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 570° 
Dave Robertson
Skimming and scanning
the grammar of the riverbank’s
brown leaf, new shoot syntax
a bold type wren,
like the old bouncing ball of singalongs,
led my eye to read the waterline
and yet I still couldn’t discern
if smiles or tears were written
while the branch tips still scribed
 327° 
William J Donovan
Time is worth more than gold
on your deathbed being sold.
Expiration dates aren't legible.
Just ask a drowned 10 year old.
Cancer is the roulette wheel.
After chemo see how you feel.
Just sell my soul for morphine
with the pain in my machine.
 310° 
Jason
Pooky,

I love you
I miss you
I want you
I need you

You are every hope
You are every dream

You are my only wish


© 04/11/21 Jason R. Michie All Rights Reserved
 210° 
acacia
too sweet
too nice
too kind
my eyes tear up
no one cares
no one likes ME
I'll have to slam the world outside
 164° 
M Vogel

This place. I don't know.
so many people / want to block..
  their words,
they climb all over me.
one's in particular--

Heart-expressed words bringing down
the healing light of relationship to the parts of me
who up until now
have known little or no relationship of its kind;

      and there is conflict within me as I fight it..
    years the locusts have eaten; and the opportunity of restoration;
      often squandered. in vanity.

none of that mattered much;
until now--

When the unredeemed heart-parts of myself
reveal to me their dormancy:    left detached
from community  with one another--

  an internal community   necessary
  to withstand  the brilliant light    and glory
  brought down by those here who write as she does.

          but she;

    through her unfiltered heart-writes
    brings down the very magic and beauty and fullness of the
    relational dance of the godhead.

     And it's raw beauty is ****** slayin me.
I so want to block her  for the conflict she creates    in me  

                     .
      but I will  press on

and allow her supremely-smithed words--
(words not even written to me)
to have their beautiful way,

in

and through..
the help that has been all around me;
(each and every one of us)
waiting...  
             all along

   --as  if they were cleaning my soul,
      .. re-integrating my fragmented, heart-parts.



I'm the innocent bystander..
Somehow,  I got stuck
between a rock and a hard place
And I'm down on my luck
Yes..  I'm down on my luck

--And I'm hiding in Honduras:
I'm a desperate man
Send lawyers guns and money
the **** has hit the fan
https://youtu.be/wT9XlQi0yew?t=57

~The eternally beautiful, Warren Z
 161° 
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)
 151° 
michael cera
crooked rainbowed in your life,

i wasn't simple or easy,

but i found you,

and for once, you didnt need me.

but you stayed because you could,

loving things my soul should,

sharing wounds misunderstood.
 128° 
Tanya


Yesterday I cried to the moon
as she wiped my tears away
made my worries disappear
so I could sleep again.



Today I smile at the sun
and it shines back on me,
what a wonderful world
to be alive;
to be me.
 119° 
Karly Codr
stop stressing out
they say
you have nothing to worry about
they say
but do they know that i get
so stressed to the point of tears
that i have panic attacks
in the middle of the night
when no one is awake
and thoughts race through my mind
the answer is no
they don't know
and they never will
anyway i'm super tired and i worked all weekend but it's fine also fearless (taylor's version) is really good
 115° 
geraldine tilo
I've never felt so unloved
I've been abandoned, forgotten
Been set aside, disregarded
But never felt this unloved
My marriage seems to be not working out. Yet we're both still here.
 97° 
Amanda Kay Burke
You deserve much better
That is plain to see
I can't possibly imagine
What you see in me
You should be with someone capable
Of giving love and devotion
I am so ****** up inside
Numb to almost all emotion
You and I are different
Your heart is made of gold
While my own is solid as a rock
Impenetrable and cold
Why was I created this way?
Who have I become?
I barely recognize myself
Or remember where I'm from
Please don't get too attached
Because I am not made of glue
So just because you are stuck on me
Doesn't mean I will be too
Left all vulnerability behind
To deteriorate in the past
It's easier to remain indifferent
I've learned good things don't last
You can't sweep me off my feet
I've already been knocked to the ground
And I'll only drag you further down with me
The longer you stay around
Please don't give me presents
I am not worthy of the price
Somebody as ******* up as me
Shouldn't be with someone so nice
Please leave me for your own good
Before I rip your feelings apart
All my edges are sharp pieces of glass
If you get any closer I'll break your heart
Stay as far away from me as you can
 71° 
Grace E
I traced the texture of your words
Like my heart was blind
And your voice was braille
 70° 
solfang
she asked,
"what is the cause
of your endless sadness?";
and I answered,
"nothing unusual,
it's just inner madness"
went to therapy today; doctor said I'll need to have a few more sessions to resolve my problems. Have to increase my dosage as well.

