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stoking and stroking

very, very often, but not every day,
she wakes me with a tonguing
on my clean shaven heart,
I ask not why, lest it break the over ten year,
she be magic spelling, a hexagonal licking put on me

ten  years she gets cat curiosity bitten,
   asks me if I want to know the wherefore,
      pretend not to hear, re-awarded with an elbow
        between the ribs five and six, grunting me a ‘sure’
          (that’s a surly unsurely, no  not really)

“you don’t take care anymore enough of the body I embrace,
so I am my own your health plan, licking your chest cavern,
one of a defensive medley of many medical techniques,
stroking the heartstrings vibrato, stoking the hearth fire,
purely selfish you see, all I ask is you purr as you do,
lay still, accept my pill of vitae min no-calorie surgery,
for ten more years, let your heart be stirred,
keep the bad stuff excised, and let the desire of returning fire
of your taste buds, be forever for me...”
Jason James
I wish I had stayed in love with my wife,
I wish I had a different life
I wish I was a father to my children
I wish that I could be forgiven.
ابھی ھے زندگی باقی ابھی اظہار باقی ھے
ترے گوشے میں آؤں گا ابھی تو معیار باقی ھے
نہ جانے تو نے دیکھا ھے تڑپتا ایک لاشہ ھے
انہی بیمار سانسوں میں تیرا اقرار باقی ھے
یہ روتا ایک دیا ھے کبھی جلتا کبھی بجھتا
اسی جلنے میں بجھنے میں وفا کا یار باقی ھے
نہ دیکھا تو نے ھے اب تک جہاں میں کون ھے روتا
یہاں رونے میں ہر سو جا دغا کا پیار باقی ھے
ابھی بجھتی ھوئی شمع کبھی تو بجھ ہی جائے گی
یہاں مظلوم ھے دیکھا دلوں کا خار باقی ھے
They call it 'lust'
I call it "intimacy"
she tosses her hands
     but shes still left with her head
she tosses that too
     but shes still left with her heart
she tosses her heart
     but it still hurts like hell
so she tosses herself
     and now there's nothing left
     to toss.
inspired by richard siken's "seaside improvisation"
Alex T
whats a rose..
it’s the red that
arose , riding thru
my blood
but it’s the blue
in my hue
that's clouding my
whats new
with u
I forget
   to ask
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.
the Mystic Poet
I’m a bird
which chases a kite
forgetting the thread
which guides it

I’m waiting for the day
my feathers would be wounded
by your thread
so that my eyes can glance
your magnificent face
When I met you, we were the epitome of health, and beauty, and lovebirds in their prime. You look sick. Seriously, I can see it in your face. Like when you weren't eating in October, and no one cared but me. No one even noticed but me. You look sick. It breaks my heart worse than anything you ever did to me because when I picture you in my head you look so healthy, but now you just look sick.
And you spend so much time looking in the mirror, but I don't even think you see it because if you did you'd be as scared as I am.
by the time
you realize
by the time
you care
by the time
it all clicks
and you want
me there
i'll be
very far
i didn't
wanna wait
by the time
you want me
it'll be
too late
Ghost of Jupiter
I spear the night
With jagged splinters
Of my broken heart
And watch the stars
Bleed from the sky

Wounds of midnight
Splayed open
For the blood moon
To drown  

Indifferent to the carnage
Hira malik
the sweetest of all glory
ahh my heart
the natives of all
the naive of all
and the Loyalist the most....
I envy how the rain can just wash away what it pleases
The Wonderess
How wise of you
To go at your
Own pace

To leave their lane
And reject their
Silly race...

-growth is a process
Van Xuan
I honestly don't know what to write

I just fill this with empty words
With no sense of direction at all

Is this the feeling of being stagnant
Or just the fact that losing someone
Means losing the the reason of writing

To make her immortal
In the world of literature
The wind whispered
I whispered back.
In that moment,
The ignorant little birdie strode by.
Tweeting  it's concerns
about my health
and it's essence,
while I basked in another world
innovated by the wind and
I - Humind.
My feel of the wind on my skin and how wonderful it might seem.
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
It's not how much you say,
it's what you say that matters.


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.

From this pain
there's much to gain

The shape of mud
where I have lain

The monsters in my mind
I've slain

their rows of teeth will form my jagged crown.

In the end the purest flower grows
from earth where self-sacrifice is sown.
finding meaning in the pain, live to see another day
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
you wanted to share the despair and addiction;
to eventually dip someone down, pull them
downward to descend with you; wanting,
needing to be understood and loved,
you need someone to pat you clean
raze you lovingly, graze kisses on top of kisses,
and casts them downward, leaving them a dust
in the wake of your recovery.
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
Every action
and inaction
has consequences.
purge toxic people
bring your soul peace, but what if
the poison is me?
As sleep overcomes me,
my unsteady hands loosen their grip on the locket
and it slides through my fingers
and falls to the ground.
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.
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)
And over time,
My pen stopped bleeding
But my heart didn't
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.
Emma Noel
I dream of things I want you to do that I know you never will.
I'll wait and wait on days and nights as my heart and mind sit still.
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
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.
Patrick Harrison
depression comes
like a roaring wave
to wash me away.
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
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.
Mrs Timetable
I must say
I faintly recall
The telling of your
Intensely sensed
I paid no mind
How very rude
As drool came out
Of my mouth
A cat nap
You left me in my slumber
I now understand
My blunder...
“Listening” really is
A skill
Chalk this up
To empirical research
I will
HP poet BLT’s word of the day “Empirical”
Innocent and black
Killed for no reason
We all live together
This is only treason

Another death for being black
Ahmaud and George may be gone
Now let them rest in paradise
And may we let his soul live on

Being black is not a crime
You shouldn’t have to die
This is truly sickening
Even if your white don’t lie
These are ones that have been filmed, imagine how many go unnoticed!
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