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 322° 
Ariana
Leave it to a 5 year old to ask
what everyone is wondering
11/25/2020
 250° 
Aa Harvey
Second sight


When you are young, you can only see the future.
When you are old, you can only see the past.  
When you find yourself at the right moment in life,
You can look forward gladly, as well as being happy to look back.


(C)2020 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
 239° 
Moss
February gone
March comes
Stay inside
Masks washing clean away
The months quickly flash
April
May
June
July
August
September
A job
School
All still inside
Masks masks masks
Clean, away
Death so much death not just from this pestilence
From other things
War
Suicide
October
Older
November
Still waiting
Waiting
Waiting
Waiting
Will the waiting
Ever end?
 223° 
Man
that we may fall
to arms

blades sharpened
on the grindstone of hate
atlas stands

shouldering the weight
that their words
were willed to do wicked deeds
he weeps

at the long suffering
at length and still here
 220° 
Darina Forgacova
Have you considered what will be your
first words when you are going to meet me?
So many right one to choose.

I know your answer now and it is perfect:
Never leave you alone my love.

So I will never leave you also.

I am curious about your eyes.
And eyebrows. I want draw their
shape with finger.
Look on you for a long time.
Think about what you think.
Watch your eyes.
To know I am yours and you are mine.
Forever.
 138° 
Bea Autumn
Time flies by so fast then its past

Remember special moments always last

So make some memories to treasure

Each day have and give some pleasure

So when second chances do come by

To love again say yes reach for the sky

Because I love the moments in time

When you're with me and you are mine

Cherish and relish everyday while you can

Precious are the moments when love is the plan
make every moment count
 121° 
Bard
Money, can buy me anything
But if I had to name just one thing
It would have to be nothing

Some say love is all you can want
But all it ever left me was a haunt
A broken heart shriveled and gaunt

Maybe friends can make me smile
But they never want to stay awhile
Here one day gone in a mile
 89° 
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!

Vanity but the computer is not correct
455 likes and loves
Beware.
 83° 
Leah Carr
They say I haven't lived long enough
They say I'm too young
They're wrong.
I've seen enough of life to know it's not worth living.
The only time I have left
is the time it takes to make a plan.
I can do this.
I will do this.
I'm decided.
It's not the coward's way out, it's the only way out.
 82° 
sheila sharpe
She was his
her eyes fixed upon his needs
expressed in his face
she was his
transfixed
her first glance upon awakening
her last glance before uneasy sleep
She was his
his voice enslaving her
the soft wheedling
the ugly commands disguised
She was his
his hands caressing
his fingers raking her soft, soft skin
She was his
his mind enclosing
enrapturing
her soul
deep within
control
 75° 
amanda
amanda
amand
aman
ama
am
i
allowed to admit
these letters
are losing meaning
everyday?
some days
i don't want to be me

some days i don't want
to be a person
 72° 
John Bartholomew
Sorry. Did I say man?

I meant men.

Men never grow up.

#plural

JJB
 71° 
hope
i started writing a poem about you
the words were ropes wound tight around my hands
but the ship was sinking.
so i cut the ties
the knife slipping and slicing cuts in my hands
and i let go
before i too became a wreck
 58° 
Ashly Kocher
Take me to the gates
Even just for a day
To take a look
Inside of your Heaven
So I know that your ok...
 55° 
Ian Dunn
Lost in a story I don't care
I need not but water and air

All alone, but I don't feel unwanted
The darkness is gone, the light untainted

I have neither a companion nor desire to feel loved
My fears, to the side I've shoved

My world could fall apart, but I'll survive
So long as my characters are by my side

Lost in a story, the eye of the storm
So long as I'm there, I'm safe and warm
 50° 
ali
perhaps I talk too much to the moon
and don’t listen enough to the universe

for I long for a love
too extraterrestrial
to ever find on this planet

perhaps a poet’s true fate
lies in solitude

for we yearn for connection
too shakespearean
to ever survive this modern day
I turn 21 on Saturday but feel around 70 if i’m honest.
 42° 
César Vallejo
Se bebe el desayuno... Húmeda tierra
de cementerio huele a sangre amada.
Ciudad de invierno... La mordaz cruzada
de una carreta que arrastrar parece
una emoción de ayuno encadenada!
Se quisiera tocar todas las puertas,
y preguntar por no sé quién; y luego
ver a los pobres, y, llorando quedos,
dar pedacitos de pan fresco a todos.
Y saquear a los ricos sus viñedos
con las dos manos santas
que a un golpe de luz
volaron desclavadas de la Cruz!
Pestaña matinal, no os levantéis!
¡El pan nuestro de cada día dánoslo,
Señor...!
Todos mis huesos son ajenos;
yo talvez los robé!
Yo vine a darme lo que acaso estuvo
asignado para otro;
y pienso que, si no hubiera nacido,
otro pobre tomara este café!
Yo soy un mal ladrón... A dónde iré!
Y en esta hora fría, en que la tierra
trasciende a polvo humano y es tan triste,
quisiera yo tocar todas las puertas,
y suplicar a no sé quién, perdón,
y hacerle pedacitos de pan fresco
aquí, en el horno de mi corazón...!
 39° 
Heather
Him
His face
The sight brings a smile to yours
His eyes
You can stare into them forever
His lips
You wish you can kiss them
His hands
You wish you can intertwine them with yours
His mind
It intrigues you
His soul
You can love it for eternity
His heart
It doesn't belong to you
 37° 
untitled
i know i can be cruel,
but so can you.
 36° 
Poppy
I saw her through my window
whilst watching the rain fall
She just stood there for a while
and let it all wash over her

The cold crept inside her bones
till she felt nothing but numb

The rain changed her
and I wish
I was not at the window,
but dancing in the rain
 32° 
Kairosclere
Find me,
A bumblebee,
Made not for flight,
Soar.
You know, bees aren't made to fly, only to hop from one flower to another to collect nectar; their small wings unable to support their weight. They still try. Maybe there's something to learn there.
 31° 
Zan
This phrase is absolutely disgusting
and it is completely crushing.

