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 1467° 
emnabee
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.
 990° 
amanda
I think of him less now
and it frightens me
the best artists are heart broken
and I feel myself mending
 678° 
Woody
A caw-
ing of birds
with blunt
-ed beaks
and clip-
ped wings
that can’t fly
or sing
worth a lick
-ety split
always
pick-
ing and peck
-ing a-way
at the best
chirp-
ing inside
a chest
-full of
beat-
ing Blue
-birds'
heart-
felt art
-tistic
songs in-
stead
of sing
-ing along
think-
ing they
know better
than
-   the rest?
This in response to the deletion of a great and true HP Poet’s account tonight as a result of constant harassment by at last count 13 dumbass, iealous, couldn’t write a decent poem if the male har-ass-ers tripped over their stupid pricks and the idiotic wagging female tongues who all took part in this. You know who you are. This harassment was reported to HP and to Eliot directly without the courtesy of a reaponse, and without action to curb it. The creation of monitors was a total waste of time. Many of you know her as Vicki. I’m sick of this kind of shit done by supposed adults, and sickened most of all by HP’s allowing this to continue even after multiple messages. As far as I’m concerned, the Guidelines and the so-called monitors aren’t worth a fucking dime. Which is exactly 10 cents more than I’ll ever again contribute to HP.  Go ahead and lock me ip, put me in the corner for awhile, or expel me. I don’t care. Maybe  we will see if the monitors are paying attention at all, or just another silly myth. If you’re a monitor and reading this, I would like to hear your thoughts after you wake the fuck up.
Most Sincerely,
Me
 344° 
Tate
I'm lost in life, does anyone know?
Where in the world, that I should go?

This jobs' great, but I'm broke as hell.
This job sucks, but it pays real well.

This place is nice, it's all I've known
Perfect when I was little, but now I'm grown
But better things are calling do I pick up the phone?
Why stay in hiding, while I could be renowned?

I'm tired of being broke, I want to be more.
But I need a runway, to be able to soar.
I'm tired of these fields, I want to see more.
The world is out there, waiting to be explored!

I'm going to leave this place!
I'm going to leave this place.
I'm going to leave this place?
I'm going to leave this place...
 343° 
Melissa S
Dream of me
I am real...
I am where smiles are made
and tears fade away
Where hope springs forth
Away from the darkness
of the earth

I am the glow of the moon
and all the stars in the sky
those who seek the light
shall have me as their guide

I am the red bird or butterfly you see
Just keep your eyes open... to find me
I am where tomorrow is coming
and hope always holds on
My darling
I am never truly gone....❤
I have been dreaming of my mother lately and do not want to wake up because it feels so real and I miss her so. I wrote this from her perspective writing to me
 319° 
andromeda green
i know we haven’t talked
i know it’s been a while
i know that it’s kinda my fault
but i still miss you
i miss your fast talking and crazy stories
i miss your dyed hair and red arms
i really, really miss you
i miss our hangouts before class
i miss our planned birthday parties
i miss our ranting about how mean our friends were
i really, really, really miss you
i miss your old car with the cupcake sticker
i miss your loft bed and starbursts from math class
but most of all
i miss us
a letter to an old friend.

13 hours and 1 minute apart.
Nothing can compare
to the joy I felt
stepping off that train
and seeing my mother's face again.
I was gone only a week,
but it might as well have been forever.
I traveled six hours on the railroad
back to good old Georgia.
What more could I ask for
than to be home sweet home  
where I
belong.
Georgia On My Mind - Ray Charles
 276° 
Sjr1000
Can you tell me
please
which way now is home
I used to know, my dear
The way was clear
There was no fear

Tying my walking shoes
I knew I needed to get clear of here
thought I'd find
all that was dear

The road though, it is narrow
The cliff it is shear
My balance is
woozy

Can you tell me my dear

which way is home
which way do I go from here,
I think I oughta know
But the hills they are wavering
The ocean is in turmoil
The mountains are slick
far too dangerous

