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 11673° 
Patches of Thought
♋︎

loneliness is real
don't doubt it for a moment
it can make you motionless
you can't get out of your own head
everything is frozen in time
time is your enemy
an emptiness you can't fill

But, it can be filled
family
friends
strangers
prayer
meditation

Wipe your eyes
tomorrow you'll
see the world differently

♋︎
This is just for those who are seemingly lost in their loneliness.  May you find your way out of it. God Bless
 1658° 
Olive
Don’t tell me to smile.
Don’t tell me it will be alright.
Don’t tell me to move on.
Don’t tell me to cheer up.

I am hurting, and I am allowed to.

That is how I ‘move on’.

By feeling,
By being,
By accepting the pain as my own.

This is how I grow.
This is how I grieve.
Let me be.
And don’t tell me to smile.
Because I’m tired of others telling me how they want me to feel.
 600° 
By M
why wait
for the pain
for someone to hurt you

when you can hurt them first?
 546° 
Simpleton
7w
I
still
talk
to
God
about
you.
 495° 
MacKenzie Warren
though my memories of you have faded
and i no longer remember the colors in your eyes
you will live forever in the pages of my journal
in my words, you will never die
 323° 
Will
Cut my jaw with your lip, burn me with your blessed touch. Poison me with that silver tongue o’ yours, good God, preach to me your sweet loving.
Drip your name into my mouth, and I’ll swallow it all.



-
this is an edit/repost! I've fixed it up is all =) might keep the other one.
 315° 
Traveler
Is it but a mere coincidence
That you recognize my character?
The language of our soul's
We carry forevermore everywhere....
Of course your voice is always there!
Poetry has always been our special affair....

Read you here, there and everywhere
Forevermore!!!!
Traveler Tim



https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HYCV8WiTQB8
 266° 
Anna
“What is the meaning of life?

Do we just wait around here to die?”

She asked sighing

Looking into the night

“No.” he smiled

Reaching for her palm

“The meaning is as simple

As holding your hand in mine.”
 230° 
Hermes
The time has come, the robot said
To speak of many things
of words and guns and swords and drums,
of cabbages and kings.
 158° 
Scot
I look in the mirror and see
Wrinkles impressed upon me
Some from good and some for bad
I've earned each one, I'm not sad

Each wrinkle tells a story
Some glad some gory
So many ups and downs
Caused the smiles and frowns

I gaze the mirror and ask
Is this really me I take to task?
How did time fly by so fast?
My life is set in wrinkles cast

Upon my face, I wear my life
My sons and dearest wife
Some happened in the fire
Some took form because it was dire

I prefer the ones that came from smiles
A raised brow to see for miles
A ripple around my face pointed up
I wouldn’t remove a wrinkle, it's been my cup
 149° 
F A Pacelli
“daddy, i want to be an artist when i grow up”

“no dear child, you can’t be an artist
you won’t make any money and will struggle”

“but daddy, i love to paint
why can’t i make any money?”

“because artists are poor
haven’t you heard the term starving artist?”

“ok daddy, if that’s what you think is best
maybe i will do what you do”

“that’s my girl”

“i love you daddy”
 125° 
JoJo
i wanna die. i wanna die.
i wanna die. i wanna die.
i wanna die. i wanna die.
but i can't seem to pull the trigger.
 113° 
Katie
Soaked with rain
Her lashes flicking open past the droplets
Huge and ready for everything

A hurricane heart will always love the storm

The calm is what really scares her
 103° 
Amanda Francis
I'll pluck my eyes for there is nothing more beautiful in this world than you.
The delusions of an eccentric poet ring in my ears.

On the brink of sanity I wait, to see something more beautiful than you.
 101° 
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 ****** –”
I know it sounds ******,
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.
 85° 
Jayantee Khare
***

hold me not
touch me not
maybe I'm clumsy-clumsy-clumsy!

have headache
want chocolate shake
maybe I'm lazy-lazy-lazy!

feel me not
mind me not
I'm cranky-cranky-cranky!

the mood is swinging
find me clinging
I'm touchy-touchy-touchy!

may be crazy
sometimes hazy
I'm moody-moody-moody!

stay away
go your way
I'm feelo-feelo-feelo!

just be there
patient listener
I'm despo-despo-despo!

here i contradict
have conflict
I'm ******-******-******!

changing hormones
troubling estrogens
tell me not a fatso-fatso-fatso!

maybe I'll be ok again!
maybe you'll love me then!


