial.

Stay where you are a...

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poetrysad poetrylove poetryconnectionwritingwriting poetry

She's Snow White

Not So White 

Little Snow White's daddy died 
Pretty girl cried and cried
Wicked Queen an ugly old tart 
Sent huntsman to take her heart

Huntsman took Snow for a ride 
But felt ever so guilty inside
Snow looked up and made her plea Huntsman said, ‘Go now! Be free’

He took his knife; he lit a cig 
Then cut heart out of a pig
Snow White ran he felt good 
She tripped over piece of wo...

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poetrycreativewritingwriting poetryhumour

Resistance

And tides are still the same as they were,
fluid numbers, one piece in folded milions,
telling us why we all need to reach the bottom,
embracing drops of broken brilliance.

Wait until it all comes down,
your whispers rest in front of the broken Avalon,
inside our shell is something we all found,
blue-red pictures reflected by the dawn.

And tides are still the same as they were,
connec...

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creative writingearth poetrylove poetrypoetrysad poetrytideswritingwriting poetry

Escape

Close your eyes, escape,
one weightless breath after another,
at the time when universe slips out of your hand,
but to live, to feel and to die when
two worlds crashes into each other,
and the atoms dissolve into the sand.

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Wish You Were Here

Wish you were here,
to break down all the differences,
to shake down all the borders,
to melt down all the distance,
to connect all the figures
in the right place.
What else could, what else could confront us?
In the same way we breath,
in the same way we cry,
wish you were here,
tonight when the whole world is empty
and there is no one left to die.

Wish you were here,
to create all...

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love poetrypoetrywordswritingwriting poetry

Thursday

Take me for a walk, Thursday's pressing my veins,
going through your secrets, through your mind,
all the spots are just the same, quiet and sublime,
your milkshake soul, so hard to find.
And if you ever offer me a peace of that sound,
if you ever try to hide me from that mess,
hold me, keep me, smash me to the ground
your milkshake soul, my emptiness..
 

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life writinglove poetrypoetrywriting poetry

Summer And Everything After

Don't look the other way
the view can take me from you.
It's all written there
what we chasing..

Now it's the other way
don't let me fall from there.
The moment that we wanted
is fading..

I am not worried
I am not worried
everything changes
I am never worried
I am never worried
time is still fading
around you..
i swear it's true..

Ten thousand miles away
your shadow is danci...

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poetrywritingMusicguitarAcousticwriting poetrylove poetry

February Scars

Take your pills
bury them somewhere,
on a road
that leads to nowhere,
we fall 
like leafs on the ground.

Melt your swett
drope it around me,
turn the radio gatter the fallen stars,
bring your february
scars.

Let's pretend 
we have no money,
close your eyes
lay upon me,
the whole world 
is what we are trying to forget.

Let's pretend
we have no problems
get your things
and ...

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Veronica

Veronica,
with a bullet in hands
with a smile on her face
with eyes full of betrail
she walks down the hill

Veronica,
this night is'nt fair
you just can't compare
your eyes with the grail
underestimating pain

And she walks
with a bullet in hands
and eyes full of betrail.
God knows
they're just a silver 
scrapes in 
may.

And she hates
her steps in the sand
and her crown has...

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poetrywritingMusicguitarwriting poetry

Try

Take your every step you've walked,
pretend you walk a mile from here
and go again

Show me how'd you get so far,
show me your forgotten call
and i'll be there...

Building up your silhouettes
building up your silhouettes
and going out again.

Take your dreams and fake them right,
fake them right once in a while
and walk away.

All you are is step in time,
dust is grey and rain is...

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creating changeguitarMusicMusic with Spoken Word.poetrywritingwriting poetry

Catching Signals

With every visible light
shades dissappears along the way,
burned to the ground,
invisible coloured sound,
restless needle in a hay.

Siting on the top,
catching signals with my brain,
exhausted, terryfied 
from the crowd below 
how is it possible to feel
so stuck in time, so alone?

With every visible light
shades turned out again,
arising from the ashes
visible colourblind man,
...

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life writingpoetrywritingwriting poetry

Tokyo Lights

We are not siluets, 
we are above them all.
The red stripes in my head
keep running with no control.

And then the long street keeps
all the blue lights i am calling home,
forever banned for me
without coming and return.

I see the color blindness,
seeing sides of you.
Delighted with any moment
that i am stuck into.

I am far away from myself,
far away from you.
Tokyo lights i am ...

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poetrywriting poetryjapanlife writingguitarmusic.

She

She's a creator
She's always bright
She's a general 
in black and white.
She put's her problems
down on the line,
She's out of control when
nothing is fine.

She means something,
she keeps something,
she means something,
something away,
to me,
from me.

