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 351° 
Pierre Corneille
Madrigal.

Mes deux mains a l'envi disputent de leur gloire,
Et dans leurs sentiments jaloux
Je ne sais ce que j'en dois croire.
Philis, je m'en rapporte à vous,
Réglez mon amour par le vôtre :
Vous savez leurs honneurs divers,
La droite a mis au jour un million de vers ;
Mais votre belle bouche a daigné baiser l'autre ;  
Adorable Philis, peut-on mieux décider,
Que la droite lui doit céder ?

(Réponse de Mademoiselle Serment.)

Si vous parlez sincèrement
Lorsque vous préférez la main gauche à la droite,
De votre jugement je suis mal satisfaite.
Le baiser le plus doux ne dure qu'un moment ;
Un million de vers dure éternellement,
Quand ils sont beaux comme les vôtres :
Mais vous parlez comme un amant,
Et peut-être comme un Normand ;
Vendez vos coquilles à d'autres.
The moon seems so high
in the night sky,
and
yet somehow he wraps
around me,
Consoles my daily troubles
away,
His radiance warmly
encloses my entire being,
He adores me, causing my soul
to glow.
The moon has always been thee for me and kept me safe. The sunlight has given my where abouts away.
 57° 
The UnKnown
Sometimes tears feel like broken glass
Like pushing a gem out of my eyes
Causing them to scratch and burn
Causing my vision to blur
And my lashes to wet
Sometimes the gems that are tears fall and shatter
Like the first drop of rain on the pavement that is my bathroom floor
Soon causing a puddle of shimmering diamonds
There's beauty in the sad
And pain in the beauty
 46° 
David Lessard
I used to read your poems
but lately you don't write
you're silent and aloof
you know that isn't right.
You can't close a door once opened
you can't abolish all your dreams
you're a poet of the heart
mustn't fall apart at the seams.
Say what you can in words
they speak the message true
spoken from the heart
the poems will see you through.
A hermit's not your style
a recluse, you are not
never give up writing
of things that you've been taught.
I used to read your poems
I'd read them once again
if you would send them out
(this one's from a poet friend)
 45° 
Ameed
I don't care
I never did
I never will

I don't care about the stabs
I don't care about the lies
I don't care about the loss

I never did
I never will

I don't care about you abandoning me in the middle of nowhere or making me doubt every single person I meet or forcing me to look at the mirror and despise the foolishness I had.

I don't care about all the above.

I try to convince myself every night that I don't.
But, I do;
I fully keenly wholesomely do care and my care was my doom.
© Ameed
 35° 
Micaela
it’s official—
i hate being alone.
this isn’t a poem
but
it’s words
i needed to say
my negative thoughts aren’t the best of company
 26° 
Anastasia
I'm
Tired
Of
B
R
E
A
T
H
I
N
G

Tired of

S
E
   E
    I
     N
       G

This hatred in humanity
And
The
Delicates
Being

T    O     R    N

Apart
So quickly
Without listening
To their glistening
Fragile
Beautiful words
I'm sorry, beautiful people. You all are very much so.
 21° 
V
If you don't heal what hurt you,

You'll bleed on people who didn't cut you.
</3
 15° 
Ash
poinsettias and
pine needles and
cranberry spice and
you,

the golden lights reflected in your eyes,
your hand rising to touch my face, and

...nothing

you dissolve back into the pool of my daydreams,
our memories swept downstream in the river of my mind
gone as quick as they came, cold, unforgiving, never mine
 15° 
Ariana Bagley
I love him
I tell myself
I know that
We will be together forever
I don’t believe that
We could be separated
My thoughts tell me that
He’s the love of my life
Sometimes my heart lies and says
I could live an eternity
Without him
Like my friends say
“We’re perfect for each other”
And you can’t tell me
He’s not the one.

