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 156° 
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)
 81° 
Evie Helen
What happens when you bleed
To many times?
Do you run out of blood to shed?
Do you run out of dreams in bed?
What if I’ve met too many
Bad men?
Do I become just like them?
Do I stop loving and play pretend?
What if I’m cold and bloodless?
What if my feelings are spent?
Do I feel at all anymore?
How to I repent?
 74° 
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.
 50° 
Alex Teng
We fell in love by chance,
We stay in love by choice.
 37° 
Goddess Rue
Heaven rained on me,
I breathed in the petrichor,
Bathed in the downpour.
I have sinned,
So destroy me,
With your rain.
 31° 
f e e l i n g s
my heart aches for you in ways that it shouldn't.
you were my breath of fresh air and all of a sudden i couldn't breathe.
tell my why you made so many promises you knew you could not keep.
have you already forgotten me?
my love, i'm drowning in your silence,
please tell me it was real.
 31° 
Marie-Lyne
:)
I think
the world
needs
more
of us
than we
can offer
I should’ve
waited
for someone
like
her to
come
into my
life.
 27° 
Heavy Hearted
The alarm tolls,
On their rude device-
It's time for work
& yet still, despite
the thousand fascets
of one reality
These
middle-aged
Half-life(s),
These Newbrunswickin Chavs
Wouldn't recognize, really,
That Despite
the riddle's answer, Being  E;
& that double decade,
One might have over me,

When direct
Questions
go unanswered; The respect
I require
(now unvield)
Shapeshifts,
Off, into the past
Oh, how I  become

The Whip

Ruthlessly;
they crack
The Whip                        
& with
All that I am,

the past, In desperation, I forcefully trick
As the blackness, of my being
Forms a darkness,  spilling thick.
Engulfing light- mind's eye's Unseeing,  
Consumes oneself, like a candles wick -
Illuminating every route (for fleeing)
For me, the lights still on- homesick.

Forcefully, faithfully; to keep on believing, & even

just to keep the pathway lit-  by headlight, sunbeam, or doomscrolling trip-
Understand why might a human being
'S now become The Whip
Anything is possible and Nothing makes sense
 25° 
else
our surf together is done, we ride different waves now,
you said you split your time in pockets
while i slice my potatoes into tiny, little dice,
so maybe we’re not too different after all.

(i’m glad i said what i wanted to say for a while now,
and i want to let you know that i really meant when i said,
i’m really gonna miss you.)
 21° 
Saint kaya
The sky is
A graveyard of stars

And I remark
Something so tragically beautiful

Just like fireworks of art
From here to the nearest star

And I wish
I could lay awake
In the night

With you
And our lingering hearts

And tell you all about a tragedy
Called life
 19° 
ketjil
You can’t compare yourself
With the unbroken girls
Surrounding you
You already shattered
Creating
A new form
Of beautiful

-jt
a somewhat older poem
 19° 
Me
No more lies
or games
no shame taken
on

I am
what I am
and will
with no fibre of me
adjust
just to make you feel
better.
 17° 
Nat Lipstadt
Why Men Cry in the Bathroom

For so many reasons.
I will tell you the why.
I think you know,
Or perhaps, you think you know.

Men are always O.K.,
Even when not.

We expect the worse,
Accept the worse,
Nonetheless,
We are forever unprepared.

Wearily, we cry,
In the bathroom, in private,
Lest sighs slip by,
We be unmasked,
Early warring, strife signs warning.

Copious, tho we weep
Before the mirror confessor,
It is relief untethered,
Unbinding of the feet,
An uncounting
Of beaded rosaries,
Of freshly fallen hail stones,
Of night times terrors
By dawn's early edition's light,
and welcomed.

But look for the mute tear,
The eye-cornered drop,
*** tat, that never drops,
But never ceases formation and
Reforming, over and over again,
In a state of perpetuity of reconstitution,

The tippy tear of an iceberg revealing,
And I see you peeping, wondering,
What is beneath


Look for:
the torn worm-eaten edges of spirit,
thrift shop bought, extra worn,
grieving lines neath the eyes,
where the salt has evaporated,
discolored the skin.
worry lines,
under and above,
browed mapped, furrowed boundaries.
the laugh line saga,
where better days are stored,
recalled, as well as recanted,
publicly, privately.

Why just men?

I don't know,
Perhaps,
it is all I know.


Jan 6, 2013
your effusive and lengthy comments are each a poem in their own right.  

