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PAR (Paulo Acácio Ramos) posted in the group National Poetry Month
The Louvre, the Funhouse, the Disco
April 24th arrives
already half‑forgotten,
like a dream you try to hold
but it keeps slipping
through the fingers of your mind.It brings with it
a fading memory
of the main room
of the Louvre…
not the paintings,
not the tourists,
not the velvet ropes,
but the room itself:
its b…Read More -
redzone wrote a new post
4 Comments-
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Yes, I still write. When we first met back in college, I began writing her love poems. One of her girlfriends asked me if I would always write her poetry and I told her and the woman I would marry, “I will always write you poetry”. But I stopped, “life” was my excuse. We did not last (5 years total), not because of the poetry, but we began to see life differently and she got a boyfriend instead of us trying to fix things. But, always writing her poetry became a metaphor for my mistakes in our relationship, the things that I did wrong and contributed to our splitting up. I was more the “typical man” and had to learn the hard way to consciously give that shit up. I have believed that it has been this learning process about patriarchy that has made me more humane and a better human being. So yes, I still write her poetry because I never want to forget and want to continue seeing women with mutual respect and equality, as full human beings. Thank you Fia for reading and your kind words.
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I just finished reading this and wow. It is so moving.
Squeezes my heart while reading.
And reading your reply to Fia made this piece even more special.
I feel very lucky to have read this today. It’s fragile and beautiful all at the same time.
Can’t say enough about it:)
Thanks for sharing
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Curly Grace posted in the group National Poetry Month
Nativity of Loss
(I will always love you, my heart.)I read a poem that evoked a tear
a single, trembling drop
that spun me backward,
into shadows of what was
and the ever-present numbness
of could-have-beens.25 days to go…
The air tastes different now,
heavier with memory,
as the earth tilts toward the same cold light
year a…Read More -
redzone posted in the group National Poetry Month
MaryJane’s Last Dance
It was day 23 of Poetry Month
when you walked through the door,
And I said,
“Oh my, my. Oh hell yes”
as my eyes landed on
that party dress;
thigh high red with
a side slit stare, and
I was pulled into your sway.
MaryJane delights
played in my mind,
like how smoke and fog
swirled in kaleidoscope air,
and we be…Read More4 Comments -
Willow posted in the group National Poetry Month
F*ck the Game
anyone could tell you
I was never a raving beauty
even my family would agreetoo many freckles
not enough oomph
that indefinable thing
(whatever it was)
that made other girls stunningthink of them as Barbies
and me…a paper doll
not much without all the added extras
and even they left details…Read More2 Comments - Load More Posts
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This is so beautiful. You still write to her.