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Tear of the Clouds
mid December vivication
where steady rain accosts snow shod sod
cold and callous kiss of contempt
dawning different shades of blue
which leave me
paralyzed in apocalyptic premonitions
trapped in the grasp of a memory
salma ismail
People come to your life only
To leave you one day lonely
They leave you later or soon
And you will be alone like moon
They leave your hand like a falling leaf
And run away like thief
Getup! and set your crown
Lay your weaknesses down
Never ask them why?
Just raise your hand and say good bye
Christine Ely
Winter makes me always cold,
can’t see God in nature unfolding
The sun would be my companion
instead my faith goes phantoming
I want internal strength and grit
instead with growth and fear I’m fitted.
My character dull, worn like a knife
and I’ve no ideas in its righting.
Sarah Spencer
You see the slump in my shoulders
the way I carry myself
the burdens of boulders
that threaten my health.

When you ask what's wrong
I pull up my guard
don't want your pity or sad song
won't tell you why life's hard.

So if you want to know
I'll bottle it inside
wrap up all remains in a black bow
and tell you I'm fine.
Louis Aragon
Tes yeux sont si profonds qu'en me penchant pour boire
J'ai vu tous les soleils y venir se mirer
S'y jeter à mourir tous les désespérés
Tes yeux sont si profonds que j'y perds la mémoire

À l'ombre des oiseaux c'est l'océan troublé
Puis le beau temps soudain se lève et tes yeux changent
L'été taille la nue au tablier des anges
Le ciel n'est jamais bleu comme il l'est sur les blés

Les vents chassent en vain les chagrins de l'azur
Tes yeux plus clairs que lui lorsqu'une larme y luit
Tes yeux rendent jaloux le ciel d'après la pluie
Le verre n'est jamais si bleu qu'à sa brisure

Mère des Sept douleurs ô lumière mouillée
Sept glaives ont percé le prisme des couleurs
Le jour est plus poignant qui point entre les pleurs
L'iris troué de noir plus bleu d'être endeuillé

Tes yeux dans le malheur ouvrent la double brèche
Par où se reproduit le miracle des Rois
Lorsque le coeur battant ils virent tous les trois
Le manteau de Marie accroché dans la crèche

Une bouche suffit au mois de Mai des mots
Pour toutes les chansons et pour tous les hélas
Trop peu d'un firmament pour des millions d'astres
Il leur fallait tes yeux et leurs secrets gémeaux

L'enfant accaparé par les belles images
Écarquille les siens moins démesurément
Quand tu fais les grands yeux je ne sais si tu mens
On dirait que l'averse ouvre des fleurs sauvages

Cachent-ils des éclairs dans cette lavande où
Des insectes défont leurs amours violentes
Je suis pris au filet des étoiles filantes
Comme un marin qui meurt en mer en plein mois d'août

J'ai retiré ce radium de la pechblende
Et j'ai brûlé mes doigts à ce feu défendu
Ô paradis cent fois retrouvé reperdu
Tes yeux sont mon Pérou ma Golconde mes Indes

Il advint qu'un beau soir l'univers se brisa
Sur des récifs que les naufrageurs enflammèrent
Moi je voyais briller au-dessus de la mer
Les yeux d'Elsa les yeux d'Elsa les yeux d'Elsa.
what am i doing?
other than my constant overthinking
oh help me find my direction,
bring me to my resurrection.
lost, confused, cold and scared,
begging life for me to be spared.
i can’t see my end,
something i can’t comprehend.
oh, misty day
please don’t lead me astray.
soz for not posting, i’m touring europe at the moment!
And am forced to make sense of everything
People cling to emotional stuff
And shove love down our throats

I care she said
That's why my tears never dry whenever you are far from here

That's why I die a little
Cause my brother felt sadnes
And my sister stumbled
And suddenly family is everything

But you have to wonder
What happens to family
If greed takes over

And the love for possessions
Takes away the love
And its value increases
And suddenly you care
And you care so much about the earth
And the wealth that blinds
Most if not all

But you don't care about them
Or love
And suddenly they
Ain't everything
But MONEY is everything
He feasted on his pie in the sky,
got fat off all his fantasy.
Stumbled back into the here and now,
and denied the rations of reality.
The older you become in your mind,
fewer words you'll start to find.
Heavy Heavy Rains...
Under the Old Umbrella
Holes here and there.
Drenched in some time.
Still Blame the Rains.
Fix the Umbrella Man Why Blame the Rain.
Learn patience
Like it's your first steps.

