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 554° 
m h John
dear universe,
please let her
be grounded and see
how her energy
radiates through this world
and into the roots of me
that have longed
to be brought back to life
 350° 
Ayan Roy
A promenade in the midnight rain
Amidst the solitude
Of a wandering mind
Racing through a crowd of emotions
Waiting for someone to find
And for me to find,
The wrong and then the right

A promenade in the midnight rain
Amidst the solitude
Of a wandering mind
Comes the footsteps
Of a thousand minds
Running in the mud
Dancing in the sand

A promenade in the midnight rain
Amidst the solitude
Of us wandering minds
A lady sings
For all in her sight.
 318° 
EmVidar
Keeps moving differently
with phases where
you exists
and better days
when you don't

-em vidar
 291° 
too soft
Some days I am swimming,
most days I am sinking.
There is never a day where I
can simply just float.
 284° 
Ignatius Hosiana
Even the napkins that wiped the tears
can't really measure the depth of my melancholy since I cried even after
the tears were dry and even more
when I learnt to smile through it.
 261° 
Derrick Jones
Dancing with you
Nothing else I’d rather do
Swaying in the breeze
Gently grazing knees

A connection formed
Enhanced by touch
Supercharged abnormally
Now we’re dancing formally

I flow you flow
We both flow together
I don’t let go
Please make this forever

I flow you flow
We both flow together
I won’t let go
Let’s make this forever

Two suns, each caught
In the other’s gravity
Not sold or bought
Entwined naturally

They burn so brightly
The forest sparkles with love
Oh if this could happen nightly
I would forever be above

Flying higher than the mountaintop
Higher than the eye can see
The light too bright, but please don’t stop
All I see is you, surely
For more poetry and essays, follow my blog on Medium at https://medium.com/words-ideas-thoughts
Thanks for reading!
 249° 
Emilie
summer nights in july
make me feel like i’m high
although i solemnly swear
i’ve never smoked in my life
 240° 
Julian Aleks Hope
Please. Leave the light on.
I didn't mean to be gone so long.
I didn't even know what it meant to leave a light on,
Until I saw the porch light through the fog and trees.
So please.
One more time, for me,
Leave it on, to guide me back to where I need to be.
 185° 
Me
How all colours
Merge
And we can see
A rainbow
Connecting sky
And earth.
 139° 
Matt
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HAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA­HAHAHHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHHAHAH­AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA­HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH­AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA­HAHAHHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHHAHAH­AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA­HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH­AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA­HAHAHHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHHAHAH­AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA­HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH­AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA­HAHAHHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHHAHAH­AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA­HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH­AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA­HAHAHHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHHAHAH­AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA­HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH­AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA­HAHAHHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHHAHAH­AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA­HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH­AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA­HAHAHHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHHAHAH­AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA­HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH­AHAHAHAHAHAHA
YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU'RE DOING YOU PATHETIC PEICE OF ****
 115° 
Caleb Nathan
i laughed
an armchair anthropological
chuckle

