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 792° 
Brianna Joiner
I fell in love for the first time
and out of the love
it was not returned
yet I still wanted him for myself
So many years of knowing him
I fell in love with the bad things
and empty words of feeling wanted

BUT

I had to let him go
because I deserved to be loved in return
and not taken advantage of
yet me loving me was always my last choice

When it comes to loving him now
I no longer want to do that
I will no longer be last in my own life
Finally letting go of someone I knew couldn't be trusted to love me
 320° 
Nikoletta
I'm dreaming white dreams
I'm telling white lies
I'm crying white tears
I'm flying in white skies

Everything is white
So pale and so cold
And even though I am blind
I still can see them all

But still..

I never saw death
I never saw life
I never saw a face
I never saw the light

My blind eyes are white
And they're always shut
But I still can see the darkness
That lies inside your heart
This is my very first poem, I hope you like it!!!
 210° 
Robby
I woke up at 3 AM but I didn’t want to open my eyes
I knew you weren’t there
You’d gotten up at some point while I slept to go see him
This bed and I are lonely and broken
This room and my heart are cold and not just because you left the window open
 200° 
Hafza Awan
Waiting are my eyes
At the door step of my heart
For your footfalls

Look at my Garth's Daisies
Wilted, fade and dead
Entailing your sunshine
To blossom and sway
 182° 
Zoie Marie
I seem
To be afraid
Of the feeling
Of
Confidence
I can’t even enjoy loud music in my car anymore
 156° 
maria
Sorry for the sadness
I'm not trying to
it's just life,
you know,
everyone's playing hide and seek
Some people need answers you don't really have or are too clear, they just don't want to hear

Written on October 20, 2019
 156° 
Alex Teng
Falling in love is easy,
Staying in love is not.
I didn't even know I was swimming
Until I began to drown
 144° 
Madison
You always get apple juice
For a moment I forgot
I forgot about you
And I got apple juice
It reminded me of you


The taste made me sick
 139° 
onlylovepoetry
a love letter in the sand


she implores me at my weakest,
early morn, when sleep and sorrow
yet linger on my eyelids and dreamt stories
still have not been replaced by the careworn,
life’s erasures that ***** sparks of creativity

write me a love letter, a forever composition,
resistant to aging, time and weathering, a poetics
stamped with a maker’s mark, a signet, a hallmark
to our love that will be read unceasingly, a party to eternal
preserve our sharing, under glass, in paint, in this ink,
in this atmosphere

deny not my request, for it is holy tinged, reddish singed,
the best of us to become immortalized,
for all other lovers to follow, in garden planted,
a peony’s blooming upon request, whenever needed,  
be ready seeded, to salve and save, to be given and gotten,
in a single act jointed

no matter if our names brown edge to faded,
our love revived when it is voiced, witnessed, taken,
our love refreshed upon renewal by others eyes, lips, sensations,
make it an oath, a promising, combining our combination,
bless it for everyone, to be a blessing, a dressing of loving


poet rose from prone, our templar bed, bathed his face,
bid his woman, follow, her bidding to be won, for this now
is the moment precise that such a need be immediacy met,
a task such, cannot be denied, temporized, delayed by delicacy,
a challenge so eloquently stated, must be instantly sated

to the sandy beach I took her, for she would be the first witness
to her creation, her inspirational must become perpetual,
with forefinger in the sand drew the words she had chosen,
for in every respect, he gave grandeur, preservation worthy, now encapsulated as “I will be yours forevermore”


“how can this be eternal, in minutes, the tides arrival,
it’s erasure a certainty” she laments...

not true, I soothed, the tide will take each grain of our anthem,
with our bodies ash, to every seventh corner, where lovers gather,
to be rewritten, melded together, soft spoken unison,
spreading our tale, forevermore...

it will take 100 years for a single grain to cross the ocean,
and then, when all are as one, as we begun, this day,
our love letter in the sand perpetual
10/16/19
 110° 
Shannon
my favourite colour is yellow.
it’s been that way for so long.
but not that harsh yellow that blinds and bruises,
that burns your eyes and bites your tongue.

it’s a soft yellow.
the kind that whistles through the breeze
and past the trees.
warmth on the skin.

it’s the kind that melts in your laugh
and bubbles in your throat.
that exists in your smile and reminds me
of the honey it resides in.

it’s pale and subtle.
careful and delicate.
like the warmth in my heart
that sparks when I see you

yellow has always been my favourite colour.
so, what a coincidence this is.
that I found the colour I love
existing in you.
for m
 109° 
Stan
The fire
And the warmth
The people
That make me
Happy

What you can
Call home
Are the ones
You call
Family
 106° 
Eric Martin
My soul has already bin shead
A statuette of the forgotten; forsaken
But wires fill my veins
A spirit in my head
A marionette of the dead
rotten, for the taken
Don't mind it's pains
It is made for breaking
I know it's hard to be read but it makes sense in my head.

