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helping the kids with homework

no one told you,
was part of the job description
paycheck earner a-ok,
gruff but tender lover,
knowing her special places,
building a tree swing,
a tree house safe and satisfactory,
one the neighbors envy

taking them to the hospital for
broken arms and chemotherapy,
part two of the non-routine but a very possible foreseeable,
going to school to give that principal a look
that will make him think twice before suspending
one of his for defending himself

you remember your daddy doing the same for you,
forgetting to repeat the tar and hiding that came later

the tucking in, the pretense ouch
when your end of day
scratchy beard ruffling the skin of babies,
carrying tissues in a toolbox,
never heard of, nevertheless done,
tho not a memory defining the future inclusive,
definitely a learning ability, a likeability

doing homework, nuh uh,
no way jose, don’t dare let them
know how you never got a gold star,
always sat in the back row, outta sight,
all day dreaming, chemistry rhymes with mystery,
and poetry is rhymes needing a big vocabulary
which means lots of words for a man who don’t talk much

and that ain’t exactly his strong suit

sure, heard of Shakespeare but never met him,
know where the on/off computer button hides,
the rest is up to them;
got no email address, but taught them sir and ma’am,
how to address humans with respect,

i’ll promise them anything
but not doing any homework,
unless it the kind that that makes

a home work
I dont know what is this weird attraction
that is pulling me towards you again and again
I know you are someone else's love
You have given yourself to her
But I want to love you, wrap you in my arms
Watch you fall asleep and just watch you dream
Something about your eyes, they have a different story to tell
Something about your lips, I wonder how they taste like
Something about your hands, wanting me to hold them forever
I want to scream out loud and tell the whole world I love you
But no , I cant do that
All I can do is stalk your instagram
And tell myself, Damnn how I wish you were mine
Jay Lewis
You want to know the truth?
It hurt.

What you did to us,
What you did to me.
It destroyed me for;




We're going into years now.

I'm still

I'm still

I'm still

But I'm

I think we all feel useless sometimes. Like another gluttonous body over populating the planet thinking they give meaning to already fully functional things. The frustration of the mystery of life consumes us. We become obsessive in the thought that we don't matter. We think of leaving.

I'm a realist.
I don't entertain arrogant ideas that small coincidences add up to act as a "sign".
today I woke from a sleepless night at 5 am and started cleaning my room. Deep cleaning.
I found this. I sat down. Read it. Cried. Just to take a breath and hear the lyrics playing in the background on pandora "stay alive".

If you don't read anything good today read this:
stay alive.

Thank you sister.

Thank you Hamilton.
love depression me you saving save hurt pain poem poetry trending daily
Maybe 10 years from today,
Maybe only 1 year away,
Or even just 1 day,
I will be able to say...
Words that should be said
I was angry at my father for abandoning me
I was angry at my brother for not guiding me
I was angry at my mother for not protecting me
I was angry at him for not loving all the pieces of me
Every moment of every dayI was enraged
I wept and wept in the name love
but truly I was brimmed with grief
the grief I felt
from the love I did not give myself.
#fury #anger
thank you to the ones who have been there for me
at my darkest times
when I had no one else

thank you to the ones who were kind enough to let me in
and let me help you

thank you to the ones who brought a smile to my lonely days
the ones who always knew what to say

thank you to the ones who weren't fake
to the people who actually loved me
to the people who actually cared

thank you to the ones who left
I realize I never needed you to survive
and you were just a chapter of my life

and finally, thank you to me
for not giving up
for believing in yourself
thank you...
Hiba Mohammed Sobh
‪As I ‬
‪lie on ‬
‪the ‬
‪shore, ‬
‪with a ‬
‪cup of ‬
‪milky ‬
‪coffee ‬
‪and a‬
‪paper ‬
‪notebook, ‬
‪I begin ‬
‪to write, ‬
‪I am no ‬
‪different ‬
‪than the ‬
‪words ‬
‪flowing ‬
‪as rivers, ‬
‪for poetry ‬
‪is the ‬
‪ocean ‬
‪of my ‬
‪heart ‬
‪coming ‬
‪in waves, ‬
‪asking the ‬
‪reader to ‬
‪open ‬
‪themselves ‬
‪to healing, ‬
‪when truly, ‬
‪I am a drop ‬
‪within the ‬
‪universe ‬
‪of my ‬
‪everything ‬
‪and all, ‬
‪the lover ‬
‪of my words ‬
‪and the ‬
‪song of ‬
‪my soul.‬
For you, I'll make a nest
on top of the church spire
and fashion it
from plastic straw
and dangling colored wires
I'll cushion it with cold receipts
and pocket lint
and party flyers
and leave each morning
an early bird
to pluck stale crumbs
and rancid meat
from drifter's blackened feet
before even the buses
took to the street