Learn to be patient with yourself.
Learn to be patient with others.
Learn to be patient with your environment.

You are

Do so patiently.
Just need to hear this myself really
Someone asked me to draw
Draw what heartbreak looks like
I finally got tired of drawing a broken heart
And I started drawing you
Cameron Banowsky
this it cannot be explained.
i cannot wish it away.
every return yields the same.
I want to stay, but I drift further away.
where I go I can't say.
I wonder when I will finally get to that last day.

life wasn't meant to be fighting pain.
Amanda Jane
mental illness is the
most expensive thing
i've ever owned but
never wanted
Carmen Jane
I never knew this
"Favorite" has two syllabus
I thought it has three.
Haiku syllabus favorite
liars lie and cheaters cheat.
what they don't know
is to never mess with a snitch.
Do you think a girl could love a boy who writes for her a million poems?  That's what I plan to do.
your heart
I demand you to notice me if you say you love me.
Today my friend told me
I was acting strange
I gave her the
of a sugar high
But really,
I was just being
atticus wilson
For 9 years
It’s sat on my desk,
Through a move,
Through winters with windows open
For 9 years,
sitting, watching

Tonight I take it down
Remember the girl who made it
Way back in 3rd grade
I unfold it
For the first time
Scribbled in the wings
She had scrawled a note

I have a crush on you

Nine years,
This declaration has sat on my desk
Watching me
Letting me look back to better times
All the while
Telling me she liked me
On the wings of a sticky note crane
As crazy as this is, I never opened it before, out of fear I couldn’t refold it, so its message has sat there in wait

as she trudged up the mountain
      / \
    /     \
  /         \
/             \
victory pulsing through her veins

badum badum badum badum

her eyes set intently on the peak

a deathly stare

she knew she could do anything

anything at all

she was anything but meek

this world is not for the meek
The line “this world is not from the meek” I took from a poem I wrote last school year called “Story of a Lonely Bird”.
i laugh at the irony
that love broke my heart.
A poet is no more than a person
A mother
A daughter
A lover  
Someone needing release
Or someone needing to recover

It’s the art they create when that ball of ink or stick of led dances on the canvas they so perfectly prepared.
And when the end result and their purpose become perfectly paired.
Here we look
Over the city
Admiring the lights

Then I look
Over my shoulder
As I’ve realized

You’re my light
Noni Winters
I stumbled upon you
Like a child
that finds a pretty stone

Bewildered by your presence
I sat and admired
Counting your cracks
Caressing what makes you glitter

You stood infront of me
Bold and beautiful
Like nothing I'd ever seen

And as you gave me your attention
I think I misconstrued your intentions

I wanted to put you in my pocket
But you said no

So there you sit
Perfectly unpolished
A love

I can only visit
i want to know you
i want to really know you

i want to know all your secrets
i want to know all your crazy stories
i want to know all the freckles on your face
i want your atoms to know mine
i want to know what makes tears drip from your beautiful blue eyes
i want to know what makes your ecstatic smile
i want to know what makes you tremble from fear
and what makes you want to rise every morning
i want to know what love means to you
i want to know everything about you

i know it's scary
but i want to know you
i really want to know you
every bit of you
“the simplest definition of our learning to count to infinity”

wrote those words
to a stranger in pain, awful pain,
asking him to count his blessings

now awful pain
no stranger to me

a pain four decades long,
that the surgeon promised was fully excised.

but today was triggered,
chest pain dagger ingredient emergency room

so I am counting for,
but not to,
counting on


when the wounding cannot be recalled,
only a minor scar to struggle from whence
came it from

which is the definition of reaching the
infinity place,

where finite comes to rest
dec 10 2019
Green has
always been my
favorite eye color, now
I know why. I'm drowning
in a pool of green and I have no
desire to be rescued. You could pull
me under, keep me within an arms reach
of oxygen, and I'd still call your arms home
I'd rather be whining about unrequited teenage love
than to suffer the complicated things about adult relationships
I miss worrying about my appearance the way I did
in a idealized way
secretly hoping it would all be a matter of time