This phrase is an invasion of privacy
and it constantly gives me anxiety.  

This phrase makes me want to throw up
every time you ask a CHILD before they grow up.

This phrase shouldn't exist
don't you understand the pain it inflicts?

Just leave us alone
to live our life.
Let us live outside of the shadows
and put away that knife.
 30° 
nivek
Blood stained
mort ending
time surfer.
 30° 
Ana Sweeney
You made my world so
Small and so dark that I
Got lost, and I couldn’t
find the exit
 30° 
Shy
You were
My sigh of relief
And now
You’re gone
And I’m sitting here
Gasping for air
 27° 
Lady Misfortune
I say:
Do you want me to pretend you do not exist?

She says:
Do as you wish.

I perceive:
All I was once you moved onto the next,
A waste of breath.

What a mutual perception process,

You keep on running and now I have nothing but my beliefs.

And what do you have?
Your cup is empty

It would be full but...
You poke holes in all the words I speak
The art of assuming the worst

Created 5.21.18
 27° 
Saudia R
Let my silence teach you

what my words

did not
This year, do not explain yourself (especially repeatedly) to someone who does not listen. Let your silence be your response. Let your happiness be your response. Let your peace be your authenticity.
 27° 
elaine
you never asked to read my poetry
maybe that was the sign.
i told you i wrote for fun,
you shrugged and moved on.
red flags went up everywhere, but i didn’t bother looking
 27° 
John Wiley
It's gone.
I've checked.
I know.

But then,
it never was
much.

Made mostly of scraps;
A rough frame of old bush lumber;
Walls of flattened fuel cans
and lime coated hessian;
A roof of corrugated iron,
battered and rusting.

Scorched by searing summer heat;
Blasted by dust storms;
Chilled by winter frost.

Insubstantial
against the vastness of desert
that stretched in every direction
from the tiny bush town.

But it was home.
Within its walls
were love and care.
At its table
were sustenance and conversation.

For three years
we lived there
when I was a boy.

I'd rise early
and sit on the edge
of the gibber plain
with our dog
watching the sunrise.

One morning
I heard
the jangling of hobbled camels
returning to town
from a night
in the desert.

On another,
there were herds of cattle,
walked in from
an outlying station
for drafting and yarding,
then transport southward
in a train
hauled by a small steam engine.

At the stock-yard
we'd pretend to be cowboys,
prodding the cattle in the loading race
with sticks,
revelling in the dust and noise,
caring little for their terror
or their destination.

One day we hiked
out past the stock cemetery,
of carcasses leering sightless,
scavenged by crows.
We trudged
to the red sand hills,
then back to the rail-line
for a ride home
with the fettlers.

We went barefoot often -
foot-soles like leather
from the searing sand.
In the heat of the day
we'd pause in the scant shadow of a bush,
to choose the next meagre patch of shade,
then run like the wind
to roll on our backs,
waving scorched feet
in the air.

It's still all there in my memory.
Every few years
I take the old track north,
just to check,
to experience again,
to remember.

Other than the vastness of the desert,
it all seems smaller now -
one tiny settlement
within the compass
of an unbroken horizon.

The old house
is just a memory.

It's gone.
I've checked.
I know.

But then,
it never was
much.
 27° 
Deb Jones
This is my heartache
To bear witness, to listen
As one of my adult sons
Cries from a heartbreak
Only to me will they cry
As I make soothing noises
 27° 
naught
let's vibe together, someday.
with t.s songs.
 26° 
Eshwara Prasad
Bad times: You run in circles.

Good times: Others run in circles for
                       you.
 26° 
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° 
Elias
'don't tell my mom and i won't tell your dad'
'we're just two boys in love, what's so bad?
 25° 
Brett
If I die tonight
Please don’t pray for me
Hell is full
And Heaven’s gates don’t open free

If I die tonight
Look up to the stars
Peel back the façade
Past the hate in our hearts

If I die tonight
Find peace in my courage
Never backed down
Went out in a flourish
 25° 
Aasiyah
i like you.
i like you, i like you

i like you
nevermind that,
i love you

i love you.
i love you,

i love you, i like you

i love you, i like you,
and i hate you.

i hate you
i hate you.

i hate you, hate you.
i'm so, so, very ungrateful.
i wish i never meant you.
i hate you, i say it low

and you'll never know.
some of the things i keep secret.
i want to scream it.

but now...

i like you.

i like you.

i like you, i like you,
i like you.

i love you.

i love you.

i love you.

i like you, i like it,
i love you.

i love you.
 25° 
caroline
pony-tailed playmate
head tucked in her shirt
gazing steadily down
at her toes in the dirt

chaos tiptoes around her
naive oblivion
journeys in far away lands
just west of the meridian

watercolor fairy tales
bleeding outside the lines
unaware of the danger
unaware of the signs

let me sit with you, darling
in the dampened flower beds
and paint a new world
for us in our heads
 25° 
Nat
You’ll become a poet of habit
A Monday’s offer in the supermarket
Your words will sell themselves
To feed the overfed
Alas
You don’t like the idea
Yet
You’re consumed by it.
 23° 
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.
 23° 
GrumpyTurtle
mom loved me
dad didnt care
mom stayed close
dad wasn't there
there is a difference
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