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 366° 
Jac
my dear, do not worry
too often
your flower is still young —
green, barely has it rooted.
the time will come
you will flourish,
as it will bloom.
i hope you are well.
 240° 
Max Asher
..
this morning i woke up and your side of the bed was empty and cold
please come back home.
 208° 
Bethany M P
The sand shifts beneath your feet,
Your heart relaxes to a quiet beat,
The waters seem to breathe day and night,
Close your eyes take it in do not fight,
The wind satisfies your soul,
Just relax now you've played your role,
Touch the sand now scoop it up,
Hold it in your hands and form a cup,
Now let it seep through towards the sandy ground,
Your soul was lost but now its found,
The weather you desire will come your way,
Just stand closer to the bay,
Soon life will be eternal for you and me,
Look beyond the ocean and tell me what you see.
                          -open heart poetry
 162° 
Suus
It's such a overused word.
I don't believe you,
when you are talking about me.
 127° 
Naveen Malhotra
No notes
No quotes
She isn't crazy
There he
Sits waiting
For her
He's crazy
No calls
No texts
She isn't crazy
There he
Sits waiting
For her
He's crazy
No emotions
No feelings
She isn't crazy
There he
Sits waiting
For her
He is crazy
No vibes
No drives
She isn't crazy
There he
Sits waiting
For her
He's crazy
He's in
Urequited love
Love doctors
Please tell him
Tell him
He first
Love himself
For his welfare
One day
Love will
Follow him
As he desires
 120° 
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!
 100° 
Ces
Leave

me

alone.
 95° 
Nathanial clark
My mind is a jungle
Crowded with these uncaged animals
Covered in unbloom flowers
Rainstorms happening everywhere
Living in another world within the one I am in
A daily struggle to manage the animals
Leaving myself open
For everything to hurt me
Attacking whenever they want
Only to befriend my jungle of a mind
The madness from within will befriend you
Everyone at peace for once
A quite and peaceful noise
 91° 
jas
mesmerized
you got me daydreaming
about your eyes
I almost forget to breathe
when you stand right next to me
you get me so high
you're out of the universe
the way you got me locked
it's like a curse
i'd never wish this upon anyone else
am i selfish?
only want it for myself
 82° 
Ay
I feel comfortable with him, sort of safe. His little ways of affection
restores some of my faith to make me feel brave. He's nothing but special despite the miles in between us because when two hearts have a connection then distance cannot delay fate.
 79° 
mygreatestescape
I was waiting for someone

who?

I do not remember.
 76° 
Tom Turner
Your eyes have hands –
I bet you didn’t know.
They touch, more than fingers
and hold, more than arms.
They hurt, more than fists
when you simply look away.
 69° 
wills
the person youre in love with is supposed to make the world more colorful,
but what are you supposed to do when youre colorblind
The illusion of abundance
A barmecidal way of life
Having just enough guts and gall
That you don’t have to think twice
Transparency to view the hype
My delusion is my vice
Justice from decisions made
For rich and poor alike
Not enough to make a change
But enough to entice
And after all is said and done
I only ask you name your price
 59° 
rk
i want to write poems for you
but you bled me dry
and now all i have are whispers
in place of sonnets.
 53° 
annh
12
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9         «———  >§<  ———»         3

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6


“Struck is the hour from its ivory tower,
At sixes and sevens, the stars in their heavens,

As minute hands dance at twilight's advance,
To the cadence of time, the archangel’s chime;

Listen closely for me at a quarter to thee,
‘Twixt the tick and the tock of grandpapa’s clock,

Unquicken thine pace, for run is the race,
Hear the pendulum lock, ziccoty, diccoty, dock.

‘There was a sudden stillness like the gap between ticks on a clock, but the next tick never coming.’
- Sadie Jones, The Outcast
He
Broke my wings
So I couldn’t

Fly

So I stole his soul
So he couldn’t

Die
 45° 
keila skie
I know
You care about me
10 more people do
Yet I can't get rid
Of this feeling
Of doom

I know
I have you
10 more people too
Yet I can't find a person
To talk to
late at night
 43° 
Jeremy Stacy
A depression had me gloom
from the loss I presume
an exhaust would resume
until I saw you bloom
Instagram jst490_poetry