Ideas: 145 bpm. 6bar of 4, maybe 4'4 ryhtem underneath. another verse or chorus. Maybe pre chorus or verse, Ideas: It doesn't matter if any one sees, It's not for you, it's not for me (or) it doesn't matter if it's askew, It does't matter if any one sees, it's not for you, it's not for me.-4bars
 102° 
BeHappy
I sit in warmth,
And watch,
Through the foggy window
At the white, powdery night,
An occasional orange light
Streaks by, not far above,
And I sit, listening,
To the soft humming of an engine.
 95° 
Nat Lipstadt
Oh Eliot, Poor Eliot, Your Fans Hung You in the Closet and I'm Feelin' So Sad^

<>
we tithed thee with donations plenty,
here a dollar, there a fiver, a coupon for free chips,
worthy of somebody’s eternal gratitude,
that would be you,
da Duke, Duke of York

the largest online free poetry site,
a million visitors a day, why you must be
the richest poet online billionaire, right?
you,
da Duke, Duke of York and

occasional poet...

in return, all we occasional poets demand
steady on instant access, immediate satisfaction,
after all, a part time job deserves your bestus-best,
just like every other large online site, that never crashes,
we’re not like the just the rest, we are
p o e t s,
occasionally

so keep the servers engines, well stoked with Newcastle coal,
keep them up and running round the clock,
using only alternative energy,
like the unceasing sun in merry old England!

quit that other job, you must,
instead of giving up on us,
for us,
a poetry break, a writing recharge, please add a limited liability
clause to the FAQ’s,
that our lives must deal with the hiccup
occasional

you, da Duke, Duke of York,
newly now, an appointment royale as Major General,^^
you, the very model of a modern major general
possessing information vegetable, animal, mineral and
technical,
who knows the Queens  of England,
maybe now is telling tales of your heroics with the hordes of
poetical
hysterical
occasional

and
when you have a moment spare,
a haircut, please.

no, that is not a request, naturally

<>

10/19/19
Noontime NYC
natalino
^^Messers Gilbert and Sullivan

^ Oh Dad, Poor Dad,
Hung You In The Closet and I’m Feeling So Sad
By Arthur Kopit
Jonathan
Well, I made it out of lenses and tubing. The lenses I had because Ma-Ma-Mother gave me a set of lenses so I could see my stamps better. I have a fabulous collection of stamps, as well as a fantastic collection of coins and a simply unbelievable collection of books. Well sir, Ma-Ma-Mother gave me these lenses so I could see my stamps better. She suspected that some were fake so she gave me the lenses so I might be...able to see. You see? Well sir, I happen to have nearly a billion sta-stamps. So far I’ve looked closely at 1,352,769. I’ve discovered three actual fakes! Number 1,352,767 was a fake. Number1,352,768 was a fake, and number 1,352,769 was a fake. They were stuck together. Ma-Mother made me feed them im-mediately to her fly –traps. Well... (He whispers.) one day, when Mother wasn’t looking...that is, when she was out, I heard an air-plane flying...somewhere, far away. And I ran outside to the porch so that JI might see what it looked like. The airplane. With hundreds of people inside it. Hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of people. And I thought to myself, if I could just see...if I could just see what they looked like, the people, sitting at their windows looking out...and flying. If I Could see...just once...if I could see just once what they looked like...then I might...know what I-what I... (Slight pause.) So I...built a telescope in case the plane ever...came back again. The tubing from and old blowgun (He reaches behind the bureau and produces a huge blowgun, easily a foot larger than he Mother brought back from her last hunting trip to Zanzibar. The lenses were the lenses she had given me for my stamp. So I built it. My telescope. A telescope so I might be able to see. And... (He walks out to the porch.) and...and I could see! I could! I COULD! I really could. For miles and miles I could see. For miles and miles and miles! Only...
You take the time to build a telescope that can sa-see for miles, then there’s nothing out there to see. MA-Mother says it’s a lesson in Life. [Pause] But I’m not sorry I built my telescope. And you know why? Because, I saw you. Even if I didn’t see anything else, I did see you. And...and I’m...very glad.
Typed by: Jeremy Mash 2-16-06
 83° 
Steve
Because the earth’s round
Doesn’t mean it’s  having a ball.

