across the borders

Un P❜tit Je Ne Sais Quoi

when longing transfers my miss
others new longs lie down again
cos you inked on my smile’s skin
everything you adore about me

across the bordersin elixir’s truth
you’re in my mind even if i think
that you have vanished a little bit
wrapped into a shushed juncture

but what to see, you’re grazing me
with lust sipping my drunken dream
dancing freestyle in a desire’s room
you[kissing me] me[touching you]
✓✍🏻 ;₎₎
un p’tit je ne sais quoi © coco

Júníus Meyvant ♪

contemporary poetry

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i need you

Un P❜tit Je Ne Sais Quoi

are the words from my bed of dreams

contemporary poetry

A Walk Along the Shore 🖌Willem Haenraets

the breeze of love screaming pleasure
are the words from my bed of dreams
in the clear seconds of my ritzy coffee
at the shore of my sea honeyed wildly
with your barefoot smile into my mind
because my name on your lips call me,
[she’s fire..] and your soul, [i need you]
✓✍🏻 ;₎₎
un p’tit je ne sais quoi © coco

A Place To Bury Strangers ♪

thanks for appreciating my scripts, — 💯✓✍🏻
also, if you enjoyed what you’ve been read,
i invite you to discover many more others…
so KᵉᵉᵖOⁿKᵉᵉᵖⁱⁿᵍOⁿ, feel free😉 click the link👇🏻
deeply, ᶜᵒᶜᵒ 😘💕 ᴴᵘᵍ♪ un p’tit je ne sais quoi

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Elusive Memories – A Poem By Walt Page, The Tennessee Poet

Walt's Writings

He wanders
Through the gardens of his mind
Always searching
For what he knows is gone
The elusive memories of his past
No longer to be found
Fading glimpses
Of what once was
But will never be again
It doesn’t worry him
He still has his music
And his books
Old faded photographs
Of what used to be
They comfort him
And for a moment

He remembers

~The Tennessee Poet~

©Walt Page 2019 All Rights Reserved

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Ashtrays, whiskey and the pen…


Ashtrays, whiskey and the pen…

I loved downtown Austin, Texas. No-one is a stranger. Just people seeking good booze, music and opportunity. I like the comfort of a cigarette, Jack Daniels and time to think and write.

The people in the taverns talk to me like a old and missed friend. I must have a safe face to look at. I don’t believe they know me. My paper and pen bring the people near wanting to hear story and someone with a listening ear. I do have a thousand stories to tell.

A young college girl with eyes of hazel green sat next to me. She asked me. Is love true or just a myth to create false hope? I smiled and I wrapped my right arm around her and I told her. Love is weightless, new love is the real bounty of the lucky. Old love doesn’t exist, only…

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The Chelsea hotel…


The Chelsea hotel

A Poem by Coyote Poetry
"I went to New York a few times. I stayed in the Park and wrote poetry in the day and drank in the dark taverns at night. I like the feel of the city."  

                           The Chelsea hotel….

Leonard Cohen words and song took me to the Chelsea motel before I arrived in the city of New York many times over. I yearn to find the places Cohen and Janis Joplin talks and drank. I have learn in my short life. No saint or angels in the New York city bars and you must want to be saved. To be saved.

I carried my writing journal, the Norton Anthology of English Literature (1942) and held my hot coffee. I sat in the park near the main fountain in the Summer of 1980. The old men were placing chess and many people…

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