Maybe few females relate....resonate....rate .....
A big thnx to all readers and those who appreciated, thnx hp, thnx Elliott
 83° 
ohellobeautiful
no matter how hard
these winds blow and shake me
i stay  r o o t e d  with the Earth

storms exist to awake me
one of the first few
rhymes i ever wrote
*and still my favorite*
 75° 
Angelica
I beg her to stop hurting me
As she digs the knife deeper
Telling me she loves me
Telling me she knows better

I beg her, 'Mama please'
But she's not listening anymore
In her eyes, I am only child
Still a child and nothing more
 75° 
Peter B
Her eyes
reflect my moon.
In her eyes
it's always full.
 75° 
Sarah Clark
bookseller, revving habit/fever

the Wright book, I say.
the poems about the tree,
           elbows on the counter.

i say i say i say, leaning in.

                                                         a drop of rain
                                                         hangs from a pine
                                                         needle   finds my
                                                         finger    my lips.  

unseen is not vacancy.

the question of a pile
of decayed blue feathers-

where does my power
come from?

             a magic trick-

off trail   recording time
many months and nothing,
though today my
       dead bird
       is back, disappearing.
 73° 
sheila sharpe
(A WARNING TO THE CURIOUS)

Distance yourself
from this world
before you
into its troubled atmosphere
are hurled
 72° 
Isaac Ward
I wrote for 10 minutes,
A lifetime of carefully chosen words,
But the app crashed and closed and burned,
And my finished poem disappeared.
 67° 
Zoe Taschereau
.
I'm ready to love again,
I'm ready to fall.
Both can ****
        The only difference is
                      Cigarettes shatter lungs
         She shatters everything

            I remembered the first moment
my lips pressed the filter
     as I lit it up breathed it all
                savored every smoke
       as if we covered up painful lies
        in a container of painkillers

The same way  
we used to pressed our lips
     sparked something between us
           savored every moment we had
    as if our love was a rose
               in a valley of tulips
Gold
 62° 
guy scutellaro
in blue sky
the hawks circle
the bird feeder

the ghost of
a young adolf rules...

the dog that's
been caged
growls
walks in circles
(the wires to the cage
sit in Washington) and

as the cage opens...

smiling
say i
prancing in a circle

one hand waving free
"don't tread on me"
 62° 
zoe
say
I see the lights through the window
Forming shapes in your ceiling
We lie in bed and you look at me
You don't say what you are thinking
But you smile and get closer.

I hear the traffic through my window
Keeping me awake till late at night
Too late to say what I was thinking
That time I wanted to stay
But left anyway.
 59° 
Tony Anderson
Let's fly away
To worlds unknown
Playing strange games
meeting people with funny names
discovering treasures untold

Let's fly away
To see dragons and castles
Meet Kings and Queens
Fight alongside knights
To save the land
To win the pretty maidens hand

Let's fly away
High above the clouds
Let's continue to fly
To never touch down
 58° 
patty m
Flaccid is death

like snow drifting to earth

a dearth of visions dimly illuminated,

question sanity, humanity and such

yet snow like dust

swirls and blows away

and life's imprint

soon melts

like footprints

on a snow covered day.  .

Sigh, we live, we die,

so who am I

to ponder fate

with innate lines

when the sand is

dwindling and I'm

running out of time?

