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Dave Robertson
Before the storm, the river had all but given up,
the guttural roar of wind and deluge
rattled all souls, except her
and in the aftermath she swelled
and bore delicious weight again
and my eye-contact
with the pageantry of the green headed drake
told all the muddy truths:
to underestimate is to lose
i’m numb,
no i’m not sad, not happy
maybe i’m fine

but i’m numb

when you give them your all
and you often don’t get it back
it leaves you empty


it leaves you numb
old write but sharing it and writing is how i’m choosing to cope
On the seventh day
I hear
Thunderous silence
Of everything wrong

God decided to rest
And so he created
A barren, quiet day
Made for me to ponder

With silent birds
And noisy trees
I wish he didn't rest
Because now I can't

Sunday breakfast
I wish coffee was enough.
I despise sundays
The tragedy is
there's a prison in my mind
all the thoughts that lurk there
are ones I wish were never mine
they etch into my heart
the scars I wear so bright

They whisper wicked stories
of things that never happened
or maybe things that did
things that shouldn't create ripples
in the current in my life
but here I lay in bed
stuck awake at night
eyes cutting blankly
through the nothingness of my cold and dark bedroom
Lalaouna Amina
One of the audience
she is
Observing, listening & noticing
what she needs
she is
she needs to read more
to act
Yousra Amatullah
Like an autumn tree
Let us absorb reality
Starting at the roots
Until our branches rain mastery

Reflect upon us like the sun does
Enlighten my trunk, my fiber
Sweeten the fruits of my leaves
Only to match the touch of saffron soil

To grow green, silk & brocade, I pray
Ending fall season, turned into gold, I supplicate
Naggingly I ask You, ٱلْمُعِزُّ
Gather this four-season-Ummah with just one breeze
Mariah Button
I feel my knees buckle sometimes.
And my arms go limp.
It's an earth-shattering sadness.
I feel it in my bones,
In my blood,
Like it's part of me.
The kind of sad that makes my body fumble from the weight
my roots are growing in ashy
i can't stop looking at my acne scars

i taste everything good in me
and lick the sin off my fingers

but no one told me that loving myself
would be this exhausting
Kyle Janisch
Take the worst parts of yourself
And place them in a place
Where every so often you see them as you pass by
And allow them to remind you
That you are a better person now
Because of them
Salmabanu Hatim
Just as a rose is a rose,
You are You,
Do not try to be someone else.
There's blue
There's green
There's purple in you
And red down his knees

There's that fun yellow in your arms
And a touch of black under her eyes
I search for the white of your hands
But they've disappear under the light

I miss the orange
It keept it a little lighter
Now we're left with gray
And empty ink bottles piled higher and higher
Frances Raeburn
You know
I don’t know
and revel in the not knowing
because the pain of knowing
would mean growing
into someone
I believe is
not worth the knowing
Hanging off his every word
Like the child within, as free as a bird
But to everyone else, she is prey
In a world, that she too only wants to exist
Free from his thirst
That he calls 'love'
I want to be the smile on your face.
I want to be the song in your heart.
I want to part the clouds for your sunshine.
I can’t be your WHOLE, so I’ll be your PART.
I am by your side forever,
To help heal you and always keep you well.
If anyone sings our song for others,
Let that be the story they tell.
My apologies to many for this poem.  I read so often the poem filled with angst, which it seems most poets embrace.  Here is one filled with fluff.
I don't feel special,
I'm not unique.
I want to cry
but I can't even speak.
My hands reach out,
but they cannot hold
a single thing
but the bitter cold.
Everything's frozen,
I feel lost.
Even my tears
have turned to frost.
When I cut my waist
it bleeds black.
I'm so deeply gone
there's no way back.
This is goodbye
Empty pages
Winter lines
Empty pages
Dawn chimes
Empty pages
I’m afraid of the dark
I hold my breathe when I’m alone at night
I feel its hand on my shoulder
Chilling as it grips tighter
With its knife to my throat, it tells me to run
Run around corners and past open doorways
Anywhere where it’s lurking about
Uncertainty is flourishing

I see shadows painted in paranoia
Stalk me while I walk to my car
Like bad memories and college debt
All through my life

