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 225° 
Cydney Something
...what you thought was a frisbee turns out to be a boomerang.
 103° 
Bek Blanchard
Now there were two of them
Separated between thousands
of read texts and timely
chats touched by sound
but not skin  
Awake in the others sleeping
Sleeping in the others awake  
Restless as they wait
Restless as they wait
 83° 
Tee Dossantos
The love I have for this human is by far the sweetest thing to touch my heart.

She is of my womb, of my ansestors and of my guides.

May she never let anyone dim her light, may she dance to the beat of her own drum, may she never lower her voice but scream and kick and make her claim upon this world.

May she be of magic, of the night, of crystals and sage. May she be of courage and rebellion.

May she be of love.

The love I have for this human by far reaches the darkest depths of my soul.
 80° 
Phoenix
I play our song
and sometimes I swear
I hear you humming along to it
even though youre so far away
“Do all poets wear masks?”

a stranger, unwittingly flung
into the path of the flurry
of my pen, asked me

No, I said. Only the sad ones...

“Aren’t they all sad?”

he said

(Check mate)
 79° 
Deadwood Jawn
-------------------------------------------------------



H́ͨ̆ͪ̉­̴̛̫̥̳̪̘̫͙̟ͪ̈̓ͨ͟ͅE̶̊͒̔̀͛̌͡͏̛͉̦͚͚͔͝ ̵͑̔͗ͥ̉̐͋̈ͥ͒͑̋ͨ̍͂̚͏͕̼̲̫̥̫̮̙͖̤̮͖͓̲͍͍̀̕W̢̹͕̫͇̙̞͇̪̌̋̆̔̃͛͛ͩ͐̊̃ͨ̅ͮ̍͊̈́́̚­͉͕͍̞̱̠ͅͅA̛͆̋ͩ̓͋̓҉̶͙̣̹̥̩̘̪S̡̃ͤ͗̒̐̊͛̍̕͞͏̰͍͖̥̦͎̻̱̪̪̙̭̫͔͚̘̣͉ͅ ̵̉̈́̌̾̿ͪͤ̃̈́͏̡̗̪̦̹̪̟̞̪̗͇̯ͅN̸̢̨̺̱͉͙̝̖̣̻̺̳͔̮̱̜̪͚̠̤̜ͬͮ͐ͤ̋ͪͩ̇̂̀͊̉̏ͦ̏̌ͧ̑­O̵̡̹͓̣͙̘͈̩̳̫̼̖͙͌̂̃̚͘͠Ṭ̢͓̭̦̣̗̩̭̪͉͓ͤͬ̋̎̓̾̔͛͛̔͂̾ͬ̄͊ͦͥ̅͡ ̧ͩͤ̑̿̿̇̚͘͏̢̛̯̬͍̹̳̘͇̥̩̣̩̟̤̺͉A̶̴̬̗͍̥̞̞̩̝̩̣̰̳ͯ̎ͥ̏̃ͮͤ̆̋̏͜͜Lͨ̀̄̏̓̉̋͆̋̇­̸̧͔̼̰̪̱͕̞̺̬̼̘̟̭ͥ͐͒̅͗͠͝͠W̧̖͙̞̪͙͙ͮ̑ͥ͆͛̌̽ͭ͐̌ͩͦ̓́̚̚͘ͅA̰̺̝͙͖̻̹̘̣͌ͨ̾̓͢͜­̬̣̺Y̢͎̹̩̺̦̬͚͉̲͎͓͉̅̄̽̅̎̏̎̌͂̃ͫͭ͞͞S̴̵̨̠̞̖̠̳̖͇̓̇ͧͮͥ͗͑̅̃̾͗͂ͨ͊́̆ͨ͢͢ ͦ͌̌̃̋̒̽͜͏̴̧̪̯̻͙͇̙͈͉̠̠͇̜͈͇͍̣͕̞͢L̵ͪ̊̏̃ͭ̒͊҉҉̞̰̣̥̺͙̣̥̳̠̹̭̘̜̜̙Iͨ̂ͬ̑̿͋͐­̲̗̹͓̠̜͕̞̞̻͙̞͚̼̫̲̞̣̟̃͑̓̃̂͊͛̅̓ͥ̕͜K̅͊ͤ̃̊͂ͮ͊͒̒̎̿҉́͡҉͏̖̯̜̜͔̪̖̟̙̞̺͎̦̖̠E­̶̶̵̪̱̺͍̫͎̣̾̽̂̾̒ͣ̀ͬ̏̐̿ͭ̿͟͡ ̸̧̡̞̠̻̟́̅ͮ̋̕͢T̡̢̼͕̝̠̼̩̜̜͓̠̱̘̜̲̦́͆ͩͨ̈͊ͮ̆̈͑͐̚͜͢͝ͅH̡ͫͧ͛̐ͦ̋ͣ̔̓̾͆͐ͥͯ̚͢­͕͉̤̫̹̟͇̭́I̷̧̨̒ͬ̇ͬ̾̆ͬ̂̌͌͏͍͍͔̖̮̪̖͓̰͎̪Ş̴̰̭̜͓͚̖̯̦͇͓̞̹̼̺͖̐ͪ̐̅͒̚̕͘