The desert has no mercy

I know something and with this knowledge
I think I must be cursed
I think I have it
Peace & Home
goes and comes
and comes and goes.
 250° 
Raj Bhandari
MY PEOPLE ARE ALL AWESOME,
MY LOVING INDIA IS REALLY GREAT,
TODAY, THE 15 AUGUST  IS  OUR AUSPICIOUS INDEPENDENCE DAY,
LET US ALL NOW CELEBRATE !!
 162° 
Chameleon
Tell the people you love that you love them.
Take the time to see them.
Who cares if you're busy, or tired or if there was some dumb drama in the past, it doesn't matter in the end.
I am going to take the time to see everyone I haven't in way too long.
 161° 
campbell
there will be nights where you chase stars
and follow them through galaxies and supernovas
waiting for them to slow down

and on those nights you need to land
let your feet rest in the craters of the moon
and learn that you
are the sun
 133° 
Madison Smith
I think about you,
before I fall asleep,
When I wake up,
You're always on my mind.
Am I on yours?
Do you think about me the way I think of you?
Do you look at me from across the room when I'm not looking?
I think I'm in love,
But afraid you aren't
 132° 
Liz Carlson
they all tell me
i'm soft,
calm,
a peaceful presence,
someone to turn to for comfort,
a shoulder to lean on,
a warm hug,
selfless,
inviting,
deep,
happy,
and so much more that i only get a glimpse of
once in a million moments.
 130° 
Orange Rose
I wrote a poem when I died...
Another at my birth.
A brand-new sonnet when I cried.
And again when there was mirth.

A song for my confession...
A story for my pain...
A painting for depression...
And nursery rhymes for rain.

My creations live inside my heart.
I keep them there in shame.
Yet you looked around and saw my art,
And smiled all the same.
I see you.
With your heart of stone
I see you
With your gilded mask
I see you
With your diamond tears
I see you
With your blazing tongue
I see you
With your glass smiles
I see you
With your empty eyes
I see you
With your fragile hands
I see you
With your broken lies
I see you
With your stooped shoulders
I see you.
Everything you are,
Everything you are not.
I see you
And I care.
I see you, because you are like me.
 110° 
Maxim Keyfman
I would like to go with you
on a ship in waves in the sea
I would like to be with you only
and poems to write and poetry to read
and poems to sing

I would like to be with you
forever and for all to be forgotten
so that no one will ever remember us
as when that morning we met
as when we were greeted by the moon

14.08.18
 95° 
JE
Nothing makes me that happy
Other than a nice cup of coffee,
But when you reached out and talked to me
Even the best cup of coffee can't compare to your beauty

You were the perfect coffee I was looking
The one worth waiting
My best cup of coffee
Was when you were there with me
Nothing makes a cup of coffee more delicious if you're talking with someone you love
 86° 
EBTI
Depression shall not get the best of you
Between all of the colors, you chose blue
Tell me what makes you happy if I couldn’t do
All of the books and paper, i wish I could listen to you
You are cutting your wings and I am gluing  them on
With me or with out me, you are going to be strong
If my poems and I didn’t stand tall
We’ll fall with you but, surely later we will catch on
We will crush all of your sad feelings,
We will crush them all
Only sunshine baby, even if your sky was blue
And I am here for you!
 83° 
Brad post
Last night I saw a shooting star,
and it made me think of you.
Brilliant white, and trailing light,
against a sky of purple blue.

I wonder if you saw it,
and if it made you think of me.
I wonder if you smiled,
as it burned, and ceased to be.

I wonder if you made a wish,
and what that wish could be.
I know it's wishful thinking,
but did it involve me?

Sorry, I know, I'm just wondering,
you probably missed it anyways.
I'll  still hold on to my wish though,
of long forgotten days...
 75° 
Jeff Stier
One day bleeds
into the next

Leaves wounds
that won’t heal
measures our moments
into.finite statements
that knit the hours
into a tapestry of tedium

Where is the joy
I was promised?
Where
the lively waltz?

I grieve before every hour
and bend before fate’s great weight
tremble incessantly
and starve in the midst of plenty

Yet I hold my head up
march on
determined to reach that far.shore
where fate will take us
and luck will leave us.
 71° 
cecilia
you said
you were afraid
to lose me
and then you
faced your fears
and left
 66° 
cynthia
his hands devoured me like a swarm of locusts
hungry
I felt them crawling in my mouth
fingers prodding me for euphoric reactions
get them off
get them out
I can still feel them trailing the lengths of my skin
getting caught in my curls
trapped in bed sheets; humming
his hands are slowly smothering me
I fight for breath outside of his

I am trying to keep my eyes closed.