Nothing else has this grip on my life
No addiction, no disease,
Only the darkness and its vice
Have such a control over me
Copyright Barry Pietrantonio
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)
Jerry Bradford
I feel you as a windchime whisper
Music in the breeze
And the trees love to  
song with you
What else could they do?
I feel you as a warble; sparkling with glitter
In varying ways and degrees
Still the trees love to sing with you
What else could they do?
I feel you as otherworldly
Not alien; not creepy
But better
Just not meant for this place
And the trees, the drowning yellow bees
The mantis clinging coyly to your leaves
Love to sing with you too
All in Hollywood Harmony
Cydney Something
All I know
Is how
I feel

And sometimes I
Wish I
Knew nothing
Your emotion doesn’t need to be justified
For it to be valid
To be felt

For Alan Watts once said
“It is unacknowledged hatred
That leads to violence”
Inspired by Alan Watts’ piece, “No Wrong Emotions” which revolutionized my relationship with emotions and how they are to be revered.
When I was little
I was scared
Scared of the monsters living under my bed
I used to hide, under my blanket
Under my blanket, I was safe
The monsters couldn’t reach me under my blanket

My parents used to say
The monsters would go away
I would grow up and that then they would leave

But I grew up
And the monsters didn’t leave
Turns out my monsters, grew with me
Now instead of under my bed
The monsters live inside my head

So I hide, under my blanket
Where I think I am safe
Wondering if after all this time
My blanket can still keep the monsters at bay
We could make a disturbing
poem that people might
mistake for high art
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.
She said "I'm falling in love."

I said "I'm falling apart."
What's the difference?
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.
Laughing with your favorite someone
is just downright good
for the soul
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’m really scared
Im loosing it
My fragile mind
Slowly bruising it
I think too much
Overusing it
it’s my fault
But I keep doing it
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.

You're more beautiful
And more outstanding and bright
Than you'll ever know.

You're worth more than you'll know. Just a reminder.
stumbled upon your hideaway
an unexpected intrusion,
sunken heart I swallowed
hallucinating your shadow,

bluntly dismissing my worries
as my eyes fondly sought
a heaven within your cheeks,

softly blushing underneath
your eyes treasured me
oh, naive little me,

put a foot aside, darling,
undone love awaits outside,
fantasies blinded your soul
while I stood, earnestly
yearning to own your heart
i wish i could be
a bit more like you
because being me
is simply too blue
i followed your steps
went where you did
still could not prep
to reach where you did
you've been that star
i've witnessed from afar
and all i have been
is an ugly scar
you don't even think
or will ever blink
in my direction
and today
this thought
makes my heart sink
i  don't know what it is
the guilt, the regret?
or simply a chance i'll miss
because my demons won't let
or ever set
me free
and in this ocean of me
i'll drown
going way down

-to the muse who'll never know that i wrote this for him
i don't even know why i'm writing this
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
I decided to write a poem
To put words together
In such a way
As to express
My innermost feelings

And I lost the words
And my thoughts drifted
And my computer keys stuck
And nothing came forward

Perhaps tomorrow
I will write a poem
To express my life
And for today
I’ll just go
To play
Hooria Iftikhar
I'm not sure how you don't
The wonderful wacky
Being that is me
I suppose I could try harder
But it's not my fault that
You can't see
And with a sincere smile,
she looked to the stars
knowing the future was worthwhile,
even, with a thousand scars.
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.
Thomas W Case
Saturn is in
line with
Venus tonight
but, nothing's easy
when you're down.
The clowns walk
around, dressed in
yellow; fast food smiles
and cheeseburger
souls, and nothings
easy when you're down.

The dancers with poles
and sadness, that Halloween,
fires burning...childhood,
perfumed dreams,
kind of sadness fills the
navy blue night.
I can't find the North star,
and the jack-lanterns lie rotting
in the streets of Nebraska
and Kansas, and the candies
all gone, and the kids wait.
And I can't find  
the deep blue shirt I bought
at Goodwill, and Billy Burroughs
is filled with worms and earth,
and Bukowski looks at Satan
and says, "what do you
mean, we're out of whiskey?"

I've never been much for the stars,
and family and Thanksgiving are
painfully overrated,
and nothing's easy when
you're down.
check out my youtube channel
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