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Tired of


This hatred in humanity

T    O     R    N

So quickly
Without listening
To their glistening
Beautiful words
I'm sorry, beautiful people. You all are very much so.
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)
Dad heard but never listened
Looked but never saw

Time spent was time wasted
And silence was our loudest talk

Money given was always taken
Reclamation for timeless thoughts

Dad went but never waited
Answered but never called

When time was there for us to talk
Dad drank,
and silence won once more
If you don't heal what hurt you,

You'll bleed on people who didn't cut you.
Ryan O'Leary
.    Providence

At the crossroads,

dauntless free will

followed the sign

which pointed to


    ending up in


     cul de sac.
Some tethers cannot be severed. I remind myself of this amidst the distance. A ******* doctor and his husband stitch. Sometimes a father impedes the celestial bond of a boy and his mama. And that’s a *****. That’s a trauma. But the stars can heal us. Mothers. Sons. Papa’s too. I want to shatter every tradition. Let the blooded cords renew. I’m here. I never left. My honesty is not a theft. I just want your love…not a miracle. And there is nothing more biblical than that which is umbilical.
Grace E
Guttural depths enclose me.
The vast expanse, like a tomb.
I am surrounded on every side by dark waters.
The endlessness is suffocating.
The immensity, my prison.
The deep, my grave.
I can’t decide
if I’m comforted by the fact
that every thought  
I’ve ever had
has probably been had

And I don’t know
which is worse
That we are, perhaps
not special at all
Or that we incredibly,
June 21, 2019
I can only pour so much
Of myself into you
You say I'm half empty
I say I'm half full

It's hard to stay gentle
When you've been so cruel
I say I'm in love
You say I'm a fool
Thank you for the rose my love
I fly high and still look at you from above, every day.
I know you have many silent tears and so much pain in your heart.
Yes today was the day and that was the place.
I fell from that wooden bridge and drowned .
You must know I fell because of my seizure.
Your little man I was.
Always together, always taking care of me.
Being sick wasn’t easy on you as a single parent.
But what a love you gave me my love.
What a lovely mom you were.
Know that I’m not far away.
I am free as a bird in the sky
I often come and sing a song in the tree next to your window.
Tell you what I see up there.
It’s all good and I’m not sick here.
My one wish is for you to smile.
Maybe when my little brother arrives.
I will be still here, watching.
Thank you for the rose my love.

Shell ✨🐚
The comfort. When losing a child
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.
Jordan Ray

           Love                                  is                      
wr­itten                    in                    stone
       which                                slowly
             fades                          to
                   sand                   ..                                          
                    ­     ..                 ..
                             . . . . . . .
                              . . . . . .
                                . . . .
                                  . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
she soaks herself in his hurt
and it d
     ­       s                

of him
ever so slowly,
infecting her.
all she wanted was for him to be
so he could live without pain
but now, she thinks
living is pain.
Cuando todas las cosas existían sin nombre,
bajo el azul intacto de los cielos serenos,
Jehová le dio músculos poderosos al hombre,
y a la mujer los senos.

Esa, sin duda alguna, fue su obra más alta;
esa ha sido, sin duda, su más perfecta obra:
con ella, a la mujer nada le sobra;
sin ella, a la mujer todo le falta.

Senos que pugnan por erguir sus conos,
rebeldemente erectos tras la tela;
senos agudos como dos enconos,
como dos rutas blancas que nacen de una estela.

Senos que ostentan terciopelos rubios,
como la piel de los melocotones,
y que fingen minúsculos Vesubios,
creciendo horizontales sobre los corazones.

Tímidos senos de las colegialas,
que, en su gemela redondez de frutos,
sugieren temblorosos nacimientos
de alas a la salida de los Institutos.

Senos de novia casta, traviesamente austeros,
que excitan en la sombra los goces solitarios
de los adolescentes y de los marineros,
de los seminaristas y de los presidiarios.

Toscos pechos de aldeana,
que estiran los cordones del corpiño;
pechos en los que triunfa la carne firme y sana,
la incitación del hombre y la salud del niño.

Pechos macizos de las solteronas,
que, en los hondos escotes del verano,
exhiben sus prestigios de inexploradas zonas
y su angustia de surco que floreciera en vano.
Senos exangües de la obrera,
senos de ayunos largos y de higienes precarias;
senos que disfrutaron de fugaz primavera
sobre los mostradores de madera
o entre el resuello de las maquinarias.

Senos ajados de la prostituta,
que la ruda caricia despojó de su seda,
tal como se despoja de corteza una fruta,
después de haber pagado por ella una moneda.
Senos de extrañas razas y de remotos climas,
bajo lunas de nieve, bajo soles de brasa...
Senos que son dos inquietantes rimas,
senos que son dos temblorosas cimas
en la mujer que llega y en la mujer que pasa...

