For Passion or Nothing

Poetry is not the same as it used to be, its reputation is not the same, and its writers will never be the same, but that is not to say that it is better or worse, just different. Don't be scared by the word poetry thinking it has to be one single thing. Poetry is not one definition, it is not one style, it is an extension of the human consciousness a strand of phrases and combinations raw and fresh from the mind.

[passion-ornothing]

Collaboration: reblog and add/write the next line to this collaboration

Both: When we were young we listened to the wind and heard music

Person 1:

[tenma-the-mad]

Now Old as we are we listen to ourselves What should be silence And hear only the drums

The drums the drums the drums that herald what’s to come, a future we remember so vaguely that we don’t know how we got here now

[passion-ornothing]

(Unfinished)

There's something about Philosophy, a force that draws The minds of men and women For centuries, Since our minds could make sense Of simple things like joy and morality We have made them complex Happiness is the most elusive Of mistresses, Ducking neatly behind fear and doubt But when it comes, it is known It is good, By any definition of the word It comes in the form of a smile A loving look from far away A word A song Happiness is by no means simple It sits on one end of a large divide Generally, it takes years to Pass through, Some in our lives show us the way They are our guides, Parents, friends Some lead us astray She is the x on the map She is true north She plots the path of least resistance Though resistance would Be fought through if necessary She is the way, a path through The dark A light A lamp A lifting of fog She is love As vexing and as complicated As it is She is happiness, She has been found And with any luck will remain so The trouble with a philosophy is It's not provable She is not a philosophy She is a science She holds so much in her eyes Universes twisting and swirling Mystery Though her smile is filled with All of the right clues And I easily and gladly fall into it There is no end to her beauty As there is no end to the Galaxy She is pain Every moment without the flutter Of her voice, the wave of her hair As it falls about her face A frame to a priceless art Every moment without her Feels as if my heart is being Ripped from my chest And held before my eyes She is my heart This moment, and the next And the next

[passion-ornothing]

Untouched

The kitchen counter remains bare All morning Neglecting to host an assortment Of fruits and pastries Bought the night before Chipped tiles And jettisoned paint chips scatter Themselves in the open spaces The fridge hangs open A gaping mouth longing to fill To it's potential But the cold air is seeping out Mingling with the warmth Of the room A bread loaf dangerously Ventures toward the edge Of a stocked shelf Casually careening From it's clear plastic home The rest of the room hangs in the Balance of those few seconds Between cheers Those few minutes between Caresses Those few years between meetings And those few decades between Deaths We don't know how long this Room has been empty The scorched countertop's scattered Tiles shine through the blackened Cement like stars, or helicopters Over a busy city sky The door of the fridge hangs open Pictures strewn across It's magnetic surface Plastered onto the metal like Squashed bugs onto An interstate truck Faded smiles and burnt bridges Slowly melt into piles of ashes The loaf of bread was half finished Two slices still teetered on the edge Of the toaster oven The dial turned one click too high The slices too far in to be spotted From the desolate countertop A newspaper sits on the floor in The middle of the room Ironically placed where none of the Flame had licked it's lips A painful stain on the tattered Wood floor The headline read in faded bold: "Forest fire out of hand, evacuation In progress" There was nothing to be left In that room Nothing worth taking And yet it's silver corners It's tattered edges Remain untouched

[poetryprompts]

Choose an emotion you’re familiar with. Write that emotion as a place: a room, or a building, or somewhere outside… Use all five senses. Be as specific and detailed as possible.

[buttonpoetry]

[buttonpoetry]

Phil Kaye // “Repetition” (Poetry Observed)

"If you watch the sun set too often, it just becomes 6 PM. If you make the same mistake over and over, you’ll stop calling it a mistake." The first video in our series with Poetry Observed. The amazing Phil Kaye. Words matter.