Sigh!
Sublime aspiration known suddenly
In falling.  Falling is easy; getting up
Can take effort-One says I will walk
And be content but temptation defies
Reason.   Eros will have its way you=
Sisyphus falls once again for the joy -
That does not last -It is so easy to fall
So hard to get up.  It is human to err...
But still we must grow up where to fly
We must fall; and Love have its  Way
Till the end that still we are children


Sweet bird of youth bird thou never wert...
 54° 
the dirty poet
i see the flyer at starbucks

"are you caucasian?
without mental health
and drug problems?"

wow
i don’t know the answer to any of these questions
is a jew a caucasian?
is the occasional *****, ****-slamming drunken rampage
a drug problem?
as for mental health
i’m a deadbeat poet and unpopular pop musician
i’ve got a job fighting death and boredom
and i just changed my facebook password to "eat ****"
my frustrations have driven weaker souls to homicide
but are these PROBLEMS?
 54° 
Bummer
I’m not going so say it again
But you know what this is about.
I don’t know why I keep feeling this way.
I wish I could stop
this isn’t about you *******
 53° 
Rama Krsna
the nectar of love
only comes with
the poison of pain,
two
for the exorbitant price of one

standing
at the chasm
of life and death
destroyed by love
grief remains
as life’s sole friend

the memories of love
now
belong to time
and this aging body
to the five elements.

© 2019
 52° 
JR Falk
so I noticed that we both drink coffee.
just like anyone, we both like ours a certain way.
i like mine sweeter, with just the aftertaste of coffee there.
caramel, sugar, creamer.
i think about when i’ll have my next cup, and the idea of it alone makes me happy.
i don’t care what time of day i have it, i almost always have a cup.
i make time for my coffee.
it might be safe to say i think you like your coffee black.
you might add just the smallest touch to soften its bitter taste, but never too much.
sometimes i think you just pour it and carry on, as though it’s nothing important at all.
as though all it is, is just some quick fix.
like you just want to get it over with.
we drink it in two different ways.
i drink it slowly.
i note every flavor in every sip, i enjoy it.
i note the warmth it brings me.
i like it all hours of the day.
you drink it quickly.
quicker than me, at least.
you don’t care if it burns your tongue, or perhaps you’re used to the pain.
you accept it.
you never let it last, you move on to something else soon after.
i lay in your bed, watching your eyes as they skim the screen in front of you.
your mind is somewhere else.
i savor the moments you look my way, if even for a second, and smile at me.
i wonder if you even notice them.
i feel your laugh vibrate my bones, making the hair on my arms stand on end.
do i make you feel at all?
i reflect on it every time i drink my coffee.
i think about it with each and every sip, taking my time.
something tells me that you don’t do the same.
after all, it's just coffee.
but i put my all into this coffee.
i think you like your coffee black.
3:06am
08.09.18

im actually drinking coffee rn. rip
 51° 
TD
The moon dripped from her lips,
a liquid glow,
a hypnotic swell,
flowing over the vast  
valleys of life.

She kissed the contouring  
shadows with vows that
dimmed with every breaking
light.  

Her darkness
in stark contrast
to the smiles in her eyes.  

Some say the soul is in the eyes,
but aww the lips
are tangible pleasures defined.
 50° 
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
 49° 
Lora Lee
I sit
on a canopy
of cool air
straight,  aligned
my soul afloat
heart gently graced
Lotus palms,
fingers touching
as chakras form rainbows
from my base,  
all through my spine
divinity frothing free
In prismatic pulses
my heartwaves
flushed of poisons,
energy cleansed
I am open
as the universe opens
to me
my third eye
in blossom

and even here
you reside in my
tiniest of fibers
even if I wanted to
I couldn't wash you out
you look into me
parting me,  gently
reaching into my
deepest of
strata

I am fresh fruit,
pulled apart
My juice runs
like a godly river
without me even
parting my thighs
Time and time again
I am electrified
touching this earth
the ripe flow of you
folds me into
little earthquakes,  
seismic vibrations
Only felt by me,
shaken to subtle core

and even if I tried to
resist it
you melt into me
like breath
you rock me
from chaos
into still ponds

So
for now
to calm the raging
waters that flow over
and through me
I sit
I breathe
and feel
one with
the heavens
and earth
the inner magic
rushing to me

I have myself,
woman of woman
and you,
a part of
     my landscape
forever
 47° 
a silent chaos
Is pain considered a drug when you keep coming back for it? For more?
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