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 Feb 2023
Jacobe Loman
Stuck in my head with this sickle hanging low
Within the forest of music
Nestled empty under a cradle of nature
Empty chest choked with the guilt
Quivering lips forget the words
Left incomplete as you go
The tranquil grove is no more
As the stars rain down like tears often do
The light shining above me is nothing special
This razor extinguishes the pain
The swirling blue embers reminding me of you
But you are not here by me
And now I swim in the creek
The current is pulling me into the abyss
I see no reason to comply
And the sanctified caress of the grass is warming
All I ever knew was you, and now I don't know myself
I don't want to go
What choice is there in this grief
Surrounded by the maggots and butterfly
Shrouded in your vibration
Your shoulders are so strong
I wish this was all I had to be
The anger is so primal and unforgiving
You are coming to terms and resenting me
Why should I try at the cemetery
Crawling around I'm wasted in the undertow
What was it you had to say
I just want to feel normal
Now it's too late
I'll hang onto those murmured words
Even though in this twilight I am to blame
 May 2021
Valsa George
Looking out through the window of his lonely cottage
The old man vacantly gazed,
At the lazy curl of smoke from the chimneys
His eyes further wandered over
to the dew dampened meadows
And the sloping paths that ran round

Over them how many times, he had rambled leisurely
With Jack, his spaniel that died a few months ago
Though single with no legacy to leave behind
Never before he felt so lonely as of late
And the memories of his dog keep haunting him.

One morning he found his dog lying stretched out
Alas! From that slumber, he didn’t rise!

Now with nothing to look forward to in life
He is in no hurry to leave his cottage as before
Each day starts with the same ritual
Every day the old man would brew his tea
Pour it steaming into his large porcelain mug
And gets settled on a chair by the table
Looking through the small window,
His main opening into the wider world

Sometimes from the pantry
He would bring a can of biscuits
And munch a few along with his cup of tea
This, he did as an unfailing routine
When his dog Jack was with him!
Every morning the dog would be there at his feet
Its greedy eyes glued to the biscuits in his hand
When there was but just one left with him,
He would lift the biscuit right over the dog’s head
A cue for Jack to stand up and have his share

When it rises up wagging its tail in joy
Sometimes he would place his fore finger on his lips
And the dog discerning what its master meant
Would soon sit down obediently and remain quiet
When he got convinced that Jack took his orders,
He would hold the biscuit between his fingers.
When on its hind legs it rises, balancing into a waltzing step,
The biscuit would be dropped into its gaping mouth!

Now each day as he sips his tea
He sorely misses his dog and its pranks
His world is so cold and he feels so lost
Once his dog shared his board and owned his bed
More than ever he missed him now
Who stood so faithful unto the last

With mist blurring his eyes and with a sigh
The old man once more looked into the meadows far away!
A simple poem that can be read like a story. All dog lovers can relate to the feelings the oldman shares
 Jan 2021
Jacobe Loman
society the suicide disease
aware of proliferation
following the reaper
abused substance
synthetic chemicals

trailing behind god
melodic tone perceptions
tears high
value low
long will it hurt
loved ones go
drapery over eyes
shadow plays

youth is growing old
give something to behave
only here is now

find the dead
hanging around the head
lidless crossed eye
it's okay
reaching so high
falling so deep
precious human soul

you walk ever closer
taste the doubt
dying on your blade
subject to be aware
visage of pain
 Nov 2020
Imran Islam
I am waiting for your smiles
and sitting down for your voice.
I have found your door after
the journey of miles and miles.

If you receive me this morning
I'll melt in you till the evening
I'll make you never forget me
after my loving touch today.

When you will come here and see me
I'm lying down on the front door
You'll just pull me up to adore
and you won't stop hugging me.

I wish you will be here so soon
to make my eyes wonder
I'd draw a beautiful afternoon
along with you by the blue river!
https://amazon.com/author/lurepot
 Oct 2020
martin
flower in her hair
her body she shares with you
hold her she blossoms
 Oct 2020
Aparna
longing for summer;
literally,metaphorically
5w
just a note
     hoping for the better
U w U
 Jul 2020
Sk Abdul Aziz
Some people are so poor that the only thing they possess is money.
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