­--------------------------------------------------------
He wasn't. Thanks for understanding, Lydia.. Lydia is angry.. Someone's hurt him..
This is Lydia speaking.
 58° 
Lahari
I need to know for sure
Can I love you more

Oh! You are so right for my soul
Can I love you more

It makes me happy to love, if you feel the same
Can I love you more  

I ask for no more so
Can I love you more

Oh yes! I know it's hopeless...still
Can I love you more

For, loving you keeps me alive...so for my sake
Can I love you more

Will I ever get a chance to explain
To look into your soul and remain

Till then...till the end of time...and I ask one last time
Can I love you more
 54° 
Rachel
Nothing to remember us by
Not a trace to our memories
But I know it's out there
Transposed somewhere in the celestial records
The  brevity of love encounter
 52° 
Traveler
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
Hay
No matter who you are
You have my deepest respect!
 50° 
Astral
When I was a child,
I was taught poetry wasn't mild,
It was deep as the sea,
And it seemed truly unachievable for me.
I was taught poetry had to rhyme,
Every single line, every single time.
So poetry seemed out of my reach,
Like chasing a seagull down a beach,
Jumping ever so slightly away,
Or soaring into the sunny day.

So I never thrived for what I thought would,
No, Could
Never be.

I guess now I'm fixing the mistakes of past me.
 48° 
E
The face in the mirror
the look in the eye's
that reflection ain't me it's just a disguise
the fading of hair
the wrinkles that bend
it's just a life story that's told on my skin
this man in the mirror he ain't really me
their's a child inside that want's to be free
that woman of mine you could say she's the same
sometimes in the covers we laugh and play games
but as I get old and my life bears thin
I think of the fun
and think of the friends
so you could say i'm kind of bold
it's just a part of getting old
A poem my dad wrote on his 45th birthday
we all thought it was funny but truth is
I think it was the greatest one he ever wrote
 44° 
Alice
yes, love comes in many forms
but you're my favorite
you make me brighter
 44° 
Benzene
Hey smile!
Where are you?
I'm searching you everywhere
But you are not there.

Is this our friendship
Which we have shared
I don't need you to be fake
Please give me a real smile
And awake

As it is the only one
Which can hide my pain
Comeback my dear
And stay on my face
Let's shake the hands
And disappear all the aches
 41° 
Amanda
I feel like a storm.
Powerful, striking and dark,
but also afraid.
 33° 
tainted black
..
she
closed her
eyes and took
a very deep breath,
crossed her fingers then
w  h     i     s    p   e    r     e   d,
"I long to see the   o n l  y
man who made me
shine in his
darkness
..
 28° 
misha
your name is
forbidden in
my mouth
or in my heart
because when
i think about
you;

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
 27° 
JL Smith
It's been said,
If you love something
Let it go

So you did
And I'm free,

But I'll return
Knowing

You love me

© JL Smith
 27° 
Jeremy Stacy
It’s so cost demanding,
keeping track of time,
I need energy for expanding,
this curious mind of mine
 26° 
Wanderer
Is it the words whispered
in secret corridors
i love you

are they proclaimed boldly
from roof tops
I LOVE YOU

Or maybe love
sounds like laughter
giggles shared only between two

what if love has no noise
its beauty is similar to a sunset
seen and felt
but never heard
 25° 
JWolfeB
It was abruptly apparent to myself
Slapstick honest in the chest
Reality became emperical
When pull yourself up by your boot straps
Became an invitation to self destruction
A boot lace golden ticket
To a counterfeit perception of relief
 25° 
A W Bullen
All abound
in crimson throws,
low lamentation
bids farewell,
for beaten folk, who,
troubled tread
for light has failed
to find them.