Senos que, en el más noble sacrificio,
en las maternidades magullaron sus flores,
y, en una primavera de artificio,
aún logran el consuelo de un esplendor ficticio
con la falsa apariencia de los ajustadores.

Senos que se alzan sólidos tras la blusa ceñida,
o bajo una inconsútil transparencia de encaje;
senos que fueron lo mejor de un viaje,
y que son, casi siempre, lo mejor de la vida.
Sí: hizo bien Jehová, cuando, a la clara
fulguración primera de los cielos serenos,
le otorgó a la mujer la gloria de los senos,
¡y los ojos al hombre, para que los mirara!
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.
remember when we were carefree
and nothing used to worry me
the neighbourhood was my kingdom
and the front yard was my palace

we used to play pretend
worlds of magic and fantasy
we made up spells and slayed dragons
but now i’m fighting my mind’s demons

ignorance was b l i s s
when did we become like this?
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
I only write,
I am in love
Falling apart.
Kayla Gallant
My mind is much like the sea
The deeper you go
The darker it gets
Rough outline, might expand at a later date ❤️
She said "I'm falling in love."

I said "I'm falling apart."
What's the difference?
It’s the kind of sadness where your rib cage
And twists and

Depression doesn’t float through my veins
It crawls through my bones, with dagger hands
And winding movements.

I cannot breathe.

And yet there was nothing taken from me.
But then again you took everything all at once the moment you looked in my eyes, covered my mouth and forced me down.

I don’t know why your smell still lingers in my every thought.

I’m not scared anymore.
Veda Laurenski
You are the sea.
You are cruel.
You are cold.
And I love you.
They said,
"The most beautiful art is
looking into someone's eyes
when they talk about the
things they love.
And I said,
"Or looking at someone you love.
Or maybe, just maybe,
by looking at the mirror
is the most beautiful art
anyone should appreciate."
Appreciation post for myself; for you and for everyone as well. You deserve more than the world has to offer.
The weirdest dream
I ever had
was you
not being in it
Ruth Nadler-Nir
Tend to me
Like a thirsty garden once forgotten
Sing to me
Like a crying infant, pure and innocent
Hug me
Like an old friend years after
Look at me
Like an abstract painting, more complex with each glance
Touch me
Like the the cold steel strings of your guitar
Love me
Like you did before
I poem I wrote early last year while thinking about with my ongoing need for co-dependence
Keith Wilson
Keith has gone
He has passed on
a week ago
I am letting everyone know
His fellow poets in Windermere
will publish a few new poems here
Too thin
Too fat
Too caring
Too much hate
Too small
Too tall
Too bright
Too dull
Too smart
Too dumb
Too stupid
Too young
Too new
Too old
Too meak
Too strong

All lies I tell myself everyday
But I know their lies
Then how do I stop a cycle of self hate?
You may not be
The moon or
A star or
The sun
Beaming vision to the world.

But to me
You are
The cute little
Casting hope in me.
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.
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!

All is vanity
The meanings of passion
The aesthetic expression
The lines we draw and stay within
Even love is beyond intent
Vanity transcends
Flowing from our pens
And so we breathe again
a serendipity
a cloak of invisibility
a long message of sorry
a place to go when he feels weary
a flower on the road people may find pretty
a page on the book he keeps reading over
a girl he wanna make a lover
a daughter my parents are proud of
an expensive cheesecake that’s so soft
a pigeon that’s just set free
but most of the time I just wanna feel me
You hid pieces of yourself,
In places you would never look.
Hidden within those inner landscapes;
Unable to remember their names.
Back when I was young my father told me:
That I’d grow up, and I would be lonely,
But not to go, chasing Cleopatra,
Or else I’d die just another bachelor.

He said;

“Oh those pretty girls, there are so many,
Just look around you and, you’ll find plenty;
When you’re hurt and broken by a lover,
Amen, don’t worry, just find another.”

I said;

“Daddy, what if none of them love me back?
What if I’m alone, when the sky turns black?
What If all I am, ain’t what I could be?
It’s hard to find wisdom, but not misery”

He said;

“Son don’t stress, there’ll always be someone
Looking just for you. You: their only one.
And don’t ever worry about heartbreak,
The road to love; it is made of mistakes.

So, count your fingers and count your blessings,
Invite Cleopatra to your wedding.
Never love ‘til you don’t have to chase it,
But when you do, don’t you ever waste it.”
Ms L
You loved her vividness.
She loved your darkness.
You admired her strength.
She embraced your weakness.
You wiped her tears of happiness.
She mourned your tears of sadness.
And when you saw her flaws,
You suddenly changed.
Dismissing the fact that she first loved your imperfections
Above all your lovable complexions.
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