We are all but
Images
In the eyes of others
perceived
In one’s own
believed
The truth
The lies
Dire
Premise
Fire and ice
Sugar and spice
Ingredients to life
Diluted
Created
Distilled
Images
 36° 
Salmabanu Hatim
I almost died in a car accident,
I saw the Angel of Death take my
husband with him,
I desired to leave the world too
with my beloved .
The conductor refused me to board the bus,
Saying my name was not on the list for almost twenty years to come.
So here I am writing poetry on HP.
23/9/2020
 34° 
Betty
Birdsong at sunrise
Rising sweet on the clear air
A hymn of morning
 32° 
yellowgogh
little she did know,
her bruises had been
the fertile soil of
wildly beautiful flowers
and, her tears had watered them
to not just be a season bloom,
but a forever spring.
 31° 
Abby
Not everything needs a poem
Sometimes
it’s already

good enough.
 30° 
callie joseph
she
i couldn't tell you where
but she was surfing on her own
salty water in her hair
and a ribcage full of stone
the lit cigarette was smothered by the sand as the rains came in
 30° 
Nellie 55
run it up to me, we out here about to drink. let our minds shrink. let the slur start talking. snapchat blowing up on our stories to have views stalking.
we're letting go, chilling by the fire before it gets cold. weekly tunes, about ready to bust a move.
 30° 
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
Writing  makes her happy.
When the pen.
Feels her pain.
And the paper.
Understands her words.
A friend of mine told me
I write when I’m sad
She said it is as if I am in pain
And I said when I write it rains
When I put the pen on paper the clouds get dark
And when I stop
The birds of the sky sings
Coming out to play as the sun is out
blurry
is my future
foggy
is my brain
but the way i see you
crystal clear
 28° 
Palak Datta
He asked me- "Why are you still a ******?
I smiled and said- "I'm good at DIY"
.
..
...
The science of our body is such that it doesn't distinguish between ******* and ****** ******* since, the end result is the same.

Then why do we lust for people? Why do we look for mates even when we aren't planning to prove Darwin's Theory of Survival of the Fittest!
 27° 
Word farer
Until you never understand yourself
Believing people will understand you is worthless...
#todaysrealisation #truth #bitter
FIRST UNDERSTAND YOURSELF AND YOUR HEART
 25° 
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.
 25° 
Christina P
I was unhappy
and I know you felt it.
Because one day
with no warning,
you said goodbye.

Without looking back,
you just left me
on the side of the road.
With a shattered heart
and broken dreams.

Your last words to me
still ring in my ears,
before I go to sleep at night
and the moment I wake up.

"I can't stay.
Because if I do,
you'll walk away.
If there's one thing
I've learned in life,
it's to leave
before you get left."
 25° 
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.
 25° 
Jeanette
I.
My son does not understand fear,
he is 3,
he thinks in color,
he believes in magic,
he says that our dog Smokey
controls the weather.

Watch him as he goes!
Jumping over cracks on sidewalks,
pretending to fly,
attempting to get near electric outlets
because he saw them spark once,
and fire,
fire is cool!

"Watch me Mommy!

watch me."

II.
Some days I stay in bed all day,
I tell everyone I am catching a cold,
a sinus infection,
another migraine again.

It is easier to lie than to explain,
that it is too difficult to shower,
to find an outfit, to brush my hair,
to make food,
to chew it.

Friends jokingly call me a hypochondriac,
my Mother thinks I am mellow dramatic,
My son asks me if I need my temperature checked.

It is too honest to say,
"I am fighting monsters, and they won today."
Who would believe me if I did?

We are taught since childhood
to not believe in the things
we can not see.

III.
The day we buried my Grandfather,
I wore my favorite gray dress,
I was scared to taint it
with such a sad memory,
but I was 8 months pregnant
and nothing else fit.

We threw dirt in a hole
as three strangers watched us grieve.
They stood with shovels ready to do their jobs,
ready to get home to their loved ones.  

All I could think about was how much
it aches to love anyone,
even in the good times, it aches.
Loss dances outside our window
like flames, waiting to engulf.

I vowed to protect my child
from any unnecessary pain,
I vowed to make him feel safe.

Now I fear I am the one
tainting him in gray.

IV.
Not every day is bad,
most days are nice, in fact,
some days are so good
that the bad ones seem
like distant memories.

On the good days I feel brave,
brave like my son;

I tickle his tummy and show him
which lights are stars, which are planets,
and tell him I love him, always,
no matter what.
.day 50..

the flowers are corona as you know
now
they escape it seems
and spread about

i went back with resolve to be
untidy
then looked at the extra sleeve
and got excited

so back to the drawing board
hardboard

to work again on this corona
angel

joan
she is always joan
the other one
 24° 
Terra Levez
When I got lemons from Life
They told me
to make lemonade
I tried and tried
But the yellow drink kept coming red
with my hands burning
from the cuts that Life left me with
Now burning with acid
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