Now read from bottom to top.
 14° 
A
I can’t decide
if I’m comforted by the fact
that every thought  
I’ve ever had
has probably been had
before

And I don’t know
which is worse
That we are, perhaps
incredibly,
undeniably
not special at all
Or that we incredibly,
undeniably
are
June 21, 2019
 13° 
emnabee
The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.
A little escape from the madness.
Or maybe, into.
 13° 
FrankieM
I can only pour so much
Of myself into you
You say I'm half empty
I say I'm half full

It's hard to stay gentle
When you've been so cruel
I say I'm in love
You say I'm a fool
 12° 
misha
your name is
forbidden in
my mouth
or in my heart
because when
i think about
you;

i'll cry a little more,
hurt a little stronger
love a little softer
because you no longer
make me feel sober

i'm drunk on the
memory of you
if only i could chase you with pizza but shots don't work like that
 12° 
sun
she soaks herself in his hurt
and it d
            r
            i
            p                
     ­       s                
                         o
                         u
                          t

of him
ever so slowly,
infecting her.
all she wanted was for him to be
drained
so he could live without pain
but now, she thinks
living is pain.
 11° 
neha
remember when we were carefree
and nothing used to worry me
the neighbourhood was my kingdom
and the front yard was my palace

we used to play pretend
worlds of magic and fantasy
we made up spells and slayed dragons
but now i’m fighting my mind’s demons

ignorance was b l i s s
when did we become like this?
 11° 
Teemers
I only write,
when
I am in love
or
Falling apart.
 11° 
Jordan Ray

           Love                                  is                      
wr­itten                    in                    stone
       which                                slowly
             fades                          to
                   sand                   ..                                          
                    ­     ..                 ..
                             . . . . . . .
                              . . . . . .
                                . . . .
                                  . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
 11° 
Max
She said "I'm falling in love."

I said "I'm falling apart."
What's the difference?
 10° 
haysia
They said,
"The most beautiful art is
looking into someone's eyes
when they talk about the
things they love.
"
And I said,
"Or looking at someone you love.
Or maybe, just maybe,
by looking at the mirror
is the most beautiful art
anyone should appreciate."
Appreciation post for myself; for you and for everyone as well. You deserve more than the world has to offer.
 10° 
Kayla Gallant
My mind is much like the sea
The deeper you go
The darker it gets
Rough outline, might expand at a later date ❤️
 9° 
Madds
It’s the kind of sadness where your rib cage
Contorts
And twists and
Snaps.

Depression doesn’t float through my veins
It crawls through my bones, with dagger hands
And winding movements.

I cannot breathe.

And yet there was nothing taken from me.
But then again you took everything all at once the moment you looked in my eyes, covered my mouth and forced me down.

I don’t know why your smell still lingers in my every thought.

I’m not scared anymore.
 9° 
Veda Laurenski
You are the sea.
You are cruel.
You are cold.
And I love you.
 9° 
Enzo
The weirdest dream
I ever had
was you
not being in it
 9° 
Ann
keep your eyes closed love.

           e     t      
       m           i
    o                 m
s                        e  
                            s     all you have to
                                                                ­
                                                                ­ l                  is to what the sound
                                                           ­      i            n
                                                  ­                s           e
                                                               ­          t

                                                              ­                               v
                                                               ­                         a        e
                             ­                                          of the  w               s
                                                               ­                                       
                         ­                                                                 ­            tells  you
                                                                ­                                        to do.
"Keep your eyes closed, love. sometimes all you have to listen is to what the sound of the waves tells you to do."

When I was much younger, beaches were my second favorite places. I still love watching waves as they go by, crashing against each other and the whole process repeating all over again.
 9° 
Traveler
Whether a comma, or colon:
Punctuation slows my rolling
I need no period. When I end
no Capitalization when I begin
Rulelessly I flow my art
  Not a single!
Exclamation mark
Are you not the one
Who'll know?
Where a question mark
No longer goes

Warp the structure
Bend the lines
Put in repeat
Let emotion unwind
Make yourself
Your poetry's the best
Be your own ruler
Pass your own test

Take your own road
Where ever it leads
Lover or hater
It's all poetry!
Traveler Tim
.