She is so calm
when no one is around.
She's a believer
with hands on the ground.
She's a poet 
fingers on the screen.
She's ...

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shepoetrywriting poetrywritinglove poetry

Melancholia In May

Sun is now on the top again
swallowing the rest of our memories,
protecting the remains of the day,
keeping all the moments,
keeping them all the way....down.
Hey, forget your pride
there is nothing left to say
nothing stronger, nothing deeper than 
melancholia in May.
Don't collapse, stand up to your sense, your life,
store them somewhere else,
keeping them away, breaking them apart,
...

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poetrywritingmelancholiawriting poetry

Move On

Don't close your eyes
as you used to do
I am just remembering stuff
considering you.
All the welcomes are allready told,
perfect and round,
straight and unfold.
Stay the same as you are,
provoke the life in a same way
and if all the roses turns to ash
you stay yourself anyway.
Climb those mountains
as you climb your dreams,
don't step aside
it hurts...but it's all just a play.
So, d...

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time to move on poetrypoetryfreedomwriting walklife writingwriting poetry

Echoes

Echoes,
echoes in the dark chasing us away..
chasing us..
away.

Echoes, 
echoes.. are still down there,
..there they are trying to hear our call,
call them to come around we are almost free, almost there,
almost there..
..fallen angels on the ground..
on the ground..
broken needle in a hay ..
in a hay.

Echoes,
echoes .. forever and before,
..before we weren't the same in their e...

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poetry eventpoetrylove poetrywritingwriting poetrywriting walkwriterEchoes

Dream About Absolute Freedom

Doesn't always have to be right
dream about absolute freedom
fading boredom, breading soil
remember the world's silence
through the spark of the time
calm and sublime, calm and sublime
dream about wisdom?...No,
dream about absolute freedom.
Changing morbid statues
around the neck of the nature
spelling words, creating magic
fading moments hard to catch them,
leaving you in thoughts, le...

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poetrywritingwriting poetryfreedomcreative writing output

Trace

Take me away,
far from nuances of life,
far away through different times,
different truths, different minds,
hiding the dust, stretching our hands
closer to our dead, misguided breed.
Take me away from these wild,
lost in a crash, elevated rivers,
green tables, empty crowds,
part of the glory still lingers,
through laughter and torrent
it will never melt down.
Feel the emptiness as а p...

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poetrywritinglove poetrywriting poetrytrace

Write Anyway

So it's cliche,
write anyway.

So it's not 
gramatically correct,
write anyway.

So it doesn't rhyme,
write anyway.

Don't let judgmental
"experts" distort
your perception 
of poetry 
or silence
the part of 
your soul that
longs to make
sense of life.

Just write 
any way! 

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poetrywriting poetrypersistencerhymeperfectionjust writegrammarpoems

Honest Writing

The worst

Thing is when I

Am writing poetry and spill

My wine

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stupidtruthwriting poetrycinquain form

Secrets Inside

{Secrets Inside}

 


So many different

secrets inside of

my mind that

makes me want

to know how it

would feel to

embrace my lips

with yours as we

lock eyes lost in

that loving gaze as

we both slip off to

that time slip place

where we can be

on automatic repeat

because this is one

of my favorite secrets 

 

 

 

©Tina Glover All Rights Re...

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Secret poemswriting short poemswriting short storiesTina Gloverwriting out loudwriting poetrysecret poetrypoempoetryOne_Pissed_Off_American_Ghost_Writer/Tina Glover

Diary Of The Southern Queen Entry #31 {The Nerve Of Some People}

{Diary Of The Southern Queen Entry #31} {The Nerve Of Some People} 

 

 

The nerve of 

some people 

these day's 

`n` then you

think way me? 

`n` then you are

thinking it would

be nice if the

military would

just nuke your asses

already 

 

 

 

 

 

 

©One_Pissed_Off_American_Ghost_Writer/Tina Glover originally written May 29,2017 but posting ...

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diary of the southern queenlifelivingOne_Pissed_Off_American_Ghost_Writer/Tina Gloveroutside inspirationstoriesTina Glovertruthwordy queenworldly inspirationwriting poemswriting poetrywriting short poemswriting short poetrywriting short storieswriting to write

Diary Of The Southern Queen Entry #16 {I Am All Confused?}

{Diary Of The Southern Queen Entry #16 {I Am All Confused?} 

 

 

I am all confused 

I am unsure of something's 

I am finding myself like a chicken ? running around with my head cut off these day's 

I am dazed 

I am here trying to grasp my reality before I lose what little insanity I have left 

I am beaten 

I am broken `n` scared up good for nothing diseased infected big ...