You will feel at home

I will feel concrete
A butterfly flying on a darkness,
Flying through a sorrowful rain,
It can't fly while raindrops drops  into its wings,
She was hoping that she will find the light,
Even though she is hopeless,
Dark and rainy day was a trouble for her,
And she stop flying and cover herself ,
In a place where she is safe,
Rain continuously to cry,
Until it is gone,
And she began to fly...
Gerard James
It had been almost a year now.
Scrounging around for supplies was proving tiresome.
Everything either went rotten or protected by wild beasts.
In this world ravaged by flares, animals who had seemingly taken over the world for themselves, were fighting simply for survival.
The man locked himself in a room with all he could secure.
But at this point, his sanity was at its breaking point.
He sat nursing his wounds from his last fight with a wolf.
He wondered, against which monstrous animal he was going to have to fight for his life next.
Which demonic creature was going to try tearing him apart limb from limb for a bit of food.
Which savage brute was going insane and was willing to rip apart his bones, if it meant surviving for another day.
Then he heard a knock on the door.
Imagine what happened in your own way... or not
Yacov Mitchenko
I can leave you, baby, 'cause you grate on my nerves,
falling in the arms of another lover,
enamored of more beautiful eyes and curves;
I can move to a different city where more
opportunities have curves of their own,
and for a time, for a time I'd be glad
seeing in new mirrors the beauty, the splendor
I never knew I had.
I can seek out vistas, vistas, violin or guitar
that's more pleasing to the ear;
I can seek out the bigger, better deal,
run in a different countryside with a beautiful girl,
and yet I shall not have escaped the wheel,
my confusion following wherever I go.
Is there a beauty, a clarity, joy
that no circumstance can touch or know?
Matia James
Step into my room and close the door behind you
Slowly undress me while I undress you
Kiss me all over as I lose my breath
Take me into your mouth as I take you into mine
Moans fill the room, hickies are left, scratches are made
Tie my hands above my head
Blindfold me
Please me the release me
Let me take control
I love this tie it's my favorite
Let me use it
Round after round, explosion after explosion
Sweat drips, out of breath and damn near dehydrated
Now just laying in wet spots in each other arms
Kissing and becoming one
I know this is a little risky but I wanted to post something a little different.
Lyda M
And doubts have dashed
And murmurs gone
And frowns have turned downside up

To smiles
And heart
And laughter
And newfound friends
And applause
And gratitude

As miles of
Hard work

Have rewarded the sweetest
Not of gold but of

a musical gift
Written after we won a music competition. Some people were salty about losing. I'm just glad all my hard work didn't go to waste.
Path Humble
left my phone unlocked
on the taxis back seat,
won't be the last time

called it a few times
finally, the driver picked up

he had a fare immediately after mine,
and was now headed way downtown,
and would call later
when fate returned him nearer my office

and so it came to pass,
very shortly thereafter,

we met on the street,
he rolled down  the window
and with the greatest smile of pleasure,
as if he had won the lottery
handed me my phone

I had two $20's to cover any expense he might have incurred,
neatly folded in my hand  
and offered it right up, right away;
but the driver repeatedly pushed my hand away
as I insisted,

"No sir, no no, not necessary!

Allah sent me a fare
that took me soon back close to you, so,
  no loss of time did I suffer,
so your offer is kindly unnecessary!"

to which I replied,

Allah sent you to me
so I could reward you!"

and with an equally, beaming smile continued,

"our ride and meeting today,
together was pre-ordained it was

Inshallah!" ^

something he could not dispute...

  we parted ways
   each believing,
   each receiving
a heavenly check plus,
each, credited with a mitzvah^^
on our
respective trip logs,
our humanly divine balance sheets,
kept by the
supreme taxi dispatcher
Arabic for ^"God/Allah willing" or "if God/Allah wills," frequently spoken by a Muslim

^^a meritorious or charitable act in the Jewish tradition

NYC taxi cab drivers are suffering economically by the explosion of ride hailing app cars, many unable to pay their bills, earn a living, have committed suicide over the past few months

true story, poetry is there for the taking
Kalen Doleman
Here you are a traveling soul.
Moving through the endless space.
You lust for strength, you covet hope,
as you shift through the wall of smoke.

In whole reflection just gaze around.
Erecting illusion and hallucination.
Forging vitality.
You call upon the holy flames.
The scintillating star of a million loves.
Whatever you feel is what you will see in your reflection of this poem. The time is coming an you will know, it's not for me or anyone else to show.
Finding ourselves
is truly an uphill journey
but one we’re always destined to take
no matter your age
or where you are in life

Find gratitude
in obstacles  
in every miracle
no matter how
big or small
the place I belong
is submerged in your essence;
found and deep within
safe and sound.
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.
you pull me in
and push me away
your lips speaking
beautiful lies
in a time
that I am most vulnerable
and I stay longer
than I should
you said
you were afraid
to lose me
and then you
faced your fears
and left
adelle leila
once you hit by life
to a string of difficulties which may knock out you
hope finds you soon
dark night releases space to light day
and good for you..
Deidre Lockyer
There is something in the air today
Something fragile and undecided
It speaks to me of moody memories
Velvety scents and
Lazy summer desires
Your hands are everywhere and I’m blossoming
Addicted to you, the feel of you,
The way your eyes covet what your fingers touch
Tracing curves and angles
Claiming territory...

