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Poetry Super Highway


Poetry Super Highway
The Poetry Super Highway Welcomes all submissions
of poetry for Featured Poet of the Week consideration.

When Words Mate


Lithesome snakes bend askew in bed,
Passion fills the room and I smile.
Straw falls before her happy eyes
And she brushes them back, snake tongues
Flicking the air, tasting the memory.

Cuddled next to the act, I sigh with happiness
And the snakes wrap around me, holding me
While granite legs pin me down. Pink mirrors
Whisper in my ear and she giggles at her thoughts.
Spent, I fall asleep in bliss, waiting to do it again.


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The Death of…


Ubiquitous ambiquity
Slithers across the floor
And forms puddles in potholes.
I look around and around
But all I see is the same.

Vague fog and swirling veils
Cover the monotony that I see
And differences in the sameness
Distinguished only by location.

Where to go? What to do?
Does it really matter anymore?
It’s all the same so why fight or try.

My footsteps echo like a car
And my head is tilted as I fade.


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Liquid Silver, Tangeable Red


Moonlight like liquid silver pours over leaves
And wind whispers through the tree tops.
Grass tickles between my toes and I think of you.

The rose, the thorn, the scent on the breeze.
Velvet black scattered with diamonds press down
And I step to the flower, reaching for its beauty.

Even in the dark, the red color shines bright.
Mist cools my skin as I kneel on the ground.
A single rose for a single memory, wanting more.


Illusory Agony


I lie in bed and the sound of breathing floats over me.
She’s clueless that I’m even there, having fallen asleep long ago.
The night is my relaxation, my release from the stress of interaction
And I turn my back to her and face the fan. I sigh deeply,
Thinking of being somewhere else.

Thoughts float through my head, ethereal wisps that I try to catch.
And fail. One thought to another as I desperately try to concentrate.
She moves and the concentration is broken. I turn again and
Give a mental sob. I don’t know why, but I’m not happy.
I close my eyes and try again. Try to picture the scene.

A small room with little in it, fine details that I cannot see.
Cramped and hot, a place of discomfort and fear, yet stability and solitude.
Drawing my brows together, I focus on the far wall and Work breaks
Down the door. It whispers to me and tells me something I need to know.
Frustrated, I resign myself to sleep, the room fading to nothing.


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Stress over the mess
And pain for the gain.

Wanting and hope
For something to come.

Perhaps not.
But then again, maybe.


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A brown couch, sitting alone
Unused until another couple cuddles
With fiery energy that lights my brain
On fire as I buzz with their thoughts.

Fighting the waves of emotion as
Though they are mine, I struggle
To keep myself free of the tornado
Swirling invisibly around the room.

Mental tears stream down my mind
As my brain recognizes the emotion
But still knows that I am not doing.
Please. More, but with me. Only me.

They kiss and my chest aches because
It is not my lips but yet it feels like
My heart. An emotion that I cannot
Halt but is not mine. It hurts. Stop.


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A sacred note,
Leftover reminders
Of the song of creation,
Intones through the air,
Through my mind,
Through my soul.
It tugs at my spirit
And my heart.

Mournful of my past,
Fearful of my future.
Humming the note,
My vision blurs and
My nerves vibrate
Until I disintegrate
Into the whole
And reach bliss.

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What happens makes me who I am.
Not where I’ve been, not what I’ve seen.
Forgetting things, I do them again
Only to find the experience new as
When I first started. Confusion
And finally understanding. It creeps
Into my mind as I ponder the meanings
Behind what just happened and I fret.


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White Space


There’s a piece called 4′33”.
I can’t mimic it with words.
I meet failure with each line
And a lack of description
Betrays the piece’s brilliance.

Like a soft wind, moving so slowly that the air is still
Or a scent so light that you cannot place or name it.
A color so delicate that you confuse it for white.
No form, word, line, or sound can describe this song.
Its closest form is unsung, unappreciated white space.


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