love poems of late





I love that morning when I was twenty and had just met someone very important (though I didn't know it) and I walked down an almost empty State Street because it was still early and not at all late—and of course I could change everything (though I also didn't know it)—I could find anyone, go anywhere, I wasn't sorry for who I was. from Love Alex Dimitrov

My body is filled by a summer of lust and I can't tell the difference between desire, longing, and all the sweet speeches love hoards. Something deeper grinds its teeth on metal, mocks and preens in cold rooms where a glass breaks and women wear rich gowns that weigh more than they do. Death mating with Beauty. Night roaring and the cathedral holding its ground against the strength and purring of the wet couple undone by a power only the earth could love. The Small Thing Love Is Linda Gregg

        Sometimes I like to lose
        Man, feels better than a
        win
        Sometimes I like to lose
        Man

          from Like to Lose
            Starflyer 59

                often, I think to myself: I'm the youngest I'll ever be. 
                                    my obsession with age disturbs me entirely
                                      not that I don't like change, moreso, I have a rather teenage fear of death
                     I'd like to enroll in classes but never take them
                     get right up to the edge and
          never fall
                           apply to jobs just for the hope of it- never live it         
                                                                  never true/never real/never stuck and pigeonholed like my mother was when she immigrated to america
                                                                  and felt like she had accomplished her dreams only to be stuck with a man that didn't love her and
                                                                  people that couldn't hear her and a daughter that didn't know her world
                     I love knowing that my poetry is a cliché
                     I love pushing deep into a catastrophe and letting it run its course- with my heart displaced
                     I love being young and wrong
                     I will never love you more than I love nothing.
                     
                              Twenty-One
                             Esther Hong
                       
                                                                                                                                                                     
                       
                                                                                And he went down, and talked with the woman; and she pleased Samson well.
                                                                                
                                                                                                                  Judges 14:7
                                                                                                                A regular voyeur
                                      
                        
my passport photo