There is something in the sky today
Something sensual and languid
It draws me close into your inner world
Unspoken fantasies
And unmet needs
Funny how the day weaves sensuality around us,
Gathers us up in honeyed arms, musky scents
Tangles our limbs, mingles sighs and glances,
Half whispered obscenities
So sweetly urgent...

Brewing up a tempest...
So much to explore in an afternoon...
Synchronised swimming, melting in the heat
Of me and you
~explaining light to the blind~

~for Suzy~

the insanity of even attempting

who among us, the sighted,
has the capability to clarify
an animate inanimate,
an untouchable invisible,
that can be folded, bent,
travel universes unseen
at its own chosen speed,
even to another sighted

and to the blind...

imagine then light
as something that
be recognized from the inside only with
in- sight

~think of the continuum from
warmth to steel furnaced heat,
that is an element of what is light,
the sun cheek kissing, the furnace of chests
when you grasp another’s body first time

think of light as water,
the faucet spigot a measured pouring,
that can overshoot, the stream behind the house,
a toe tickling masseuse caress,
a dam’s waterfall endless crashing,
a sea, wave licking sudden raging dangerous

blend these sensations that belong to all,
and you’ll know light better than most,
indeed, light is for those who cannot vision
except from the inside with a sight that can be
touched, felt, imagined, and which the sightless
command better than us ordinary thoughtless

indeed light is as simple to understand as
which you have never seen, but creates the words
that we all
even share
Twalib Mushi
You are a beautiful song
Beauty enough to turn me on
Forever you make me strong
With your flawless melodic tone.

You are my favorite song
I keep in my heart and singing
To this hard life as stone
We better live before we're gone.

You are my cradlesong
Soothing me as I lie down.

You are that metallic song
With fine drawing body of verses
I dare to keep you long
With those tenacious, beguiling chorus.

You are my song
I constantly reiterating
Only glancing at you
I don't need playlist on you.
I used to write
My secrets in the sand,
Knowing they would never stay
Long enough to be told.

I used to just swim,
pulled my hair up and never
Really tasted the salt that foamed
After the crash.

I've ran in the sand,
Sure, but never have I
Ever let it smooth my
Skin into what it could be.

Before today, I've never
Let the current take me
Under and feel what it's like
To always come back to something.
Inner Demons
Despite the screaming in my head,
The tears in my eyes
"I'm fine..."
Is what I said
"I'll be there in a few minutes..."
Then I put down the phone
And ran into the street
My suicide
"An accident" they'll say
The perfect plan.

The average person lies four times a day,
The most common lie is
"I'm fine"

I nvisible
M arred
F alling
I nsecure
N ever good enough
E mpty
Racing in my mind on endless plane
As the thoughts of you turn into a bittersweet dismay
The time we spent together and the feelings you awoke
Violently I toss and turn as I begin to lose all hope

And I shouldn’t obsess
But I cannot help but to hear
When her soothing voice resounds
I am forever to be drawn near

Whilst I sit on a shelf alone
Only to entertain the silence
Slowly it creeps into my mind
An everlasting ultraviolet

Though happy at last it was
Were the nights together with you
Now seem to be a hollow oblivion
As my world is filled with a mournful gloom

What I had for a short season
I can only begin to admit
I can’t help but to crumble
As I begin to reminisce
When I was young
I had fun every summer
at camp
We had our own bunks
in cabins dotted among
the rolling hills and thick woods
of southeastern Ohio
My clothes smelled of cedar
from my bureau back home
and I went from being a child
to becoming a young woman
between the first year
and the last at camp
I went from a fairly chaste
blue one-piece swimming
suit to a more risky
pink bikini (I was young
and silly)
My mom sent strawberry
smelling shampoo with me
every year. My sister always had
jasmine or some exotic smell
of shampoo,
but mom knew
I love strawberries
I recently bought a hair product
from my beautician. It lists no
fragrance on its label but it
smells exactly to me
like a perfect mixture
of strawberries and cedar
It takes me back
to being 13, the games
in the woods between the cabins,
the hikes every sunset
that wore me out
and jostling with the boys
on the dock that jutted
into the deep, blue lake, electric
touches and shy smiles,
the flush of fruits on our chins
and the sun blowing up
my freckles until i was tanned,
making new friends
only to leave them again
and again
When I was young, I packed
my clothes and took trips,
leaving the scents
of strawberries and cedar
wherever I went.
Sharon Talbot
"A blue and gold mistake",
Wrote Emily from inside her room,
A self-inflicted tomb,
About a path she could not take,
Into the month of June.

