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Live love hate forgive
while reapers are having tea
the earth is calling
Alya Adzkia
you are as cold
as winter
yet i am longing
for a warm spring

i knew we are different
but i was still willing
to take the aftermath

even though
i lost myself
along the road
i don't recognize myself anymore.
Luna my love, are you there?
has the world been cruel or am i insane?
have you been listening to the weeps and wails of lost souls?
for when evening Sol arrives, i may not be here anymore
will you miss me if that happens?
or will you be the same as always and to not care?

on sunday evenings, i see your reflection on the lakes of the meadows, Luna
how we used to talk restlessly about insignificant little frogs up our throat
given the idea that i may die within the forest
with vines as my noose
as you watch me dangling from the tree i used to swing on
maybe these are all wishful thinking

just know that you are everything
Luna my love
Pepper Dove
When hopes and dreams
Are soon to come
I rise to face
The morning sun
Just when you think you will soon fall asleep, the sun decides to come out.
Is where I wake up in the evening
Is where I sleep in the morning
Is where I meet faceless hearts, souls, minds and special beings
Beings from different backgrounds, peasants and queens
Sharing their worsts and their bests as well as their dreams
Escaping the world that was not what it seemed.

Draw them out--
away from their machines
out into the open, abyssian spaces;
free from shadow
or  the never-ending  self betrayal
of manufactured, image

Away from walled, fortification..
or the alliance-based,  ever diluting
accolade  of the crowd
Bring them out,  in to the open
that I might heal them

And you will be hated for it..
                               just,  as I

I will rise up early
and dress myself up nice
And I will leave the house
and check the deadlock, twice

And I will find a crowd
and blend in for a minute
and I will try to find  a little comfort,

in it

And I will get lonely,
and gasp for air
and send your name up
from my lips

like a signal flare

And I will go downtown,
stand in the shadows
of the buildings
and button up my coat--

trying to stay strong,  spirit willing

And I will come back home,
maybe call some friends
Maybe paint some pictures,
it all depends

And I will get lonely
and gasp for air
And look up  at the high windows,

and see your face up there

I stare at the half dead birds
With wings of smoking coals
Fly into igloos made of plastic
And leave a trail of blood
On the blue paper sky

I close my eyes
And drift into dreamland
To escape this astronomically nonsensical nightmare
Of a half dead reality.
For her—
the one who's left me wondering
how a name I hardly knew
can remain forever on the lips of a heart
frozen in the moment
it was uttered for the very first time.
The mind wanders to places that haunts old dreams
My heart is breaking my tears are streams
The love for my country the place I call home
Will stay forever were-ever I roam
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!
Exclamation 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
No matter who you are
You have my deepest respect!
Life is so friggin' weird, I'll tell ya.
The older you get, the weirder it gets,
and it just keeps on getting weirderer.

Grossly weird.
Wrongly and disturbingly weird.
Upsettingly weird.

But then, now and again,
pleasantly weird.
Delightfully, excitingly weird.
Weirdly endearingly weird.

Then weirder still.
Off-puttingly weirder.
Over-sweetly weirdly weirder.
Understatedly, low-key weirder to the highest degree contradictory weird.

Maybe weird isn't so weird after all.
When it's the only constant in life,
then weirdness becomes the only reliably normal thing, oddly enough.
Weird way of seeing it.
Ujjal Mandal
Ujjal Mandal, India

None is innocent as flowers,
They bloom to show the beauty
Is pleasant to eyes and the healer
Of scorching hearts.
Qualyxian Quest
Troubled and often anxious
But a true blue mystic fighter

For twent years a teacher
Now I try to be a writer

For her in her anguish
For me as well in mine

Friendship in distant words
The understanding kind

mal frost
of turning your lights off as the sun rises.
In the beginning it was magic,
With that came deceit.
Then the mask came off
And finally, you were seen.
David P Carroll
Love is so special in life
It's the meaning of life
And it means everything to me in my life
Because every day I love my beautiful life.
True Love ❤️
I feel a deep sense of belonging in this place
Starting each morning
is not confusing
The changes permeate so gently

Breakfast on her comfy sofa
With open view up on the 44th clouds
Sometimes imagine the building falling
With me staring blankly
Be optimistic!