[passion-ornothing]

Midas

Dear Zoe, I thought that if I could turn your World to gold you would be happy I misjudged the greed in your eyes You are a beautiful Terrible woman Were... And I miss you I miss you so much I find myself staring into your eyes Daily, they do not have the fire That they did before There's an olive tree growing in the Garden, it's grown since you left We will have some new oil soon But the olives have been falling off When I reach for them I find they Are turned rotten I guess that's appropriate I don't have the touch anymore Well, I have a touch It just feels empty now Like I'm hollow Everything I touch turns To emptiness But I guess that's what gold is Isn't it? There's no real substance In that Glimmer, there's no power in the Shine, and wealth? Ha, wealth means nothing when You're empty Fill my banks with golden coins And I will feel as dry as the desert And there is nothing I can do Nothing Nothing to bring back the life that Has left you Nothing to draw back the greed in Both our eyes Oh, Zoe, your mother would be so Proud of you, she always wanted Her daughter to be the brightest In the world This isn't what she exactly meant But she would be proud I leave the empty olives in your Outstretched hands They make me feel closer somehow I don't understand it Damn this curse Damn my greed Damn me Just damn me to hell and end this But that is too easy It's a way out I have to be an example Me and my Midas touch

[passion-ornothing]

Prayers

Dear lord, I've been wondering why you never Answer these I asked myself if I was asking Things that were selfish Like when I was five I asked you to Rain Legos down from the heavens Not selfish at all When I was twelve I asked you to Make the kid who shoved my face Into my locker fall down the stairs... I fell down the stairs Last year I asked for an A In European history I got a B I wonder if I'm asking at the wrong Time, maybe you're just busy You must be at least a little busy I mean, everyone prays in one way Or another And from what I've read you don't Have a secretary I wonder if you have an 8 hour work Day, are you a part of a union? I hope so, they have good health care Lord, why do you never answer? I've only ever heard my own Voice in my head Or maybe that is your voice I can't tell the difference anymore All of the voices sound the same Lord, what do you do when I'm not Asking for something? Can I ask for something? There's this girl, she has lost so Much in the eight last years She doesn't have a home that Keeps her for more than a few Dinners and a late night movie Can you watch over her? Can you do that for me? I would do it myself, but I get the Feeling you'd want to use Your omnipotence in some other Way than raining Legos from the sky And lord, we should talk about That secretary position

[passion-ornothing]

Do you think that if I plastered my cheeks to the cold windows of your hatred, the fog might get your attention? Do you think that if my feet could run With the angels above, you might see My guilt in the sky? Do you think that if I burn the books of our past, I will erase the pages of the...

[osomajor67]

My new sounds:

[osomajor67]

Braille by The Sphinks

[passion-ornothing]

To the depressed.

1. The human skin is designed to get stronger after being broken down. When life burns the surface of skin, the scar that replaces it is not seen as weak, no, the scar is seen as the constant pursuance of life. When cuts appear on skin that nature hadn’t intended, they appear...

[passion-ornothing]

You changed your url, whyyy????

It was too long... I thought this was good, paying a tribute to my graduating friends Andrew, Alex, Cameron and RJ, it's the motto for our club, for passion or nothing.

[story-dj]

Love and Space Dust

Poems from my anthology, Love and Space Dust. The full book is out now and available as:

** Amazon.com Paperback - Amazon.com Kindle - Lulu Publishers Paperback - Amazon.co.uk Kindle - Amazon.co.uk Paperback - Signed Direct from Author **

[buttonpoetry]

Michael Lee - “Pass On” "The theory of six degrees of separation was never meant to see how many people we could find. It was a set of directions to find the people we have lost." We’re excited to feature Michael Lee’s beautiful poem (and video) on the Button YouTube. A powerful elegy to an old friend, and a celebration of the belief that no one is ever really lost. Please share Michael’s words with anyone who you think might need to hear them.

[buttonpoetry]

[buttonpoetry]

Sasha Banks - “Jimmy Is Funny” (WoWPS 2014)

"Your grandmother’s whole body was swallowed to a whisper named mammy that drowned in the spit of white babies.” Performing during the Lit Slam at the 2014 Women of the World Poetry Slam.

[passion-ornothing]

Wake up It’s time to go to school I walk outside It is autumn The trees are bleeding No one made breakfast The door is unlocked And I can here sirens still And in the stillness of that second… The alarm goes off Ten minutes late Again Buzzing and buzzing in my ear Like the...

[cantcontrolthegay-deactivated20]

[lady-of-redemption-deactivated2]

He did it. He actually managed to describe how it feels to live with depression and suicidal tendencies. And the being boring part? Blew my mind. This man is amazing.

[missamericanavotesblue]

X