Because waves crash
Doesn’t mean that they aren’t in control.

Because the sea is deep
Doesn’t mean that it’s thoughtful

Because land meets the sea
Doesn’t mean that they agree

Because you float my boat
Doesn’t make me the captain.
Five little ten worders to ponder.
 82° 
Xaela San
She saw her face

In the mirror

Reflecting her flaws

She looked away

If only she's beautiful

She thought.
Every time
 72° 
M
your polo shirt in my drawer,
your toothbrush by the sink,
your polaroids on my bedroom wall,
your aftershave—

darling,
they all stayed—

you didn't.
 72° 
Krad Le Strange
Minsan pakiramdam ko nga
na tila ba nilubayan na ako ng mga salita...
Parang nilisan na ako ng mga tala at tula
Wala na ang dating saya sa bawat katha
Hindi na muling makagawa ang dating makata
 67° 
Laura Duran
The sky is touched with dawn
As morning conquers night

Day is fast approaching
I sit still....waiting for the light
And think of you
 67° 
larni
just because i make other people happy
doesn’t necessarily mean that i am happy myself.
but what it does mean is that i am willing to
sacrifice my personal emotions for the best
interests of the people surrounding me.
 64° 
Dennis Willis
All of us
making our waves
carefully or not
need to be felt
welcomed
or stopped clearly
with ought
 64° 
Akshay
These words are for me,
For I'm the one who's hurting,
I'm just healing myself.
I often wonder why we can't understand other's poems sometimes, but deep down it is the one who writes it knows the value of it.
 63° 
A M Ryder
Just as perfect
As the music is painful
They took their time
Piece by piece
Placing every star
Casting out the constellations bright
And you alike
To the furthest reaches
But never too far
These perfect points set
So you never forget who you are
 62° 
Anastasia
Gold doesn't mean anything
Compared to you
Get rid of shiny things
And start anew
Gold can't compare
to your sapphire eyes
Over and over
too many tries
To get your love
Even gold isn't enough
to replace your touch
Golden roses
can't replace
your petal soft lips
So close
Almost touching my fingertips
Gold doesn't mean anything
compared to your silky skin
Please don't run away
Just let me in
All the gold in the world
Could never buy my love for you
 61° 
EMD
‘I don’t run with the world’
She said, ‘I run beside it’
He reached out to heal her
But found instead that
He moved through her
 58° 
MalambzTheWriter
I always thought
Till death
we will never part

I guess
The day we broke up
Is the day
I died on the inside
 56° 
Quinn Adaire
Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye
The words flit past my lips
Like a butterfly

Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye
I bid you adieu
I’ll see you next time

Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye
My leaving grows nigh
Goodbye!
 56° 
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!
Explanation 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
I love you all!!
 54° 
yasmin
Because sometimes,
paper is the only one
who listens.
 50° 
eli
today,
I wore it again
and people complimented me
they say red is my color
and it suits me.

today,
it's too thick and dark
did I overapply
no, it's the right amount
just enough
to make them think
I'm fine.

today,
I look at myself
in the mirror,
and they're right
red shines on me,
so I applied
another layer,
and another
until my lips felt too thick,
but my eyes still see
the scars beneath it.
 49° 
Somon
If forever
Meant
a minute
Spent
with you,
I'd spend
every second,
Wishing
for two.
Sept.12.19 //letters that won’t be sent to you

You took my breath away
Every time you got close to me
So close
I could hear your sweet words
Close to my ears

The last thing you took from me
Was trust
For now I shall search for trust
And keep it to myself
 47° 
Didda
I learned to trust
From the boys with the heart-eyed smiles
Who told me I was funny
And then waged war
ive only ever learned what not to do
 44° 
Kafka Joint
It stands to reason,
That there must be
Last tomatoes of the season.
But I love them so much,
I can't bear seeing them go like this.
 43° 
last rainy night
your eyes still look familiar
but the looks they give me now are foreign
 43° 
Alex Teng
We fell in love by chance,
We stay in love by choice.
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