yes
it was my life
that hurt

burned
In the morning
sun

like an egg
on the
summer sidewalk

all black cement
and skid mark dreams
making breakfast gravelly
once again

oh boy
he wished
for some alternate universe

and a plate
for his eggs
 106° 
Maka
And each promise you made to me
Was a paper flower,
Floating down the stream
That flowed from your mouth,
Disintegrating before it got to your hands
Never to reach me.
 80° 
Lora Lee
You have imprinted
My heart
Like a fine tattoo
And the ink
has stained it
black and blue
like an intricate
henna
in swirls and whorls
a complicated design
in flowers and laurels
every move with
the brush
is fine
It enters
my skin
like a vine
goes into the bloodstream
straight
to my heart
and mixes up
the beats
tears them apart
I need to heal
And let it dry
But instead
I find that
The needle
Is too sweet
(though it makes me cry)
Yet I want more
Of this art
This sleek decoration
I want it all
In glorious, colorful
vibration
Tattoo me, my love
And make me yours
For you have colored
My soul
For forevermore
 75° 
Sam Clemens
It struck me tonight
How impressive it is
The deftness of your tongue
Coaxing life
Out of shy, windless nights
I still remember
Sitting by your side
As your laughter floated westward
The bashful heavens made to blush
And you
Conducting an orchestra
Of sweet vivid flowers
Wet petals falling from your lips
Kissing me gently on the cheek
Painting cursive
On the sky's horizon
My words will never be so
Delicate
They are stiff; they are tired
They are made to roam abandoned alleys
And grow old in the open hands
Of a book
So speak to me
Drip your honeyed breath onto my chest
With shallow sighs
Wrap the fingers of your conversation
Around my hand
And don't let go
She is
unafraid
Uneasily
swayed

she sleeps
on silken sheets
with the wolfs
she keeps

they howl
at the moon
she hears them
and knows why
 74° 
Paras Bajaj
if you think writing about you
makes you the one in power
then you are so wrong cause'
you are just another piece
of my unsung song.

if you think leaving you
makes me constantly sad,
then you are so wrong cause'
you are just another story
that I left unsaid.
P.B
 70° 
Eno
We will both pay
For the cost
Of my
love

Holding just
Half of you
Hurts me
So

Your silence
Tells me all
I need to
Know

Does goodbye
Make a sound?

           Or do we just leave
                      It all
                     Now?
 69° 
Anne
keep your eyes closed love.

           e     t      
       m           i
    o                 m
s                        e  
                            s     all you have to
                                                                ­
                                                                ­ l                  is to what the sound
                                                           ­      i            n
                                                  ­                s           e
                                                               ­          t

                                                              ­                               v
                                                               ­                         a        e
                             ­                                          of the  w               s
                                                               ­                                       
                         ­                                                                 ­            tells  you
                                                                ­                                        to do.
"keep your eyes closed love. sometimes all you have to listen is to what the sound of the waves tells you to do"

When I was much younger, beaches were my second favorite places. I still love watching waves as they go by, crashing against each other and the whole process repeating all over again.
 69° 
Ben Morrison
Shining stars go out one by one
The universe is leaving
You can feel it’s last breath
It’s hearts last beat
Am I dreaming or is this the reality of things?
I feel the dark presence of sorrow upon me
For as they say
I have bestowed thy upon you to nurture and caress head west to the end of the world there is where you will find what you seek
 68° 
onlylovepoetry
she wanted my soul


so I cut off a finger, noting
that this little pinky
came from the hand,
who went to the market
to buy you a love poem
all your own, because
it was from the same  hand
who wrote:

who, can cut a soul in half, no one!
so one will still ask you,
who, will love you
in whole poems, that are
past and future tensed composite composted,
from words overly overused, but still foolishly brand new
when referencing you,
so you can believe with fool-thinking
this is your sole composition

she wanted my heart,
applauded her determination,
gave her one eye to see instead better,
so the visions she essays,
to write, like
when I sit down to write
of women I’ve loved but!

they do not come from my heart,
but from inside insight from parts
blind to everything
but raucous untamable invisible desire

she asked me for all the world’s wisdom,
while standing on one legging,
simply said, here I am, telling you
to love me the way you wanted to be
loved in return

so with one eye on one leg,
you will observe, two is not more than
the sum of the parts of one love,
when counting to ten on my nine fingers
that wrote of love not enough,
no matter how man he gave up

she wanted my brainiac left hemisphere, said, sure,
the left side of me is where the baby poems
are created, and then angel-released when ready,
to be needed, now see you’re needy for pieces,
but mistaken that pieces can be reconstructed into
a whole with spit and spirit and an overarching imagination -
no! the whole comes from only a holy place extracted
from the hole-in-one that is my entirety

