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A Poet's Voice
I offer you

One chain,
Of delicate gold links
From my heart to yours

One rope,
Of beautiful tinsel
And bindings
Of soft, snug leather cuffs

I would give you your freedom,
but that is the one thing
that you already have.
Lay here on top of me
but not like what
you might expect
using me as a pillow
your head rests on my chest
gently stroke your back
slowly as you fall asleep
let me sing you a melody
kiss you goodnight
Ivy Davenport
I asked him if he wanted another bite of icecream

and he told me he wanted me forever:)

I'm not going to correct him...
it was the cutest thing in the world oml i cant even describe how sweet
Chloe Peacock
I have a Sapphic longing

I want to feel your lips
so soft
pink and plump

stroak your hair
so long
dark brown and curly

caress your skin
so smooth
freckled and delicate

But you would never love me
you barely know I exist.

so I will continue to sit here
in the dark

with nothing but my Sapphic longing.
sitting here
in the rain
trying to
keep myself

thinking of
all the lies
you fed me
from the palm
of your hand

thinking of
the broken promises
you had no problem
washing away

thinking of
all of the pain
you have sent me
away with

thinking of
how you can not
even bring yourself
to say

i'm sorry
lemon lies and lavender love
lovely and lascivious
with lolling grace and languid liquidity
slaking lust
licking languorously
lemon lies and lavender love
no wrong love
no more harm
no more... anymore
Goodbye ♥
How beautiful...
Rupert Pippingford
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.
Rafael Melendez
My heart is beating,
Louder now.
It's like it knows it's,

with me.

Soon, I wonder if
it will stop beating.
Matanyahu Ben Zion
The Corona of the Sun
Is everlasting

The Corona of the virus
Is a temporary crown on a knight of disease

The black light of this fell Corona
Is made of dust and tears and ash
It will fall when the next wind blows

The Corona of the Eternal
Will outlast and outlive

The pain is only temporary
As, too, our spirits will outlast

We will outlive
For we are mirrors of the Corona
Of Glory
you make the nastiest things sound so pretty
I am an artist
I draw my life.
I am a teacher
I teach my steps.
I am a doctor
I treat my destiny.
I am a lawyer
I judge my actions.
I am a builder
I build my success.
I am a translator
I translate my opinion.
I am a  photographer
I take  my memories.
I am a writer
I write my future.
I am a chef
I cook my mood.
I am a businesswoman
I manage myself.
Michael R Burch
by Michael R. Burch

for Beth

The night is full of stars. Which still exist?
Before time ends, perhaps one day we’ll know.
For now I hold your fingers to my lips
and feel their pulse ... warm, palpable and slow ...

once slow to match this reckless spark in me,
this moon in ceaseless orbit I became,
compelled by wilder gravity to flee
night’s universe of suns, for one pale flame ...

for one pale flame that seemed to signify
the Zodiac of all, the meaning of
love’s wandering flight past Neptune. Now to lie
in dawning recognition is enough ...

enough each night to bask in you, to know
the face of love ... eyes closed ... its afterglow.

Keywords/Tags: afterglow, stars, suns, planets, zodiac, moon, orbit, gravity, universe, love, radiation, night, exist, existence, time
I've drank the finest of wine
Down to the bottom of the bottle
Only to witness an ocean alone
Barely surviving my own hands

A fire burned through my viens
That was blew out by the wind
Breezing through the leaves
A calmness that sits with me
Before calmness dismisses me

I walked across the tallest blue sky
Where wide winged birds soar high
Til promises of white clouds turn grey
And so there I fell with the rain
Dripping through the lowest gutter

Many times I was buried, lying in dirt
Like a grave, needing no help
Finding the dark inside of myself
But I always rise with the blades
Of the greenest fresh spring grass

No matter what feeling I catch
None of them seem to everlast
Why is the moon round 🌝
Because it loves to go
around in circles 🌝

Fun silly one ** 🌝🌝🌝
Scott Montgonery
I’ve been on this earth for 50 years, what have I achieved what are my fears.
If I live another 5 may i hope that I will stay alive ,
It is the of Armageddon  the virus of now is time to be forgiven.
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)
Harshit Nangia

I don't love you anymore
Still, I am unable to love someone else.

Nothing brings me more joy knowing,
You were my first love.
Nothing brings me more sorrow knowing,
You will be my last love.

She asked me if I loved her
I told her I did.
But when I looked inside me,
I knew I lied.

I couldn't break her heart,
Because she loved me.
She wasn't the heroine of the story,
But she loved me.

I didn't give her a reason,
But she understood.
It broke her, upset her and angered her
That I just couldn't love her .

My heart is closed and abandoned,
It doesn't allow anyone to enter it
Because somewhere in there
You still live in it .