Tinkered with June 22, 2013
With a push from Bala,
A serial peeper, thank God!
 16° 
Nina
We hug
We kiss
We cuddle
In bed

We were just friends
We made out
To him
We were having ***
To me
We were making love
I was his friends with benefits
But he was my lover
 15° 
Nat Lipstadt
East River: The Many Calories in Water and Words**

this weighty obsession, counting the energy
consumed and disbursed,
to be lean but not mean,
traverses into its third year

a late start does not forgive
over Forty years of transgressions, that damage,
sustained and in part irreversible,
yet I awake this Sunday morn,
all quiet on the East Side front, observing the East River flows
on the surface, contented and uncontested,
strongly bound for faraway Oceans unknown, and it tickles my
imagination that the rain from the nearby Adirondack and Catskills mountains might soon be quenching thy flora, fauna and your parched throats, confirming and conforming our connection and threading our interwoven tapestries, our unified aqueduct, carrying
with more than poetic words, but poetic water!

this notion sustains in multiple manners, and I deep drink the calm and the power as if it were,
for it is,
a daily vitamin,
calorie free,
delivery

Delivering
us with
its contained and contentented potency to all
in equal dosage

and the script finished,
the water imbibed,
this baptized
mind and body
as/is
wholly holy refreshed,
my friend

8:38AM
April 14, 2024
by the East River
 14° 
Reimers
It may look like I'm silent
But don't let it fool you
I'm holding back the will
To say that I love you
 13° 
saige
Hey, text me when you get home safe.
Please dont drink and drive. And always let the people around you know that you love them. Who knows when they might be gone
 13° 
Luna Pan
When the war is over, when the art saved the world; you and me, we will make love on Shakespeare's sonnets.
 12° 
Eva
You took away parts of me that I will never get back
And I'm working ******* being okay with that.
 12° 
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.
 11° 
Anonymous Freak
And everything
Had happened
The way they promised
It wouldn’t.
 10° 
eileen
Is poetry dead
took its last breath
eating up all it's words
I'm feeling so hurt
poetry is dead
we mourned for days
sounds of sobs heard around the world

we slept in silence
lights on

poetry is dead
hello poetry welcome back to the internet
 10° 
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
 9° 
zak
Her
words moved me, and
God
i wanted my fingers to blister and my
bones to ache
but my mind withers and my heart breaks
i swallowed ink and still i couldn’t
make the words flow like they used to as if
almost as if
they refuse to
 9° 
Deeee
I dance.

My toes dig into the soft mud
My dress is drenched from the rain

I dance.
My arms are outstretched
Cutting through the air as I spin

I dance.
I smile at the moon
My heart is full
I'm in love with this moment

I dance.
 8° 
em
this world spins way too fast
my head turns a little too slow
im so lost
 8° 
Max
She said "I'm falling in love."

I said "I'm falling apart."
What's the difference?
 8° 
Stranger99
When the sunshine gets lost,
and I'm all alone
Time is forever and still.
Remnants of the sane
remain discarded and gone.
It's cold here and souls divide,
only to remain vacant and up for sale...
 7° 
Ann
keep your eyes closed love.

           e     t      
       m           i
    o                 m
s                        e  
                            s     all you have to
                                                                ­
                                                                ­ l                  to is what the sound
                                                           ­      i            n
                                                  ­                s           e
                                                               ­          t

                                                              ­                               v
                                                               ­                         a        e
                             ­                                          of the  w               s
                                                               ­                                       
                         ­                                                                 ­            tells  you
                                                                ­                                        to do.
"Keep your eyes closed, love. sometimes all you have to listen is to what the sound of the waves tells you to do."

When I was much younger, beaches were my second favorite places. I still love watching waves as they go by, crashing against each other and the whole process repeating all over again.
 7° 
haysia
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.
I still remember the day
I said it
When I was kneeling
Touching your feet
I love you dear
Being away from you
Makes me fear
You are the first
And the last
You are the world
That's my only word
Tears rolling over my cheeks
Have made of me an artist
An artist who paints with his tears
Your portrait is not for sale
Cz I am your only male.
Without you I am nothing
Your presence is like wings
Making me fly so high.
You made me someone
When all people around
Saw me no one
But something.
 7° 
the lost kid
This world is full of liars
Cheaters
Frauds
Trash talkers
No good doers
And people who will hurt you

But with you they don’t even exist, with you I feel my worries wash away
I feel like this is the last one about my feelings but oh well
 7° 
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.
 6° 
Columbusphere
Sometimes when sorrow sinks in
I worry a wailing might screech from my chest
And every person for miles might hear it.
Or feel it shake the air, like hot flame
Ripples carrying my saddest indulgence
As the beast that weighs me down, croons.
So that people quaking, step out of the way
And we have room to sing the lonely wail, some more.
© 2019 Columbusphere All rights reserved
 6° 
Piotr Balkus
In a mirror, we always look older
and we believe that it lies.
We blame it for every wrinkle:
Okay then, you lie, but why?!

How rude of mirror to do so,
like literally in the face!?
We give it so much attention
and what in return? Disgrace!

Or perhaps we do look older
indeed, and it doesn't lie.
Perhaps we lie to ourselves
and maybe we know well why.
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