give me then your utter essence,
the place of you
I only know exists, must,
but cannot touch to see
where you keep it hidden
from all the women who love you,
better than you even love yourself

if you want that, then collect it,
for it exists and lives on
in every woman that asked for nothing,
but was rewarded with more
than a thousand poems,
stored in stars, for her,
to be creamed and cleansed,
when she plucked them
from the night in the galaxy where exist
love poems, only
to she-one shone-shine
 58° 
putiira
The one who left you in storms
can never give you rainbows
and sunshine.
 57° 
neo
and
this is
where i
realized,

i never
loved
you
for you
but
rather
i was
in love
with the
idea of

f
a
l
l
i
n
g


in
love
with
u
 56° 
larni
i have too many emotions
that can never be put into words
 53° 
Blckstr
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.
 52° 
Satsih Verma
The dark side of moon
simmers. There was an outbreak
of romance on planet.

*

Ah, the senile edge of
twilight! Which way the light will go
to shine dry humor?

*

Shall we change ourselves
in dim hope of rebirthing
of our ancient gods?
 49° 
Ash
You claimed you loved me
then you made my heart bleed.
You never looked into eyes,
you like it between the thighs
You wanted girls who made your knees weak
So you replaced me within a week,
and ensured I saw it.
I hope you rot in hell.
why do you go to sleep in t-shirt and no bottoms?
he asks after years of
le mariage

why for modesty and as a
sign of respectful readiness,
naturally!

gazing upon me, you’ll see my x-small size,
tight bright pink v-necked t-shirt from Old Navy

making you reflect, my dear,
that this particular woman
is one confident sailor

gazing upon me, you’ll see my naked pure
intentions undoubtedly at the ready
per my
Girl Scout training,
“Be Prepared”
whenever help is needed^

making you reflect, my dear,
that this lady scout could probably
start a fire easy with just
one handy stick
and you,
‘rubber suit’ matching
my nighttime costume,
when our “couture au lingerie,”
exhibits a happy styling similarity
^ Motto: The Girl Scout motto is "Be prepared." In the 1947 Girl Scout Handbook, the motto was explained this way: "A Girl Scout is ready to help out wherever she is needed. Willingness to serve is not enough; you must know how to do the job well, even in an emergency."
 49° 
Amanda Shelton
Upon these strings you tug
on me, you are a puppeteer
always pulling on my limbs
moving me, pushing me to
the floor.

But still I rise,
I never fall too far
from a stable place,
stumbling but still
I rise and shine like
a star crossing the night sky
leaving my dreams behind.

Upon the setting sun
I slowly rise beyond
the pitch black of the sky
burning bright for all to see.

I bow in my orbital frame
smiling for you and all
who gaze upon my
dusty surface.

© 2019 By Amanda Shelton
 41° 
Xnwxr
Every day you wake-up and decide to end up what's hurting you,
Fight back with memories of your past and try to let them go,
Grind until you overcome your nightmares. And glow.

The world is a game of cards; Play it with a no-show.
Keep your business on a low.

Walkthrough your path all alone,
You can be your own best friend or a foe.
Sometimes it may end up into a to-and-fro

Grow over your stress; don't go with the flow.
Realise that it won't happen in one shot, trust the process and take it slow...
No one's beside?? Walk with your shadow.
 40° 
Hg
wri
ting is
threading
your           life
thro             ugh
a ne           edle
and         if
you sew
secrets
you'll
get
po
ke
d
a
l
i
t
t
l
e
.
©Hg
 40° 
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.
 40° 
melissa rose
She invites me in with a therapist smile
as I step through her door
observes me with that deep blue gaze
leaving me longing for more
begs me to follow
as she moves across the floor
she lingers slightly with her touch
as she gently squeezes my hand
but it’s the warmth of her hug
that I wonder where does she begin and I end?