I miss being alone in my room
not being alone in my apartment

I do realize I'm stronger
I do realize I'm wiser
I do realize I'm independent
I do realize I'll be through it
But I still cry and feel fearful
I'm jealous of the rain
It gets close to you
Closer than I ever will
It touches your skin
It combs your hair
It comes when you're sad
It stays when you're happy
I love you but you don't love me
So I say
I'm jealous of the rain
Sorry I haven't written anything as of late. I have been really busy with school. I really hope you enjoy.
Edit: thanks for the comments the original song is Jealous by Labirinth
She takes the stand
With the voice of millions on her back
And speaks the fact that we all know,
far too well to be true -                  
                                           Me too.

She is heard but not believed,
She is heard with faith deceived .

When will it be enough -
Is one in six not enough ?
Is one sister, one friend
still - not enough?

one colleague, one mother, one wife, one lover -
one teacher, one doctor, one preacher, one author -
one husband, one son, one brother.
Which one will it take, to stop
the non-consensual clock
and make us realise that -

Time. Is. Up.
you might not
have been my first love
but you were the one
who hurt the most.
- i ache for you but i'm still bruised.
Gone Lifting

The sun
Now shortened
It goes crying in
Of kissing
Your perfect
Soft skin
Since the sun is brief in winter.  I thought this poem should reflect that.
Winter sunrise on my last and longest day

Wrap me in a winding sheet of flaming orange

Take the reds and pinks from midnight blue to make my shroud

Let me rest in heaven fire

Drown my tired soul in colour

Drinking the final carnival

Warmth for my bones

A funeral of skies and wonders
Saying goodbye to a good man,
If you could read my mind,
You’d see a thousand papers
Filled with broken poetries
And deadbeat proses
Full of woeful verses
With mournful pieces
Of unfinished stories
That are yet to be written
And failed to be spoken;
If you could read my mind,
You’d hear horrible screams
And earsplitting weeps
From shattered dreams,
Kept in a nasty notepad,
Scribbled on a bed
Of bloodstained words,
Ringing in my head.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see the shadows
That lurk within me;
You’d hear the bellows,
Screeching the words
“I’m tired,”
“I’m a failure,”
“I’m stupid –”
I know it sounds stupid,
It’s pathetically foolish
And seems too *******.
If you could read my mind,
You’d feel the tears
I had ever failed to cry;
You’d see the people
That make the weak weaker;
You’d see the monsters
That consume my head;
You’d hear the hollers
That failed to be freed;
You’d see the heart
That still bleeds and bleeds.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see the face
I’ve failed to show back then,
The face I’ve faked back then.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see a character
I had ever failed to become
If you could read my mind,
You’d be able to read
A book you never wished
To touch and read,
But sometimes I still wish
Someone could read my mind.
Amy Dedman
escaping the stifled claws of society
she gulps the tangled energy
vibrantly gleaming
but not quite beaming
she rewinds back
back to a crisp January morning
when the walls didn’t scream
and life was a dream
When my eyes met
hers for the first time,
they spelled the word “love”
Another poem I had in a dream
It doesn’t
feel like

But I don’t know
what love feels like

I’ll never know

maybe it was just
one of those things
that wasn’t meant for me
light comes
dark arises
smoke emerges
water encapsulates
he is your savior
he is your soldier
trap him in a box
for sure it was like a fox
clear, rare and bare
unknowingly magic
and a bit ironic
he tames your flames
he also burn your bridges
he is a more
you will never be sure
until it fires up
in your heart
it become an art
continue burning
continue loving

On the hard days,
The sad days,
The I miss you days,
Please come snuggle days,
On the days when emotions are more mountain and less mole hill,
More swing and less steady,
On the days when you gave your best and still felt short,
I am here,
Rooting for you!
You are always enough
Exactly as you are!
“You’re not good enough”
Is the one sentence you should
Never tell yourself.
Hi. I’ve been struggling with this my whole life. It’s like I’ll never be able to convince myself. I feel like my poetry is at a decline. I feel as if nothing I write is good. I couldn’t tell you the amount of “drafts” &  private poems I have on here just because I’m afraid.
Afraid of ridicule.
Afraid of hating myself more.
Afraid of everything.
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