"Look at me! Why won't you just look at me!?"

they are insatiable.
 66° 
ashton
I didn't choose it
I didn't wake up one day and tell myself
let's be anxious
let's be depressed
let's want to die
let's start self harming
I didn't choose to be like this

slowly my problems
my monsters
became visible
they started small
skipping lunch
making a cut or two on my hand
shaking for a while in school
but I fell

I didn't choose to be this person.
We just get handed who we are.
I didn't choose this.
I never wanted to be that

I didn't want to be riddled with anxiety and insecurities,
to wallow in self-pity and sleep for hours everyday
to stay up all night with anxiety
to steal razors
to eat one-hundred calories and then barf it back up
but that's what happened.

I didn't choose this
I didn't choose
I didn't choose to tear apart my life.
it just
happened
I'm really good right now but in a reflective state currently oof
 60° 
Jamie
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
 56° 
Poetry
Lick my lips
Cradle my face
Gaze into my eyes
And tell me I'm safe
 54° 
Nyx
I'm scared to see
What lies beyond these doors
The gate to my future
Whats in store?

I'm scared to let go
Of my high school freedom
Graduation is near
Times passing like the seasons

I'm scared to know
What reality has to offer
I'm not at all prepared
I'm like a lamb to the slaughter

I'm scared to find out
Which of my friends will stay
Who are the real ones
And which ones will fade

I'm scared to hold
All the power of my life
Making such a crucial choice
Cutting through me like a knife

I dont want to be scared
Of what I have now
I want to enjoy life
I'm not exactly sure how

I'll think about my future
And all that is to come
When reality comes knocking
By then I'll be done

Change will happen
Slowly throughout time
I'll take it as it comes
Dont stress in the meantime

I won't be scared.
 52° 
shaun
here’s my heart
it’s yours to keep
while you dream of Norway
I dream of sleep

here’s my heart
it’s been yours all along
I didn’t realise I was lost
until I was found
my heart is divided into an abundance of pieces, shared to those I hold dear. love? or loss? i’m not quite sure myself. the former is alien to me but it’s something i long for. a human feeling. a purpose, maybe. a notion in mind but no strength to seize it.
 50° 
Blissful Nobody
I lay under the sheets,
Undressed and yearning,
Famished and waiting,
For a taste of ambrosia.

Knock knock knock!
Come now and come in,
Embrace your desire,
And ravish my senses.

Don’t tease me,
I am at my peak,
Mortally enraptured,
By my physical form.

Come lay beside me,
Put your hands on me,
Take me whole,
I surrender in flesh.

Caress my breasts,
Moisten my urges down,
Hold me tight,
And feel me now.

Hold me down now,
Watch me sizzle,
With fierce intensity,
Burn my passion out.

I need your body,
When mine takes over,
Come in and take it all,
Out ; when I simmer down.

Come again when I desire,
Hear my carnal call,
I want you in me,
A taste of ecstasy.

I lay here now,
Bare on the bed,
Ceased by desire,
Free me now.

Restless feet bother,
Kiss them and in between,
Soften the bridges,
So you may pass.

Forward and backward,
All leads to ecstasy,
Touch me whole,
Touch me now .
Experimenting with erotica;)
 49° 
Busbar Dancer
People only ever want to ask me about
the poetry -
those verses about
busted up noses in outer space;
about the pros working
way down passed
the corner of Broad and Main;
about fistfights and hard, hard drinking.
But I built a flowerbed this weekend...
Twenty two tastefully irregular stone blocks
in a crescent moon shape,
filled with the blackest of soils.
The sweat of toil.
The digging.
The planting.
Exotic grasses. Asian maybe?
Purple and yellow flowers.
Zinnias or some damn thing.
All covered in a thick blanket of brown mulch.
It's a fine thing to have dirt on your hands
instead of blood.
No one ever asks me about flowerbeds.
 48° 
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
 45° 
soliana
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
 44° 
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.
 43° 
Steve
Born on the horns
Of unicorns
Bees n’ trees n’ phantasies. 
 
Bleepin’ buzzin’ 
Squadrons by the dozen
Wings n’ stings
Black n’ yellow plump things.
 
Listen sissin’ 
Bumble bees go missin’ 
Stings n’ zings
A fluffy insect clings.
 
Mourned by the horns
Of unicorns
Could bees n’ trees be phantasies?
 
Pecked her necked her
Busy bees inject her
Zings n’ blings
And rainbow rings.
 