Endorphins dull
the sting of use
as fractured boarders
pall away.
Three times removed,
yet leaving nought,
save footprints
far behind them.
 25° 
Blake
Tell me the truth
Do you find me cute?
I find the way you write beautifully.
Your poems are like magic to my eyes.
This all started with a simple hey.
 24° 
Amanda
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Life may be hard
But at least I have you
You make me smile
When skies are grey
The moment we touch
Problems fade away
No matter what you’ll always be
The best thing I’ve ever known
I can’t promise to make it all better
But you won’t have to face it alone
For the one that I love and care for so deeply <3
 24° 
REY
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.
 24° 
jacquelyn
s
i still remember your birthday
and your favorite color
how we got together on a thursday
and when i left you in the summer
 24° 
Phoenix
Look in the mirror
and tell me
what you seem to see.
You see,
that girl in the mirror
staring back at me
customarily seems
to have the match
in her hand,
threatening to cease
what we perceive
as "me".
I could never tell you
about the match,
silently waiting
in her hand.
 24° 
Jeremy Stacy
Always allied accomplices with
in sync connected consciousness
following one another in confidence
machines moving eerily and ominous
entranced and engaged in cognizance
two people acting autonomous
it’s like they’re synonymous
A poem about two people acting synchronous in performing a task
 23° 
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.
 23° 
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.
 22° 
Luiz
some                   I
     say                     call
           it's                   It        
                poetry.          oxygen.


I write, therefore I am.
 22° 
Betty
The people in my head
All speak with different voices
I set them free in ink
and I make all their choices!
 22° 
Zoe Grace
To read is to breathe
To write is to drink
To listen is to eat and
To wonder is to believe
Literature is energy for the soul
 22° 
Dresden
I'm not stable enough for love
I'm not kind enough for love
I'm not worthy enough for love
I'm not ready for love
Lord please save me
I don't feel human
I don't have strength
I don't belong
I don't want to live
I'm nothing but depressed
A lost case
A piece of work
A damaged ex
Will I ever turn my life around?
And see the world differently?
Like it's meant to be
Like I have a destiny
Like anyone wants me
To be here
 21° 
shwimoe
Welcome to my little world,
Take a seat and hear me speak
Things are a little bit different here
Happiness is the calm before another storm
Look at the birds, they don't sing happy songs
Rain doesn't often come but doesn't mean weather's fine
Everything's in black & white
Time runs backwards and future's no more
You and I are here in the Past
Don't ask me where other people are
They all had to leave just like you'll have to
While you're here, leave some sadness behind
It's in the air you breathe, in the ocean and even in the sky
So why don't you add some in this huge collection?
Have you noticed yet?
We are sitting but we aren't touching any ground
Apparently there is none, oh don't freak out
Things in my world just float around
We drift aimlessly here and there
Look around and enjoy your visit
It's comfy and cool here
Let's drift aimlessly together
Until you feel like "what's the point here?"
Then you leave me and my little world behind
Cuz me and my little world,
We can never be saved from this constant sadness and aimless floating.
 21° 
I'm not Anne
She's crying from her smile.
That hypocritical smile
that she once swore to erase.

She doesn't want to meet anyone else
She doesn't want to come into their lives
trying to escape.

She just wants to be alone,
get on the train of dreams,
get to the other side.

She just wants to be alone
because that's better
than surround herself with strangers.
 20° 
Palak Datta
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
   I   '   m
  n   o   t
   f u s e d ;
  M a y  b e
   a    l   i   t   t   l  e
   c   o   n   f   u   s  e  d  .
  I ' ve    s  t  i  l  l    g  o  t
  a    l  o  t   o f   f  i  g  h  t
  l   e   f   t     i    n    m   e ;
  I ' ve    s  t  i  l  l    g  o  t
a   l o  t   o f   l i g h t
   l   e   f   t     i    n
    m  e . . . . .
Edison did not just invent the bulb;
He created a bright future by not giving up.

Last night I thought I would never get up. But here I am today.
Its not falling that scares me; What scares me is never wanting to get up again!
 20° 
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.
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