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diary of the southern queenOne_Pissed_Off_American_Ghost_Writer/Tina Gloveroutside inspirationshort storiesstoriesTina Gloverwordy queenworldly inspirationwriting poemswriting poetrywriting short poemswriting short poetrywriting short stories

Diary Of The Southern Queen Entry #14 {My Story}

{Diary Of The Southern Queen Entry #14} {My Story}

 

 

 

The word's of

inspiration,

dream's from

that certain

person has been

beautifully

written on the

walls inked

down `n` linked

straight to my

soul that gives

me that courage

`n` strengths to

fight `n` my

battle because

I'll always

survive if it

takes the last

breaths in me

`n`...

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diary of the southern queenfeeling'sinspirationlifelivingOne_Pissed_Off_American_Ghost_Writer/Tina Gloveroutside inspirationpoempoetrysurvivorthinking out loudTina Gloverwordy queenworldly inspirationwriting poemswriting poetrywriting short poemswriting short poetry

Diary Of The Southern Queen Entry #12 {White Snow Flakes}

{Diary Of The Southern Queen Entry #12} {White Snow Flakes} 

 

 

 

The white

snow flakes

began to fall

down like

the coldest

december

weather

outside

pearched on

my doorstep

`n` through

the darkened

dark of ?

night's of the

meadows that

once was

glistening white

`n` the white

snow flakes

began to mix

into a black

convoy ech...

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diary of the southern queenfeeling'slifelivingOne_Pissed_Off_American_Ghost_Writer/Tina Gloveroutside inspirationpoempoetrysnowTina Glovervisiblewitnesswordy queenworldly inspirationwriting poemswriting poetrywriting short stories

Diary Of The Southern Queen Entry #7 {A Story About Me I Will Always Tell It}

{Diary Of The Southern Queen Entry #7} {A Story About Me I Will Tell It} 

 

 

 

If there's

a story

about my

life that's

a story

that I

will have

to be the

one to

tell 

because I'm

the only

who knows it

`n` can

tell my

story so

well `n` until

then my

story will

remain untold 

 

 

 

 

 

 

©One_Pissed_Off_Americ...

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diary of the southern queengetting bylifelivinglove poemsOne_Pissed_Off_American_Ghost_Writer/Tina Gloveroutsiders inspirationpoempoetryquotesshort poemsshort poetryshort storiesTina Gloveruntold storiesworldly inspirationwritingwriting poetry

Diary Of The Southern Queen Entry #6 {His Rhythm}

{Diary Of The Southern Queen Entry #6} {His Rhythm} 

 

 

 

His rhythm of

his songs played

like the sickest

twisted dead of a

deafening whistling 

whisper's through

the cold northern

lights that only

the animals could

hear that kept

them howling

by the bay from the

amusement of his

meaningless song

that continues to

play his sickened

twist...

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diary of the southern queenhumoroushumorous poemlieslifelivingmusicOne_Pissed_Off_American_Ghost_Writer/Tina Gloveroutside inspirationpainquotesongsTina Gloverworldly inspirationwritingwriting poemswriting poetry

Satan's Child

{Satan's Child} 

 

 

He was born into

the world of

darkness with

the markings of

his father's

mark~of~the~beast

in three numbers of

six~six~six hidden

beneath the darken

fleshy flesh on his

corrupted body this

he had to bear

upon this world 

causing chaos and

ruckus throughout

this evil land of

his father's Satan

 

 

 

 

 

...

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darkened poemdarkened poetryevilnessOne_Pissed_Off_American_Ghost_Writer/Tina GloverpoempoetrySatan's ChildTina Gloverwritingwriting poetry

California~Birmingham Skies

{California~Birmingham Skies}

 

 

He was twisted up into the California skies always needing that extra special gift of love that would feel his ? heart with happiness for the rest of his day's on this planet but he painting his words of wisdom across the skies in California with the wanting to dedicating his self to this world the way he should have so long ago before his hair got all gr...

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carryingfriend'slivingOne_Pissed_Off_American_Ghost_Writer/Tina GloverpoempoetrythinkingthoughtsTina Gloverwritingwriting poetry

No Guarantees

{No Guarantees}

 

 

 

There's no guarantees

that you actually ever

loved me at all




And 




There's no guarantees

that you was even

worth my tears over

these year's 




And I'm not gonna cry

and I sure as hell ain't

gonna shed no more

tears for you since

you left me to be with

her and tore my world

apart while breaking and

wreckin...

