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 200° 
labyrinth
steal a TV
they’ll call you a burglar
rob a bank
they’ll call you a robber
rip off big, so big, enron big
lehman brothers big
big as a.i.g. for instance
they’ll call you corporate america
and instead of giving you sentence  
they’ll even give you a few bucks extra
say, as your penance
 56° 
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° 
Eshwara Prasad
Is perplexity embedded in the mind the source of poetry?
 36° 
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.
 23° 
Zoe Grace
I really dont know
How i feel at all, but i
Want to feel loved please.
 16° 
Sul-E
There used to be a bottle on the wall.
It was very green.
I'm sure it was the loneliest green bottle
that I had ever seen
It used to sit on the wall
all day and all night
And every day, when I looked out of the window,
it was always in my line of sight
Then one day, a cat came along.
Something was going to happen; I could tell
The cat then accidentally nudged it
and off the wall, it fell
When it had fallen off the wall
it had dropped with a very loud sound.
There were all these little pieces of the green bottle
all over the ground
Then the cat yelped
and I knew it had gotten hurt
I could quite obviously see its paws were caked in
blood and dirt
The bottle wasn't harmful in the beginning
it did not look the slightest bit treacherous
but after a nudge in the wrong direction
it became very dangerous
Now I look back at you smiling
next to me on the big armchair
Your fingers running through your soft locks of hair.
You remind me a lot
of that green bottle.
In the beginning, you were harmless
you were all sorts of fun.
Now you hurt me.
Could you tell me why
as I don't quite know what I've done
 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.
 15° 
cs wondering
This is not a poem;
This is an artist screaming to be heard in the abyss of life's harshest realities.

This is not romantic;
This is an artist learning to to be in love with her very self.

All this years, I have been trying so hard to create a person I could love.

Little did I realize, what I was looking for has always and-
will always be within me.

I think I've learnt to love myself.
I think I'm finally free.

This is a poem;
This is an artist screaming to be heard in the abyss of life's harshest realities.

This is romantic;
This is an artist learning to to be in love with her very self.

All this years, I have been trying so hard to create a person I could love.

Little did I realize, what I was looking for has always and-
will always be within me.

I think I've learnt to love myself.
I think I'm finally free.
I think-

— c.s wondering
Hello friends!

It's been so many years since I last came on here to create poems. I guess something sparked inside of me tonight, and just like that- I'm back.

And I hope everyone has been well x
 14° 
Virtuous
I think the sun has grown jealous
Of my friendship with the moon
I prefer dusk to dawn
And midnight instead of noon
 14° 
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.
 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° 
Lexie
Press me against you
Like flowers in a book
 12° 
Tatiana
I'd set fire to the air you breathe
so you can burn with every
inhale
and
exhale
©Tatiana
 11° 
Max
She said "I'm falling in love."

I said "I'm falling apart."
What's the difference?
 11° 
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° 
Luna
How to become a poet:
Let someone rip your soul apart.
And in the need of mending ,
You will replace it with words.
 10° 
Contraducción
"I'm not a poet. I don't feel like one.
I like writting. That's all."
Have a nice day
 9° 
Star BG
Human life is like a book...
The middle being birth.
The end death.
And the middle
a souls adventure of expansion.

Human life is like a book.
A grand story
unwinding with feelings as words
and moments as footmarks.

Once concluded it’s bond
in spirits core memory
to take one then
to a new book-cover of spirit.
A new beginning of
chapters where a sequel begins
with a beginning, middle, and end.
First poem of the day.
 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° 
Dom
He was smooth but not understanding
He was charming but not loyal
He was beautiful but a manipulator    
I knew this would come to and end
I knew I was a fool
He was secure but brought my insecurity
He was strong inside but not loving
He was my first but never mine
 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° 
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.
 8° 
Sam Tate
Sometimes, the words don’t come.

The consistent stream of consciousness, ceases.

I am left with nothing to say.

There is a beauty in the broken mind.

Like an abandoned building taken by nature.

It is not that my mind does not work.

It is that it works too fast,

And I am left behind,

Scrabbling in the dust,

Desperately seeking a connection,

In the discarded fragments of thought.

I am fighting a losing battle.

I fear the white flag will soon arise.

And signal the end.
 8° 
Z
fall feels like our expired summer
leaves would burst with green as i drove to your house
the sun rays would beat down on us
now the leaves have turned sour, they wither and fall
the sun rays barely make it through the clouds
they warm my cheeks for a dull moment
i miss you
 8° 
shatteredpoet
i never intended
to take apart
all the pieces
you glued back
together
 8° 
Zywa
Hygiene costs smooth rooms,

electricity and a --


lot of loneliness.
Verhaal "Opgegeild" (Story "Turned on", 1991, Kristien Hemmerechts)

Collection "Shelter"
 7° 
justoneman
I’m sick of all these love songs
Written about another
Sonnets and odysseys
Desperate for a Lover

I want to enjoy the silence
Nihility subdue
Equally alone
As I am with you

I try to reflect Compassion
A metric of good health
Psuedo-neo Truism
Learn to “Love Thy Self”
 7° 
sancus
you take all of the
stars in the night sky with you
whenever you leave.
 7° 
Ben Palomino
I converse with
The voices in my head

They talk slowly
So their guidance isn't misread
I have a few drafts. Not sure if it needs more or if short is better
 7° 
A
Dear death,

I have met life,
He wants me to fight,
But I'm so weak-
So can we meet?
I am but
one star
in the
universe
that you
deserve.
I am but
a rain's
puddle
when
it is
the ocean
that you
need to
swim in.
Wish
upon me.
Dance
and jump
within me.
I long
to be
enough
for thee.



written by me... ..
 7° 
Emma P
Sun
When I say
that you are my Sun,
I don’t mean that you are
Luminous,
Brilliant,
Gilded,
Beautiful,
Bold,
Warm,
Or even the center of my universe.
I simply mean that
I cannot look at you
Without hurting
 7° 
Carlo C Gomez
an interstellar vacuum
is far from empty,
all the water in the universe
is melted comets,
and it floods all reason.

bloodstar from afar
or Cape Canaveral close,
no astral projection there,
only a cipher in a foreign quadrant
until...teardrops,
big, wet, unsympathetic drops.

hear it now!
the sonic boom of
marooned tourism,
in short shots,
fast cuts,
horizonal eddy currents
ripe with thorns,
like lakes of suspicion,
if God is listening
then this mission is in trouble.

downcycled planet in the wires
and cigarette lighters,
a home without space,
Andromeda chained in sacrifice
to sate the monster,
her punishing beauty
cascading over the peril
that everything in the universe
is recyclable – even you!
 7° 
Özcan Sh
I wish
her scars were on my heart
and not on her arms.
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