Let others stroll beneath its cerulean sky
And thank the sward, on which they lie,
A lunging into voluptuous play,
Yet blinded to the rushing by
Of sultry month and jovial day.

Did the poet’s being kept apart
From worldly joys well-made,
Or from crystal pools and glaucous glades,
From brilliant sun that fashions shade,
Embitter her admiring heart
To look askance at anything that fades?

Did she not care that
One month, though doomed to end,
Was also made to reappear
After the long march of winter’s year
As the sun came round again,
To loose us from our unlocked pens?
This was inspired by Emily Dickinson's assessment of June as a mistake in her poem "These are the days when the birds come back". I imagined I was writing to her, perhaps reading it outside her window, trying to cheer her up a bit by reminding her that changing seasons are not all bad--that the month of June is not only joyous, but reappears.
mari jagt
i am so small
compared to the mountains
i am so little
compared to the sea
i am so tiny
in comparison to the islands
and i am so large
compared to what i thought i would be
She Writes
Words written
To heal the wounds
From words spoken
Broken Cardinal
No one should
Ever have to question if
They're worth loving
Or not
devante moore
I’ve never received a flower
Or even a rose
But I’m a guy
So it’s acceptable I suppose
No kisses
Or sweets
No treats
That signifies ones feelings for me
No token of ones love
But I have gotten
Watered with hate
Planted in betrayal
Fertilized with lies
And maintained by fakes
Roses are Red
But my roses are dead
And crumble beneath my feet
I am adept
In the art of being okay
I have mastered the craft
Of covering my troubles
I use all sorts of fancy facades
Acrylic, oil, watercolor
You name it.

I can paint over nearly anything

You will never know
How late I was up last night
Or why.

My eyes flicker
Like candlelight
But you couldn’t see
You couldn’t possibly see
I’m too good
For that.

I can dance, too
Waltzing away my sorrows
Carefully tip toe-ing the
I get a standing ovation every time

I’m very talented, you see.

But my all time favorite
Is my disappearing act
I’m still perfecting it
Right now
But one of these days
I’ll show you
How I

Right through your fingers.
I have acne
and they leave scars

I love my skin
despite the marks

Etched on my face
is a piece art...

My skin,
surely a canvas.

I have craters

I have valleys

I have mountains
high and low

Each my own
I have learned
to love them all on my own

Skies are beautiful
They have clouds
But they still cry

Why wouldn't you?

You are beautiful
You have poems
You can cry too
Because crying is honesty to your emotions, and honesty is beautiful ;)
Zaynub Elshamy
If we could mend a soul
with a quick and easy fix
If we could just jump into
the chaotic spinning mix

Then life wouldn't really be
worth the gold
Which we find buried within
every persons' story told

We must find time to
listen, love and learn
This in and of itself is the
only way to catch your
worldly turn
     "This isn't who you are."

    "You're not the girl I used to know."

   "I don't know who you've become."

He repeats these lines
So much these days
It annoys me more than
A broken record ever could
Ever should
Ever would
Cause I told him
I warned him thoroughly

     "I'm not nice."

    "You won't like the real me."

   "I'm not worth fighting for."

But he didn't listen
He filled my head with empty
Promises that he meant
He filled my heart with hollow
Vows that he could never fulfill

     "How can a person be so cold?"

    "How can a lady be so cruel?"

   "How can you change so fast?"

He looks hurt and
I hurt a little
But I shut down
Cause that's what I always do

     "I'm nefarious, lover."

    "Had my heart broken a few times."

   "Now it's made of stone."
I hope Nefarious Breed finds this.♥♥♥
I’m a little addicted
to your hand in mine
my body leaning against yours
and the soft smile you have
while staring into my eyes

I’m a little addicted
to being close to you
the sweet smell of your perfume
and the way you nudge me
when you want attention

I’m a little addicted
to holding you in my arms
your body so close to mine
and tracing words on your skin
i love you so much

I’m a little addicted
to you
maybe i’m more than a little addicted
she gave me her nudes
she was bare
and naked
and so out
and open
and i willingly
accepted it
because it wasnt the nudes
that showed her body
the physical aspects
that made her beautiful
it was the words
she didnt choose
and the spontaneity
that left her
either from her lips
or her fingers
or ink

she was as bare
as her nudes
and i accepted
her for her.
10:02 PM 5/1/2018
Maida Rasool
cut me open
and let all the
ink run
from these veins,
until my words
bleed dry,
and only
blank pages remain.
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