Love is confusing
We are all vunerable
Its highs and lows hurt
by Dancing Fool of To love is to be vunerable
Music unites us
Moved by the love of music
Soul connects to soul
by Dancing Fool
they're gonna love you
the band is just fantastic
we can hardly count
by ash of have a cigar
What you loved wasn't
"me" anymore. What I loved
wasn't ever real.
by snail
lovers touch withheld
opportunity's harsh cost
tethered dog's mind runs
by Technokoi of Venice Beach
as life moves on the
best is what lies ahead some
say, time machine, mind
by bs
I'd do anything
to have a rewind button
installed in my life.
by snail
I deserve to die:
an eye for an eye. Grace is
better than justice.
by snail
I wish that you had
stolen me from him when you
said you wanted to.
by snail
I feel like that I
want to be a part of a
large quilt of ideas
by somebody of and not just my own
if you want to clean
up "clutter" submit your own
no two see alike...
by somebody
tragedy is a
wake up call but then the dreams
we had assert anew
by Anonymous Poet
I think that fung eh
or such things are a poor idol
for the real thing
by somebody
now what I want is
really simple, to speak here
and so do you, que?
by somebody
chi is a hucksters
dream, even clutter is a
part of this karma
by somebody
must purge the clutter
empty surfaces just dream
as mess fucks with chi
by Technokoi of Venice Beach
Thank God. Finally!
He's leaving. How gret is that!
No more endless crap
by Lets hope he means it this time
in the devisive
most would rather leave and be
at peace with themselves
by bs of including myself
unrelenting waves
pummel till flailing turtle
floating I watch her
by Technokoi of Venice Beach
well throwing paint at
a canvas was new back in
the day, but now splat...
by bs
to be an artist
you got to be like me, just
write whatever comes
by bs
peace of mind is hard
to come by socially so
why bother with humans?
by Anonymous Poet
artists as a lot
often are as most trying to
prove themselves to others
by bs
hello stranger, I
don't want to know you, or see
you, or deal with you
by bs
he threw the sign down
as an easy target throws
back the sign once back
by Anonymous Poet
also, sometimes there grace
but grace is sometimes abused
for the sake of sake
by bs
we all suck at life
at times, so retreat into
impersonation
by bs
we can't live without
kurt, for he saw it as it
was, dresden and all...
by bs
Altered states of mind
Infinite number of planes
Edges start to blur
by Ian Castellucci of Maine
An ode to him
His name was Kurt Vonnegut
Can we live without?
by BellaLune of Renton, WA
i suck at life and
that is why i'm here to write
my stupid haikus
by bs
perhaps with a bit
of silence, perhaps all is
noise, transformed, divine
by bs
do you understand
that "they" told paul to shut up
and he kept preaching?
by bs of whatever the consequences
some minds are very
hyperactive, it shows through
their speech and manners
by bs of or lack thereof
so sustain yourselves?
in protest or vanity?
or something more worthy?
by bs
some made art by the
gluing of fur to a tea
cup, what was that then?
by bs
some discover their
voice when they discover their
audience, and speak
by bs
have you noticed my
anger? of course, patent flaw
we all have them, then
does it take courage
or unwavering stupidity
to keep fighting on
by bs
perhaps you all need
to learn a new language and
need to hear with new ears
by bs
is this not an age
of video news, right there
at your door, madness?
by bs
what is worth the
audience, impatient and
down right f-ing spoiled
by bs
I've often noted
that people have a hard time
seeing their own flaws
by bs
Please stop your haikus
Self-indulgent gibberish
Pastiche of knowledge
by William Nippress of It takes too long to skip to something worth reading
there is no demand
for schizophrenic magpies
seek help and move on
by sf
that does it, then eh
pizzas for everyone, just
you wait, (u'll know it's me)
by bs
for william...
look in the mirror
there's your enemy now look
outside the window
there's your subject matter
by bs
william nippress
sounds as a wine making place
is your shiraz good?
or shall you press me
and make my blood flow
with thine feet taste thy dirt
by bs
this is overkill
it's said to say sour grapes
by some and move on
audiences you know
come and go as do poets
shovels dig and bury
maybe I am heaping
dirt on some corpses
who's time has come
by bs
sometimes it's trash
sometimes innovation
sometimes observation
by bs
I can't remember
the lines I desired to
set in the middle
by bs