I have been with many,
Didn't love one .
Never actually been with you
But always knew that you were the one

I still try to mingle,
Everytime I can .
I really like them  
But love, I don't know if I can.
The crack of a coke can
Takes me back
To summer days
We woke up
You came over
I made some sandwiches
We shared the same plate
your name is
forbidden in
my mouth
or in my heart
because when
i think about

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
When butterflies fall in love, do they feel humans in their stomach?
and I realised
everything I missed
like feeling her lips curl
into a smile or a kiss

I look into her eyes
while she stares into the abyss
her fingers uncurl just a little bit
and we fall asleep like this
Micah G
Can I give a girl anything  
Except what she wants
Demons are just FALLEN ANGELS.
They fell
And unlike angels,
DEMONS have a STORY to tell.
Good and evil.
It's just two sides of the same coin.
Stained Glass
The version of me you created in your mind is not my responsibility.
I've been trying
to figure out myself
figuring out you.

It's not working.

Neither has.
Neither will.
Why am I like this?
to me,
you are
an art

                              to you,
                              I was
                              a tragedy
you still remain, and will always be
a fine piece of art
to me.
// edit: thank you for having this in the daily. ♡
James Cavet
Fresh on my mind,
you send me your
heart over the wire.
I responded in kind,
with a whisper in code.

I pushed my hand into
the screen wanting it
to be warm but you're
ice cold.

I can't wait to assemble
this in person.

It could be quite complex
but I have this degree;
worth only burning.

I'll just make up these
words as we go along;
guided by electricity
and minds in the vat.

Experiments in coping
with no reality we can feel;
nothing to believe but
this time with you that
might expire soon.
Ann Taylor
I think God
spent extra time on you
and the way you look at me
makes me feel like
that applies to me too
stories are made for enchantment
our hearts are even meant
we hold hands
staring at each others eyes
and there's a spark
the hints of lies
and i said goodbye
through filtered glass
my hand
a shadow
my voice
a blur
i chased you
and you met my gaze
until you were gone, completely
a quarter-past three
the end of
you and me
in your long absence,
soft rain watered the garden
growing in my heart -
it waits patiently for you;
my divine endless summer
our heartbeats
can never be in sync;
for I know mine
will always be beating
faster than yours
Mrs Anybody
i should
move on
i kinda
already have

but there
seems to be
a tiny part
in my heart
that belongs
to him
also check out my other poems!  :)
when ever i hear your name
my heart instantly
to the bottom of a
Love didn't end wars
It started them
Words' Worth
The panic
Is more dangerous
Than the pandemic
Andreya Celeste
If love is the answer,
how come so many
problems come from it?
Donall Dempsey

I like to say
your name

when you're
not here

turn you
into sound

conjure you out of
thin air

so that you appear
before me

dressed in sound

memory sketching in
the rest of you

as if sound
was just an outline

and love
colours you in

adding the voice last
so I can hear you say.

"Hello you..!"
and there you are

as present
as present

can be.

I like to say
your name

when you're
not there.
Shofi Ahmed
Buy the top guns in the world
now all in one same album.
Trump, Jinping and Putin
their ode to the public
now meticulously is one same lyric.
Get in, stay in, the home is big!

Believe it or not, it's big
Bigger than Times Square,
Palace Square or Tiananmen Square.
But how they are so sure
have they seen my home or yours?
Yes they say and surely not alone
in one voice they sing, love it
or loath it lockdown is sweet
they saw the next big thing.
Dare not follow their coronavirus lyric
it could be the grave the next we step in.

What we see now, what are we to learn?
When the Almighty wants to whisper
there can be no other power broker.
In no time the sky can turn upside down
and lo back to the basic home flies the lark!
Current British poet laurate wrote a poem on the same theme see below. Two poems eyeing on the current lockdown phenomena from a different perspective. His one is more consoling while my poem insists more on taking a note on our dependence on God.

The question is, comes a catastrophe and of course we should try to overcome it by all means. At the same time, we may pass on without diving deep, without downloading the attached massage that it may come with. We can just skim through the email. But how long can we survive before seeing another catastrophe unfold on us? Because we might be ignoring an attached message.

Lockdown by Simon Armitage
And I couldn’t escape the waking dream
of infected fleas
in the warp and weft of soggy cloth
by the tailor’s hearth
in ye olde Eyam.
Then couldn’t un-see
the Boundary Stone,
that ****-eyed dice with its six dark holes,
thimbles brimming with vinegar wine
purging the plagued coins.

Which brought to mind the sorry story
of Emmott Syddall and Rowland Torre,
star-crossed lovers on either side
of the quarantine line
whose wordless courtship spanned the river
till she came no longer.

But slept again,
and dreamt this time
of the exiled yaksha sending word
to his lost wife on a passing cloud,
a cloud that followed an earthly map
of camel trails and cattle tracks,
streams like necklaces,
fan-tailed peacocks, painted elephants,
embroidered bedspreads
of meadows and hedges,
bamboo forests and snow-hatted peaks,
waterfalls, creeks,
the hieroglyphs of wide-winged cranes
and the glistening lotus flower after rain,
the air
hypnotically see-through, rare,
the journey a ponderous one at times, long and slow
but necessarily so.
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