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One_Pissed_Off_American_Ghost_Writer/Tina Gloverpoempoetrysadnesspainheartachesad poetrysad poemlifelivinglovingmad as hellTina Gloverwritingfictionwriting poetry

With This ? Rose

{With This ? Rose} 

 

 

I will keep it with me even after it withers and died 

 

 

And 

 

 

I'll place into a book to hold our love that way until the very end of all times

 

 

Because with this ? rose is delicate to the touch so protect it with your love

 

 

And 

 

 

Your love is forever real 

 

 

And 

 

 

As the day's is lon...

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with this ? rosepoempoetrylivingdeathsad poemsad poetryTina GloverOne_Pissed_Off_American_Ghost_Writer/Tina Gloverlove poemlove poetrywritingwriting poemswriting poetrystoriessadness

Sadness Has Stolen My ? Heart

{Sadness Has Stolen My ? Heart}

 

 

 

My ? heart is hurting so much beyond any word's I can ink down 

 

 

And the pain is tearing up my? heart and soul up 

 

 

And someone please tell me how I can retrieve it 

 

 

Because now the life filled with sadness of a lost love has forever stolen my? heart away 

 

 

And as I'm still trying to revive it today ...

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deep poemsOne_Pissed_Off_American_Ghost_Writer/Tina GloverTina Gloverpoemspoetrydeep poetryheart feltheart felt poemsheart felt poetrylifelovesad poemssad poetrysadnessthinkingthoughtswritingwriting poetry

Popping Pills

{Popping Pills}

 

A bad habit of popping pills like that old tapped out addict that is looking for their next fix like a cocaine rockstar on their best high of their life 

 

But when they come down off of that rockstar high then reality set's in then they withdraw from friend's and their family while trying to hide their pill popping addiction 

 

But now they cannot do it anymore...

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addictaddictionfictionalfictional piecebad habitsfictional characterlearninglifelivingold friend'sold friend's in trouble with pillspast experiencespoemspoetrywitnesswitnessedwritingwriting poetry

He Told Her Today He Doesn't Love Her Anymore

{He Told Her Today He Doesn't Love Her Anymore} 

 

As she walked through the front door of their home he stands up and looks her in the face and says to her I no longer love you anymore as she took off running to the bathroom upstairs while he ran after her but she slam's the door in his face and then locks it as he knocks on the door saying I'm so sorry darling but he hears her sobbing insi...

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deep poetrydeep poemfeeling'sthinkingwritingsadnesswriting poetrylovelove for himlove for herlove poemslove poetry

Delicate Rose Bud

{Delicate ? Rose Bud} 

 

 

She was a pure gentle delicate ? rose bud that needed tender love and care because she was in fact so fragile that she had such a beauty that made her stand out on her own but the ? rose bud was so scared that she would eventually break with the wrong little bitty move but she pushed on through to grow so big and strong that she could set out on her own way 

...

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Poemspoetry?rose budlovepoemlovepoetrywritinglivinglovingdelicatewriting poetry

Brave

My mother calls me brave, so I am brave. 

 

She takes me to the bus stop on the first day of school and I am scared. She smiles and lets me go, so I smile and go. I am brave. 

 

She sits me down and tells me we are moving. My father will be gone a while, and I will have to make new friends. She tells me not to be sad, so I stop crying. I am brave. 

 

I want to dye my hair blue. I...

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poetrywriting poetryshort formfree verse

The Pen

"The pen is mightier than the sword"
- In general, I guess that's true
But mine's a lazy blighter;
It treats sloth as a damned virtue
 
It's not the liveliest of beasts
It's always at a halt
It likes staring at blank paper
As though that's the thing at fault
 
It lives a charmed sedentary life
Full speed is torpidly inert
It charges around at the pace of a slug
When flat out and a...

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penwriting poetry

Self Image

Full rounded heart,

Eyes that are sore with weeping,

Dark like and arrow piercing,

And ever the hand is writing.

 

You draw yourself, so many new lines.

Role after role you sketch, and toss away.

 

Mind that is ever writing

My own hard epitaphs,

Blaming my eyes for weeping

Over dusty photographs.

 

The past is a well told tragedy

And you a...

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griefdepressionwriting poetry

Five Thirty am

In the utter darkness the fine piping of birds begins another dawn.

The insistent cat pushes between my fingers and the open page.

There is a meaning in the poise of my face and pen before the page,

But the cat has no knowledge of it.

 

She pushes her whole black purring self across my face.

Her paws step softly on the paper.

She thrusts her head against the moving p...

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catwriting poetry

Discomposed

How slowly turn the thoughts inside my head,

Searching for sentences that are not dead.

How difficult to find the looked for word,

Without descending into the absurd.

How hard it is to make a simple rhyme,

Yet poets do this nearly all the time.

Iambic phrases slip out easily,

But making sense is much too hard for me.

I reach for feelings, - but my thoughts are nu...

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writing poetry

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