Hay
No matter who you are
You have my deepest respect!

Vanity
All is vanity
The meanings of passion
The aesthetic expression
The lines we draw and stay within
Even love is beyond intent
Vanity transcends
Flowing from our pens
And so we breathe again
 9° 
Mancy
You may not be
The moon or
A star or
The sun
Beaming vision to the world.

But to me
You are
The cute little
Firefly
Casting hope in me.
 8° 
Ruth Nadler-Nir
Tend to me
Like a thirsty garden once forgotten
Sing to me
Like a crying infant, pure and innocent
Hug me
Like an old friend years after
Look at me
Like an abstract painting, more complex with each glance
Touch me
Like the the cold steel strings of your guitar
Love me
Like you did before
I poem I wrote early last year while thinking about with my ongoing need for co-dependence
 8° 
Rupert Pip
Break my bones;
cut my throat.
Pull me open,
learn the ropes.

Breath me in;
taste the fear.
Shank my skin;
stand and cheer.

Kick my head;
let me bleed.
Unbolt my veins;
enjoy the read.

Gouge my eyes;
punch my face.
Wrap me up
in your embrace.
Get to know me like I do you; inside and out.
TO SHED MY TEARS

I'm sitting on the curb in late July between Al's
Barbershop and Harry's Hardware watching ants
making their way to the gutter where they disappear.
Busby, Nebraska is not a big town--in fact, it's not
even a small town--in fact, it's not even a town. It's
three blocks long, but Ethel's Cafe is open for break-
fast and lunch. And most importantly, it's on the
way to the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation located
in the remote southwestern corner of South Dakota
where I'm headed on foot. I've been to Pine Ridge a
number of times. Something calls me there from time
to time. Not sure what it is--kind of like a spiritual
whisper. Only got 23 more miles to get there. I walk
wherever I go--reminds me of Wordsworth's THE
WORLD IS TOO MUCH WITH US. I say I'm going
to Pine Ridge, but actually I'm headed to Wounded
Knee Cemetery, about ten miles east of Pine Ridge,
where so many of the Lakota Sioux men, women,
and children were slaughtered, then buried, the
last massacre of indigenous people by the U. S.
Army in 1890. I sit on the ground and cry and cry.
The dry grasses soak up my tears as fast as they
hit the ground.

TOD HOWARD HAWKS
 8° 
MisfitOfSociety
You hid pieces of yourself,
In places you would never look.
Hidden within those inner landscapes;
Unable to remember their names.
 8° 
Tyler
Back when I was young my father told me:
That I’d grow up, and I would be lonely,
But not to go, chasing Cleopatra,
Or else I’d die just another bachelor.

He said;

“Oh those pretty girls, there are so many,
Just look around you and, you’ll find plenty;
When you’re hurt and broken by a lover,
Amen, don’t worry, just find another.”

I said;

“Daddy, what if none of them love me back?
What if I’m alone, when the sky turns black?
What If all I am, ain’t what I could be?
It’s hard to find wisdom, but not misery”

He said;

“Son don’t stress, there’ll always be someone
Looking just for you. You: their only one.
And don’t ever worry about heartbreak,
The road to love; it is made of mistakes.

So, count your fingers and count your blessings,
Invite Cleopatra to your wedding.
Never love ‘til you don’t have to chase it,
But when you do, don’t you ever waste it.”
 8° 
Ms L
You
You loved her vividness.
She loved your darkness.
You admired her strength.
She embraced your weakness.
You wiped her tears of happiness.
She mourned your tears of sadness.
And when you saw her flaws,
You suddenly changed.
Dismissing the fact that she first loved your imperfections
Above all your lovable complexions.
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