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Aneesh H
I desire a daily verse:
A dose of well-worded fun;
Be it verbose or terse
Wrap it in a witty pun!
what does it feel like to be held
not by another body
not by a set of limbs, a chest, a chin
by another soul

what does it feel like
to see truth in another pair of eyes
instead of hidden intentions
instead of absence

what does it feel like
to hear a familiar heartbeat
resounding next to your own
reaching through skin
through bone
two rhythms

what does it feel like
to write poems about
a love that exists
By the train tracks she stood
Beauty like no other
An uncovering of a pure soul
Priceless jewel of the night

I found you
My early morning gold
Your heart
An immeasurable value

What a beauty
A gift for my happiness
Your wonderful splendor
A bringer of everyday's delight

I have encountered wonder
A feeling I wish to stay
My angel from above
You are my one true happiness

Written by Tosan Oluwakemi Thompson
This poem speaks of a person who encountered love by the train tracks.
Karly Codr
Even during quarantine
Sometimes hanging out with friends
On the one day of the year
That celebrates YOU
Can be the world
Complete Solace
After evey difficulty there is complete solace
Sheer contempt and hatred can change into love
What a wonderful system of Lord with grace
Love remains a complete chain all from the above
Beauty has its own reward to cherish to celebrate
To bring resonance in all difficult hours of trial
Lord is great to ameliorate this sweet excellent state
In every difficulty we have to have this for a while
Life is a great gift to be taken with all humbleness
Humans are the best creation ,is declaration of Lord
From the first day of bearth till last day its bless
Lord is extra kind to lookafter His every sweet ward
Colonel Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright July 2o2o Love Remains
knows that it's fine
Once in a while
To hide instead of
If only just
To catch
Your breath
Falling in love with you
was like nature welcoming spring

slowly the weather got warmer
just as our feelings for one another

slowly days looked brighter
just as our smiles

slowly flowers started blooming  
turning the world into paradise
just like our hearts intertwined
stefania rivoltini
I jumped on one foot
with a stone in my  hand
a smile in the eyes
and the wind in my lips

I walk on heels
in apparent balance
a lost child in the eyes
only silence in my lips
I don't believe
Freedom is real
I do believe
This world
No more wars
Stop it before it began

I don't believe
Your world
Is the same
I do believe
Has yet to come
Maria Etre
Our conversation
turned to quotes
in someone else's
where sleep no longer treads
these eyes endlessly weep
before the dawn
I step in the shadows kept
at these feet
always these moments
where I’m restless
yet, the emotion
is high
always the very
early mornings
am I profoundly
with who I am
and all that stood
before me
inside me
has found its
way to
A swift hit onto a plain wall
is far better
than an aching heart
that felt what the eyes have seen

My hands have a purpose
but it's far more fragile
than the love it holds

I'll break both
for I have grown numb,
Yet my eyes are waterfalls
that I need to put a dam
for you to not see the tears
In the olden days
Everybody wore a hat
Has it got warmer?
Salmabanu Hatim
You remember how we met,
The train stopped,
Our eyes met,
You said,"Hello!"
Your beautiful grey eyes stole away my words,
You became an ocean full feeling in that one single look.
Mary Gay Kearns
Over his years he had collected then
Not being sure of their date or place
Finding them digging the thatchers
Seventeenth century wasteland plot.

Stone Age in style and shape combine
To give a sense out of today’s machine
Fashioned by hand to be implements
On a windowsill now like organic rocks.

Love Mary **
Han Drew
You we're my sunshine
But then I remembered that the sun doesn't just shine for one person.
Flower C
Heaven rained on me,
I breathed in the petrichor,
Bathed in the downpour.
I have sinned,
So destroy me,
With your rain.
Flower C
You’re much like the rain,
You can be soft or heavy,
Or kind to my drought.
your presence
is all
i need.
Kasansa Kuya
What does blue look like to you?
if your blue was my red
and your red was my blue
We may be looking at the same thing.
We may have favored the same color.

Perhaps you don't look up
because the afternoon skies seem dark
or you don't visit the park
because a field of flowers
doesn't unburden your heart

is it true?
Quite impossible to tell
I cannot see you like the leaf sees the branch
or the coral in the sea
Such a connection is severed at birth.
I think we can agree

This is why silence is truth
because nothingness is unchangeable
it is a place where the mind begins
where we build our being
with the things
taught to us
in order to enable
or disable
I need to find somebody who sees blue
the same way I do
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
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.
If my fate is to love you
From a distance
Then I'll burn for you
Like a star in your night sky
Bright, steady, reliable
Until the end of time.
Some dreamy like starry skies,
Some shiny like fire flies,
Some visionary like poetry,
Some breathe aggressively.

Memories, that's what they say,
They are footprints of yesterday.
Wrote this for someone :)
and they never knew
they were lost stars,
building their empires
after many lost wars.
Todays new millionth sunrise bids me stand,
observe the river traffic from my kitchen window,
accept that my takings are debts,
a few, even paid back,
yet, most still owed,
for the origins of all my poems,
are oddly and oddity old,
unoriginal, second, third handed
as I look through the eyes of the dead,
and yours too,
this my unoriginal,
original sin....
(pretending  I am a poet)
nightingales attend
somber, stars
soul departs, eve flight
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)
you inhale tragedies
and exhale poetry
From where do you get your perseverance?
Jack P
Have you ever liked someone so much you regret meeting them?
I think in feeling too much, I forgot what it means to feel at all
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 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.
Colours fade in
Heart reeks of blood
On this hot July afternoon
I close my eyes to your song

Evening rubs on the windowsill
Louis Armstrong paints a dead memory
I am yet to open my eyes...
For you are yet to finish your song
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.
Ryan Dement
These kids can't cope,
don't eat on time.
They stomp craters in sidewalks
on their way to the
They choke me in comet tails,
blear beauty through brains,
cursing at cops,
stooping to saviors.
They streak their spit like evidence.

These kids get angry,
get plosive,
like it was kissing or grinning.
These kids get angry,
and I've yet to say thanks.
Maria Hernandez
I will always be there for you
I will always care about you
I will always fight for you
I will always love you

you were never there for me
you never cared, your silence was the key
you never fought for me, instead, you broke me free
you didn't love me, you  never accepted you and me
because you  judged a person I was never meant to be

Someday you'll realize I was there when no one else was.
That I loved you like no other, and I didn't judge you like the others
Makes me wonder, why do I still bother?
And over time,
My pen stopped bleeding
But my heart didn't
I do not know, sweet love
Where you lay your head,
I do not seek your secrets,
Nor your truth
I am satisfied with lies,
That taste of wasted youth
Jesse stillwater
Healing leaves are now disrobed branches
on the edge of this wilderness.
Many tall Douglas Fir stand sentinel
over 100 foot tall amazing grace — the fleeting leaves
expose the beauty of the moss clad scaffolds
adorned with a lime-grey lichen lace
Nature is my refuge — solid ground to stand
in this harmony and peacefulness.

Jesse Stillwater — December 2018
Left as a comment yesterday, mused by "Healing Leaves" by Reena Sharma:
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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