The music she plays
Imparts tenderness in every air cell
Soothing serenity~
Bethany M P
The sand shifts beneath your feet,
Your heart relaxes to a quiet beat,
The waters seem to breathe day and night,
Close your eyes take it in do not fight,
The wind satisfies your soul,
Just relax now you've played your role,
Touch the sand now scoop it up,
Hold it in your hands and form a cup,
Now let it seep through towards the sandy ground,
Your soul was lost but now its found,
The weather you desire will come your way,
Just stand closer to the bay,
Soon life will be eternal for you and me,
Look beyond the ocean and tell me what you see.
                          -open heart poetry
Erin Riley
You asked why
it’s so hard
for me
to speak up
for myself.

I looked
into your eyes,
took a breath
that swallowed
you whole.

Inside is a girl
asking questions
and looking
for answers
her smile
would never
talk about.
Broke my wings
So I couldn’t


So I stole his soul
So he couldn’t

You are my pain killer
I've enjoyed every moment
Intoxicated by your effect
Now, I'm suffering.
“’ll still be around in the earth, the wind & the stars.”
A blip from my journal
keila skie
I know
You care about me
10 more people do
Yet I can't get rid
Of this feeling
Of doom

I know
I have you
10 more people too
Yet I can't find a person
To talk to
late at night
Why do you
let me hear
your melody
If you never
let me read
the lyrics?
Why do you
come to me
If you never
I want to swim
but you keep me
upon the surface.
Peter Balkus
I'm a poet,
I have nothing
except words.

I'm a poet,
I don't care about
the world.

Take your money,
take your cars
take your pearls.

I'm a poet,
I don't care about
the world.

Well, yeah, sometimes
I wish I was
someone else.

But I'm a poet,
poets can't escape
their Fate.
Sponsor this poem:
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
Ashly Kocher
One sip turns into multiple drinks
Time has past, I don’t know when this happened last
Drowning in the bottle
Down to the last drop
I don’t even know if I can stop
It takes away the stress but yet causes a mess
One bottle
Two bottles
T H R E E   BO    TT    LE S
ITS A  B  L  U  R
I can’t even talk
All I do is slur
Is this me or a monster inside
Like the worm in the tequila bottle
Dying inside
Drowning inside
This bottle(s) of my tears
Numbing the pain of my fears
I can’t control or so I say
My days...
Not everything needs a poem
it’s already

good enough.
Sometimes I'll write a poem here
and think it's my best ever
but then the very next day, oh dear
it's in the trash forever
A friend of mine told me
I write when I’m sad
She said it is as if I am in pain
And I said when I write it rains
When I put the pen on paper the clouds get dark
And when I stop
The birds of the sky sings
Coming out to play as the sun is out
Maria Mitea
You made love feel so beautiful,
so wonderful, and so difficult to have,
when all is left is burning hope,
when all is felt is pain and despair,.

and the days seem lightless,
and the nights are darkless,
and the dreams are dreamless,
carrying it higher and higher.

waiting for the september leaves to fall,
waiting for the rain dressing in snowflakes,
waiting for the wild flowers to grow
i’between jagged rocks perennial love.

Why God,
When spring comes love’s back in the air?
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.
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 like *******.
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.

Rumbling, release
Grief falls down atmospheres check  
Warm, Yellow Sterling
For my son, Sterling  
Yellow reminds me of you
I’m sorry you’ve had to experience
Grief that was not meant to be yours.
•                               •

•                                                 •
9         «———  >§<  ———»         3

•                                                 •

•                               •

“Struck is the hour from its ivory tower,
At sixes and sevens, the stars in their heavens,

As minute hands dance at twilight's advance,
To the cadence of time, the archangel’s chime;

Listen closely for me at a quarter to thee,
‘Twixt the tick and the tock of grandpapa’s clock,

Unquicken thine pace, for run is the race,
Hear the pendulum lock, ziccoty, diccoty, dock.

‘There was a sudden stillness like the gap between ticks on a clock, but the next tick never coming.’
- Sadie Jones, The Outcast
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.
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