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In this brave new world of no handshakes and multiple rounds of hand sanitiser there exists a blessed irony: social distancing is bringing my neighbourhood closer together. The solidarity of a shared smile - albeit bestowed from an apologetic distance of two metres - lifts the spirits, straightens the shoulders, and tickles the heartstrings more than any viral meme (no pun intended) could ever do.
reigning cereal
i don't wear my heart on my sleeve;
i wear it around my neck

Monochrome Dreamer
I stopped writing

For awhile.

Because I found that when I write
It’s so real.
It’s like hearing back my own words from the lips of someone wiser

Not from a broken child,
But from a bitter miser.
I am awake always
Painfully aware. I can’t sleep and I can’t quiet the noise in my head.
violence on the streets
the man is begging to breathe

cut the last shred of hope
rioters walking on lonely bones

fire on their hearts
pain filled the carts

no place to escape
hell with the fool babbling hearsay

their feet stay where the innocents bleed
violent sounds made the city sweep

with rebellion comes what may
ancient wounds won’t obey
justice for George Floyd!!!!
The demons haunt me in my sleep
They follow me

You’re the demon I meant to forget
You keep coming back
Scaring me
Hurting me

I keep fighting the demons
The demons in my head
The demons under my bed
The demons in my soul

But you’re the worst demon

The one that tells me what to do

You control me
You’re the demon in my heart
Look like hell?
give the doc' a bell
take some tablets
and get well,
maybe you just look
like hell


the weekend
the worlds end


making poodles out of pipecleaners
seems the only way to go

coffee first though.
Is like rhythm of heart....
Every breath, every blink of the eye....
It is beat by beat....
Moment by moment..... all there is,
This.........all we need
Enjoy your life:)

This poem is inspired by Stephanie Wong
Our photographs
capture the many memories you've forgotten.
The ones you've thrown out
but I kept close to heart.
Dennis Parkhomenko
They say if you replay
The same thing over and over
It will drive you crazy
Well I disagree.

For I have been replaying
The first time I held her hand
The first time she put her head on my shoulder
The first time she kissed me
The first time she said, "I love you!"
I have watched the moments over and over.
Yet I still cant get enough of it
Lovers, like me, dear Mitali,
You'll see, are found fictionally,
Or maybe in your dearest dreams.

That mythical true lover,
Someone you've craved for,
Maybe since forever and ever.

I am him, I am him, I am him.
Lovers like me, you'll see in literature or maybe just your dreams.

My HP Poem #1849
©Atul Kaushal
I made a mistake
I meant to be perfect

But I colored outside the lines
On purpose

I crossed the line
That meant to keep the lines inside

Because I'm not supposed to do it
I long for my pencil, I long to draw again
I long to draw my pain
I long to exercise my brain
I long for my pencil
My friend in strange times
When shades replace rhymes,
And line, words.
When I seek to shade my pain
Something's cannot be described by words
Some battles are not won by swords
When these things seek to burst my brain,
I seek my pencil
Ghost of Jupiter
the fragrance of white lilies
permeating the still air

soft brush of silken petals
on translucent flesh

blood red orchid drop
bleeding through the vignettes

through the charcoal outlines 

black and white thoughts mix
into murky shades of grey

this monotone life
slowly fades

but the fragrance of white lilies
still remains
Bunny Rubinstein
I have kissed boys


People in between

But lately I have been kissing bottles

Their lips are colder than yours

But slowly I have realized that the pounding headache when I wake is less hurtful than the shattering in my chest

Yet as these toxins rush through my veins

I can't help but miss the tracing of your fingers along my skin

Miss the numbness of the world when you lie with me

But when I wake I remember that a headache is treated with an aspirin

While heartache

Well if you have a cure for Heartache let me know
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.
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
Some Northeastern PA red wine
on my darkened deck
a dog barks
a toad sings
to find his mate
I am something of a toad too
and drunk enough
I will sing with him
when you've lost everything

the song of toad will do
Patrick Harrison
depression comes
like a roaring wave
to wash me away.
Nat Lipstadt
Late afternoon, tween twilight but before the dusk
in time for afternoon prayers, ******* followed by
the evening service, The Name reached out unto me
to touch my face, wake me from a lifelong slowing slumber.

My man! My good man, I’ve been numbering those days,
you will have no disagreement that you’re quite the closer,
close by, the chapter finale of our story, your living, a well
thumbed novella, enjoyed by many, and a favorite o’mine.

Do not restless rustle, no busing bustle, the Set Table cleared,
tabulations done, the sums and dividend distributed, in sync,
your words well distributed, remainders to be dearly shared, saved,
showings of great love, valleys of feeling, these your humble attire.

Look how easy the (our) words come, the fluids of a man for which
we have been long patient be awaiting, the company all in readiness,
for confession and days of permanent new creation, fast beginnings,
think on it, to be called child once more, how glorious this unknown!

Dimensions recorded, measurements tailor-taken, silk tuxedo deep bleu,
luxe, a hint of violet, here-presented, patent, the leather for blue suede
winged dancing shoes no airport dare ask you remove, before they beg you, say, save grace, just once, pronounce The Name, the one of Seventy!

