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 Apr 2020 may
phil roberts
As I lie here
With eyes closed softly
I think deeply of you
And I inhale stars
The scent of twinkling light
So fresh and alive
Sparkling gentle inside me
And I want to write this feeling
So tentatively
As it must be
Like writing words on bubbles
Delicate and precious
Begging them not to disappear
Like dreams in the morning

                                        By Phil Roberts
This may well be my last poem here.
 Apr 2020 may
Colm
Her Favorite Song
 Apr 2020 may
Colm
The universe puts her headphones on
And plays her favorite track
The raindrops in the meadow burst
And soak the earth
And with her feet up on the world
She smiles from ear to ear
And plays it back
What songs does the universe listen to? Is there a more beautiful sound than the rain falling in the secluded meadow. Truthfully, I don't know. But I do love the sound of these words as they roll off the tongue. YUPP!

BIG THANKS to everyone who liked, commented, and helped make this verse the Poem of the day (on 05/18/18). I really appreciate it! You can listen to me read this poem live on SoundCloud. Just follow the link and have an awesome day!  

https://soundcloud.com/user-433755196/her-favorite-song-1
 Apr 2020 may
Mansi
Splinters
 Apr 2020 may
Mansi
I didn’t want to let it go
To be honest
I wanted it to work

But banging on a closed door
Only put splinters  
In my hands
 May 2018 may
BW
First sight.
 May 2018 may
BW
If I had to fall in love I would fall
right into those dimples
and the soft hair that ruffles slightly
When you shoot me one of those
awkward smiles, shy to meet my hazelnut
eyes with your green hues.

I smelled love. Between Chai and coffee.
Brewing like the hot chocolate with cream
that stained your upper lip.
Your shyness, trying to avoid my gaze, but
your eyes lit up.

Blonde hair, creamy skin. Me like an opened
bottle of fizz, bubbly with joy, while you
shy and laughed along
held out your arm to me
so you could keep me safe.

Slow, gentle,sweeter than life.
You were not what I expected at all.
Not my type. Not the flashy kind.
But we ordered
the same drink at the same bar.

Vanity
made me numb for a while, I
mistaken my lust and ambition for love.
The men before you were as vain
as the price tag on my
red heel Louboutins.

But
You
didn't know did you?
Blue cashmere. Jeans and a gold watch.
You made a
sinner change her ways
you made a
Casanova believe in love again.
to Per-Ove
 Mar 2018 may
vanessa
your monsters
 Mar 2018 may
vanessa
draw laughs from your lungs
shove cries back through your chest
press words out through your lips

paper tongues mean nothing when the monsters breathe fire

and no one can silence them

and no one ever tries 'cause
no one ever knows they’re there
 Mar 2018 may
vanessa
we’re just teenagers
hair whipping in our beat-up trucks teenagers
gas station food at 3 am teenagers
love too hard and lose yourself teenagers

some people wonder why we hate
everything

we touch the rays of sunrise
with our snapchat flower crowns
and skate park supernovas
and with our glass-pane-collarbones
peeking out from black bomber jackets,
fragile fingertips emerge from sweater paws.

we capture our feelings in polaroids
our emotions swallowed up
by bottles and our youth
it’s the life we think we know

and all they ever wanted us to do
was crack

we’re just teenagers
soda can sizzle teenagers
lungfuls of shattered dreams teenagers
disintegration conversation teenagers

but the reason why we break so easily
is because we’re humans too.
yikes is this an aesthetic
 Jan 2018 may
Joy Onyango
art
 Jan 2018 may
Joy Onyango
art
you are an artist.
you like to paint
                             smiles on your face to conceal the pain
you like to draw
                              laughs out of the hollow pit of your chest
you like to colour
                              your wrists red and taste the life flowing out of you
                              as if it would quench the thirst created
                              by the loss of someone that you knew
you are an artist
                             you love to create
                                                             you
                                                                     love
                                                                              to
                                                                                   erase.
 Dec 2017 may
Valsa George
When letters wait
to pounce on a blank page
when thoughts crowd the mind
like frothing **** in a pond
I keep wondering
what poetry is to me
what poetry is to many

Is it not the language of the heart
with no intervention of gray matter
the unlocking of closed vaults
stirring the embers of love, hurt or pain
or giving a free rein to fancy
and flying on magic carpets
to lands forlorn

Sometimes it is
a glide into a sea of tranquillity
an escape from
the humdrum of the world
a flash of liberation
from assaults of pain
a sedative
to numb the turmoil
a sanctuary
for a burdened heart
a window
to look at the world through
a companion
when one is inconsolably alone
a candle flame
in a darkening world
a cloth line
to hang the ***** laundry
a water lily blooming
in the pool of tears
a shelter
in homelessness

sometimes it is a ladder
to climb up to Heavens
an angel on wings
with tidings of hope
peace in a world
braced for war

Poetry, if you are all these
let us fall at your feet
bless us in our art
may we splurge in fancy
and conjure up worlds from words!

our poems may not be light houses
but could be fireflies
on a starless night!
Thanks friends for the loving encouragement you have given! I must thank two of my friends in particular.... Kim Johanna Baker for giving an extra shine to my poem and Sarita Adhitya Varma for helping me post this poem when my repeated attempt at posting failed! She patiently directed me.
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