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 4306° 
C
I am haunted:
Not by poltergeist,
but by my unlived lives.
Parallel universes
won't ever speak,
they took an oath
to keep from me.
I have words and voices
humming in my head
that will never be met
outside of my bed.
I have to accept
I cannot have it all,
I have to accept
knowing nothing at all.
 220° 
sergiodib
King Covid, your domain is so solid
A lot of people are so stupid
A ruthless minority are so avid
Sympathy, they say, is outmoded
Soon this world will be exploded

King Covid your time has eroded
Your instructions have been decoded
A vaccine will soon be deployed
You'll be traced and destroyed
But What is our place in this world?
Is a question WE can no longer avoid.
afterthepeak.eu
 208° 
LJ
pen
thing is,
most of us here

write,
not to impress
but to express

that's why i love it here.
 182° 
Jeremy Stacy
We commonly lay in curiosity and think consciously of biology and astronomy, how people get lost in the monotony,
how lives may change with more autonomy,
how to unravel human psychology and use the knowledge responsibly, how to create comradery and use this to increase the velocity
between two people caught in an apology to listen to the other audibly, sometimes the conversation ends in despondency but I’d rather live in truth with you than in dishonesty
 149° 
Maria Mitea
Unread my buried poems
in worldly words of mouth
Unread the drops of water
from spilled ink on the ground

The breath of mouth
You unread when covered
with the dying roses
unread the doubts
unread the doubts
unread the doubts
of the mouth

Unread the walls of caves
from tongues of creepy lions
Unread the burning love
when falling on the clouds
In dusty foam unread
Unread the words of mouth
 124° 
toleomato
Perhaps I had lived,
Just as petals
Of a flower
In autumn.
 120° 
Mary Frances
I look at myself everyday
in the mirror and then realize
I've been given the most beautiful gift
I could ever ask for - my existence;
my chance of life;
my chance of love.
 99° 
Alice
I like to freeze moments in time
take a step back, and notice all the details
so that hopefully, when we're old and gray
and barely remember our own names

I can still close my eyes and see
the plants in your living room
the $8 bottle of wine on the coffee table
the dinosaur blanket we shared
the pain in my stomach from all our laughter

and the way I was the happiest I'd ever been
 71° 
Acina Joy
There are steel shears
in your lying hands
and a dress of hedges and thorns
that are my shielding woods.
In the back of my mind, as you hack
away at my limbs and marrow,
cut through bone and sinew;
I pray your blades grow dull
in what is left of me,
for steel simply rusts,
while I simply grow.
She was stuck
in endless cycles
it seemed to her
more harm than good
to be a girl
in this world
 66° 
Julie
One step is all you need
Time will tick hands to bleed
Look out inside, what thought
Life begins late of taught

One step in front to move along
Open up hear your song
Let go outside, what hears
Life begins late to cheer

One step behind no turning back
Closed cup to spill to dry
Release inside, outside to cry
Life begins, not late to try
 60° 
julia
The later it draws,
the dimmer I dawn
Forever a fool
but never your pawn

Rue rashes and rasps
in meticulous song
For when latter leans left,
the blaze barrels on.
 58° 
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
 58° 
Amanda
Molding lumps of clay,
Sticky, earthen residue,
shaped to doughy love.
 56° 
August
hey.
so, there was this one day, a few years ago.
i think you know which one i'm talking about.

listens for a moment

right! and i tripped-
that hasn't changed, i'm still a klutz-
and you grabbed my hand and dipped me
just the way your mama taught you in second grade
and pretended to kiss me?

listens for a moment. laughs

yeah. that was the day i knew you'd always be around.
so, even though you're leaving now...

sighs

whether or not you want to...

turns around, paces for a moment

i know you're not really leaving.
because you're still...

listens, rolls eyes

yeah, i know it's corny, but it's true.
you're still right here.

taps chest, right over heart

you can't leave that.
 54° 
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.
 54° 
lhm
Ikatan ini tak bisa mengontrol segalanya,
Ikatan ini tak harus tau setiap detiknya "aku sedang apa",
Ikatan ini tak mesti cemburu dengan teman lelakiku,
Ikatan ini tak berhak mengatur pakaian yang kan kugunakan,
Ikatan ini sebaiknya berikan aku kebebasan, karena bisa saja ku gunting ikatan ini dan akan benar-benar bebas.

-lhm
 51° 
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!
 43° 
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.
 39° 
VibeActivist
The reason i like the site is because there are people from different parts of the words so to take advantage of that if you see this I'll drop a stanza and you drop a stanza in the comment section then the next person continue with his/ her stanza

“somewhere, very far away
where all our obstacle didn't exist
where we are just ourselves
where i could call you mine and i was yours
and we didn't have to fight to feel happy,
we didn't have run so far to feel loved
somewhere within the skies”
 37° 
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
 34° 
Puck
A toast to life
Sad and confusing but beautiful at last
 32° 
Beulin S S
Beautiful days...

When I believed the moon

is following me;

When I believed trees can move

Fast with the train...

When I believed swallowed seeds

will grow as plants in my stomach;

When I believed all super heroes

On the screen were real;

When my mom fed me

   with the beautiful stories...

My childhood colours sprinkles

  Smile on my face with my memories.
Normal life of a child yet beautiful.
 31° 
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
..
 31° 
v
frozen to death
its all i can see
smoke in the ear calls to my feens
Im here and Im there
making it hard to breathe
back and forth
falling up but always jumping back down

why or what can make this be seen.
a thousand apologies more will not
make spoken words unheard
 27° 
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
 25° 
JDMaraccini
I promise you as we stand on the ledge
you will never enter heaven
I do not regret who I am
I only regret that I married you

I open my arms and hug the wind
the memories begin
I was there when she was born
you took everything from me

I say out loud as we fall
I wish I never met you
The teacher, the mother, the preacher
Deceptive, hypocrites, liars

The truth brings dignity
you have no integrity
My hatred for you grows
as we fall into oblivion
© JDMaraccini 2013
 24° 
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
 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° 
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
 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.
 23° 
Erik Luo
The sky
is crying
The clouds,
singing

About
that pain
Before
Love
 22° 
Donall Dempsey
LE PRINCE DE DEMPSEY Á LA TOUR ABOLIE

Even my shadow
refuses to walk with me.

Even my reflection
refuses to see me.

Even my imaginary friend
refuses to speak to me.

"Why then Ile fit you.
Dónall’s mad againe."

Here in my own
personal Waste Land

tangled up in Nerval
and Eliot. I Kyd ye not.

And with no explanatory
footnotes.

I'll get even...I'll get even
with the lot of them.
 22° 
Tom Dodd
What sort of wretch am I?
Who curses God from where I lie
When I want to sing
I want to cry
But my arid throat’s too dry
To utter anything but
“What sort of wretch am I?”
 21° 
Luiz
some                   I
     say                     call
           it's                   It        
                poetry.          oxygen.


I write, therefore I am.
 20° 
Shofi Ahmed
You do your I do mine
in such religious norm
that’s not meant to force
no respect one could find
could this be a healthy mind?
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