To walk, talk, rhyme and theorize, to forget and memorize, refreshing,
knowing nothing lasts, except things that last forever, last never,
yet decisions need completion, choices, ordering songs you’ve loved best, replete all sorrowed pains, uplifting prayers, hallelujah hymns, last rites..

You, a world to us, a microcosm of a triathlon life, juggling the many, last of a lineage who could pray, making rain, reading poetry to angels, giving comforting absolution for making storms, plagues, tidal waves, volcanoes, concentration camps, death marches, stillborn children, incurable sadness.

Quick when the curtain calls, listen close for the cue, toe the mark,
take position, hands upward joined, eyes down, ahead are fearless words,
a soliloquy lasting hundreds of years, balances aligned, only now you  needed, to make mercy allocations, closing periods in places properly positioned.

then to commence the writing of only love poetry forevermore.

Sabbath May 23
woke from a half-nap, while listening to music heard a certain song, then wrote in a single sitting of thirty minutes
John White
I just want it to end.

The hopelessness, the fear,
the constant critic in my head:
I've lived with them all for too long.

All I've ever known is this war, this endless battle.
There's nothing wrong with wanting it to end.
To wish that it didn't is cruel.

But why can't the best solution be the simplest?
Why do I have to keep fighting?

At times it's deafening,
and I'm so exhausted.

Why can't I just lay down in no man's land
and let this battle fall silent around me?

Why can't that be the end?

Because... I'll never know what's possible.
I’m liquorice
The classic kind
Dark and bold
Lingering but not loquacious
Biting but not bitter
Sugared but never saccharine
A half-forgotten flavor
You may not like me as I am
After all
I’m an acquired taste
Here lies Pandora's box
Not quite a curse
Not quite a dark pit
But a diamond
So sharp
It will open up your wounds
Just by looking at it
Open with caution
Open with care
In fact
Consider not opening the box
Consider that the brightness
Is as sharp as the edge
Consider reconsidering
Re-reading your journals
I wrote it after I was sorting through old journals and opened one and BAM, I was on the floor in FLOODS of tears. They are now in a box awaiting a hand written warning/note to self.
I'm falling up
            I'm floating down
                              I've had enough
                                            Drugs take the crown
Manipulated By Addiction
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)
Nana Alli
Roses are red
Violet are blue
My love for you is always new
My heart is yours
My soul becomes brand new
With each kiss you give

Too bad you left me
All alone in the dark
Craving for you
Waiting for you
Is all I do.
Thinking in words
Verdant Quo
like water
I poured myself into her until she was overflowing at the brim

like reinforced steel
I bridged my heart to hers and welded myself to her soul

like the sun
I filled myself with light to cover her darkness

like a blanket
I shielded her from the harsh world underneath the covers

like magnets
I orbited her aura until we inevitably collided

like a seed
I felt myself growing up from her

Then, like an idiot
I could tell she felt nothing.
And over time,
My pen stopped bleeding
But my heart didn't
CJ Tims
I am ashamed
At how broken i am.
I apologize
For the amount of stress
I may cause in the midst of your
Efforts of trying to keep me held together.
I apologize
that i continue to fall apart
Before your glue has time to dry.
I apologize
That every time you pick a piece of me up,
Yet another breaks.
I am trying.
You are fixing me slower than i am breaking,
And i am ashamed.
Thank you.
Thank you for not giving up
On a broken piece of nothing.
i never used to smoke
but since you left,
it’s the only time i can seem to breathe
the black-rose
she’s too strong,
she’s too much,
she’s too tough to love.

she’s too hard,
she’s too broken,
she’s not enough.

she’s imperfect,
she’s wild,
she’s lost in the wind.
she’s insane,
sending signs of chaos from within.
"It's ok, I feel sad too sometimes."

But not like this.

"You're faking it."

I'm only telling the truth.

"I know how you feel."

Not on my level

"Stop being so lazy!"

lazy  ≠ exhausting

"Get over it, and stop feeling sorry for yourself."

I can't get over a mental illness.

"It's not that bad if you aren't cutting yourself"

Self harming isn't always cuts.

"Don't give your life away!"

Actually, good idea, what do I have to lose?
I have had depression for a long period of time. These things have been said to me. Even though I kept silent, this is what I would really like to tell them back.
Ellie Sutton
The creak of a spine
And scent of a musty page
Intoxicates me
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.
The Untold
I wish someday
I'll be considered old enough
To feel.
To feel love
To feel emotion
To feel hurt.
By then I'll be long dead.
no one knows,
everyone wants you,
you're never alone
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.
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.
Melanie Jackson
you kissed me like
i cleansed  you like
but you crushed me like
and i blew you away like
I cannot compose brilliant poems, sonnets, or verses,

and I cannot speak to you in Latin or Greek;

I cannot move you with any language made up by man.

Love is the only only language I could touch you with

If you only knew how much I could love you.

If you knew I love you;

If I were brave enough to tell you at all.
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