Truth is bitter with her scent so sweet
she doesn’t love me out loud
in this lifetime it’s just not meant to be
her love isn’t real
all images in my mind
of what I long to feel
we’re not lovers
and we’ll never be friends
but I’ll love her in breathless whispers
as the depth of my love for her has no end
7/12/19 cliche
 36° 
Lemon
sometimes misunderstood words
are better,
than what was meant
to be said.
 36° 
wolf mother
Signal failed
Signature drooping
Telltale signs
Neurotransmitters: misfiring

Preoccupation,
Glitching phalanges
Losing grasp on reality
Creativity: collapsing

Paranoia resurfaces
Obsessions, obscure
Reduced to, as follows:
Fallacies: logical

Dissociation abundance
Time? Never on it
Obstacles: insurmountable
Retention? Improbable

Mimic and nod
Emotion: mirage
Glass full of emptiness

Present
As
Functional
 34° 
ogdiddynash
twenteesventh.
you write of dismembered leaves,
enhaloed lust(***)
pains too sweet because they’re youthfully incomplete,
using incontrovertible idiocies like
dry rain droplets shining like sunlight,
edible goodbye cheerios,
edible didactics, teaching “frosted flakys”
poetic methadone methodology,
poems hats with rhyming lyrics  
that taste like that burnt eyelids colored
a blood stained mustard yellow, (yum),
beyond burger veggie based satyrs,
the happy gladness of sadness,
reversible rivers flowing heavenwards,
***** *******, you want an
infernal cataclysm...

really?

dechambered hearts, ventricular mysteries,
brains wearing wooly sport jacket helmets
and other Olsonian beauties,
like I write with succinct passion,
me, who gets eaten alive by buggers saying
“too long,” “too long,” “needed a mid-poem napt”

non-lexical non-commonsensical ecumenical hysterical
chemical verbal reactionaries
and then you wonder why

PEOPLE ******* HATE POETRY?

jes kiddin’ a leetle
if you don’t follow https://hellopoetry.com/s-olson/
you’re an idiot, one of the best on this site says O.N.
sourced from: https://hellopoetry.com/poem/3224387/a-thousand-poems-stronger-130/
 33° 
jurnalkelabu
Sebenarnya, kamu ingin berpulang, atau hanya mengulang? Aku bukan jalan pintas; pun bukan sosok yang bisa membawamu terbang ke atas, tetapi aku bisa menjadi seorang gadis yang bisa mencintaimu tanpa batas.

Kamu berulah, aku mengalah.
Kamu benar-benar meninggalkan aku, maka aku akan menghapusmu tanpa ragu.

Terima kasih;
untuk semua waktu yang berlalu,
untuk segala rindu yang palsu,
dan harapan yang kamu hempaskan.

Aku tak akan mencari pengganti, bukan karena kamu tak terganti, melainkan karena aku akan meniti langkahku seorang diri.
 33° 
Diana Kimei
Mamá said friendship is like a season , it’s like a needle with a thread it’s a forever with a good bye. Mama saids friendship is like autum when all is ripe ,and color, we pluck the color , and we loose the taste..
Friends do leave
 33° 
C Cavierre
I dream of love awakened,
Of love unconditional and unbroken
—All kinds I dreamt about—

But have I ever felt it in reality: Doused
In disappointment, I continue dreaming
—All night, all day, forever sleeping—

Of love eternal and enduring
—spared from ever waking.
sometimes, it’s not always so easy to dismiss the temptation of escaping into dreams. more than battles in reality, the one waged against unfulfilled desires can irrevocably tether someone to the safety of imagination with a force that cannot be measured or explained. it can become the perfect trap. it’s a deadly endeavor that many are vulnerable to.

to people whose wakeful hours are very painful,
it’s not up to us to judge. the pain you carry is immeasurable, and only you can really fathom it. however, you are stronger for it. give yourself all the chances you need in reality to prove it— because you deserve it. If anyone says otherwise, they don’t know better. only you do.

surprise yourself. and show reality who’s the boss.
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