Hummin’ comin’
Soldiers started drummin’
Swarms n’ storms
In uniforms.
 
Wishes kisses
Serpents sendin’ hisses
Storms n’ thorns
Stripy little life forms.
 
Flowers n’ honey
Bumble bees not funny
Thorns acorns
Trees worth more than money.
 
Born on the horns
Of unicorns
Bees n’ trees not fantasies.
Certain species of bee have been added to the endangered species list worldwide, not our humble bumble bee but their numbers are in a very worrying decline nevertheless.
This little poem is a general plea for all of the environment and it was inspired by the little bee pin designed and available from https://cheryljonesdesigns.com/

It's worth remembering about bees, if they do go they'll bee taking us with them!
 42° 
Poetoftheway
how do you know when (a human is too broken?)



<•>

human too broken?

like the light bulb, removal from its fixture, a simple shaking revelation of the tinkling filament spent, something that cannot be repaired, the only option is replacement and that makes
you cry

the empty box of oatmeal raisin cookies, you find secret’d,
hid by you, not to be found by you
at the bottom of the kitchen garbage,
but box betrayal, by the chartreuse tipped box lid sided
peeking upwards, asking, silencing screaming,
what did I do to deserve
this degrading

like the blouse now too tight that it brings stares as the buttons strain, unwelcome attention unintended,
you know it but still pretend not to see,
for you both once loved that silky guise that so
heightened the high tender, the match of your pink rose skin letting, no! making
your eyes glisten, like broken filament glass, on the sidewalk,
recalling the pleasured admiration,
rain remembered from the
prior priority of a life consisting of only
perfect gifts

so mean revert to the poseur question; this is how...

remove the human from a fixed place, whimpering-threatened,
you may hear clear the crackle cackling  of the innard shards against the misperception of a body intact,
even if you do,
no repair service you want,  can be found, see it nowhere,
is it even
anywhere advertised?

the body presumed intact is secret’d under a tactile coverlet,
holey scupperrd holy cuttered
so that the cells and bicuspids, the threads
no longer function in a tandem,
you keep it in the closet closed,
in the back, deep hid, where,
when it screams why,
it can be safe ignored,
because  ‘betrayed’ is no longer a word,
in your globe's dictionary,
the parental controls activated by you to
save the child’s unconstrained confusion,
it has been removed


so the broken glass, the clothes you dressed each other,
if not weep-well,
well enough hid,
the fit is off,
the fit is off,
the coverlet ripped so bad and neither cares
an unexpected poem, unplanned, needing work
aug 4-5
 40° 
James Lim
its hard to explain what i am feeling now
except to say
that there still feels hope
albeit a faint one
that needs to be rekindled
every once in a while

how long more can i do the rekindling?
that i do not know
except to say
i hope
i can
for as long as its needed.
My very first real poem.
 39° 
Akemi
out of arms
out of lungs
out of head
it’s an effort to be dragged
catch beneath the lock
where i tore my lid three years ago
each descent returning
spit from the cavernous body of marx

an empire of glass
the wretched of centre city
mop the open wound of 24/7 affairs
cum and grease stained upholstery
apologising for everyone else's mess

it’s blasé-faire
it’s pro-choice
corporate megaphone through the airwaves
distilled into the perfect idiot subject
enjoy life
enjoy life
enjoy life
enjoy life
enjoy life :)
the happiness industry would have you believe that all the ills of the world will be solved through positive thinking :))
 39° 
She Writes
There is too much regret
In unspoken words
The quiet thoughts
Whispered only to the moon

There is too much longing
In wishful thinking
Daydreams
Can quickly become a nightmare

There are too many tears
Spilled onto pillows
Over suffering and longing
From words unsaid
 39° 
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
beaming,
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,
saying:

"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,

"exactly!
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
single
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

FYI,
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
https://www.nbcnews.com/news/us-news/sixth-new-york-city-cab-driver-dies-suicide-after-struggling-n883886

true story, poetry is there for the taking
 38° 
Dess Ander
I fell hard, head first, in love
Damaged my brain and couldn’t recover my mind
Whole but in pieces and believing you could save me
But your every truth was a lie
Whispering romantic shit convincingly like the serpent
And just like her I took a bite and didn’t want to let go
I let myself be poisoned.
 37° 
Mr Quiet
I could give you the entire universe but then i would just be giving you yourself.
but it's true tho
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