just as I thought I was getting better.
 61° 
Erika
i spend my days
pouring myself into the cups of others

only to find that
when it’s time for myself
to take a sip

all that’s left
in my cup
is the remainder of a girl
who gave too much
self care is extremely important. most days I fight my depression by putting smiles onto others faces, but forgetting about my once bright smile.
 55° 
kmr
My entire life,
I have been waiting.
For years,
Almost two decades now
I have been waiting.
Waiting,
For the better parts.
Waiting,
For the “soon”.
Waiting,
For my life to begin.
Because,
I don’t feel like I have lived.
In the nearly twenty years
I have been alive
And breathing
I do not feel
In any of those years
That I have been alive.
I don’t feel like a single breath
That I have taken
Has been real.
I feel as if
All these years
I’ve been stuck
Behind a window
Watching as my life unfolds
Before me.
I feel that
I have had
Zero control.
That I am in the backseat
Letting someone else drive.
That someone else,
Is writing on the pages
Of MY life.
But no more.
I will break that window,
I will take that wheel,
And I will write
My own pages.
My life has begun,
And now -
I’m in control.
Yesterday, April 8th, was my birthday. I wrote this poem two years ago, when I was 19 almost 20, and on my 22nd birthday I find that the website selected it as a daily and I have all these wonderful people saying wonderful things about my poetry. Thank you Hello Poetry, and thank you everyone else. This was the best birthday present I could have even gotten. (04/09/2021)
 54° 
Ten Mercado
#2
you write
poetry on the
wind
and expect me
to read
2/7/18
 52° 
Brumous
I cannot speak, I cannot hear
I shall not feel, and I do not think;

For I am a stone,
that is better to be thrown away
I just don't know the problem; Maybe right now, I am too desperate to be liked by people and fill that void of my unknown desires


I hate it.
 46° 
SHREYA
when I die
do not burn me
or bury me inside the ground
instead cover me in ink
and surround me with papers

- a poet never dies
 45° 
Sophia
She was a thrifted sweater and denim and jersey knit sheets
Pizza breath and red wine and toothpaste
Alabaster skin and knotted hair and freckled shoulders
A tangible dream and my favorite good morning
She agreed to let me kiss her and I agreed to let her slip my shirt over my head before she became
Blood and tears
"I trusted you" and "I’m sorry"
Midnight poems and a drunk "I need you"
I’m afraid I loved you like the way I wrote
 43° 
KyleB
Sometimes I am naked
and look at myself.
My tan skin looks less brown than it looks grey
like ashes;
Perhaps it's grey like the burned cultures,
the damages traditions
and bombarded destinies.

When I put my dark hand
onto someone's fair skin
I see the ashes
and I'm reminded of histories we'll never get to cherish.
 42° 
Max
She said "I'm falling in love."

I said "I'm falling apart."
What's the difference?
 40° 
Chris
I'm sinking farther into the sea
Air cut off, unable to breathe

But it's not all too bad
The water's warm
and the fish look nice

It's a shame I can only see this
By myself
at the end.
Enjoy
 40° 
Jay
I know that I'm crazy.
I know that I'm not okay.
I now don't have a home
I have nowhere to be safe.

I want to cry,
I want to die,
I can't even try
My tears won't dry...
I've just been kicked out of my house.
 38° 
JD
do you think the stars ever gaze down on us with a look of admiration?
that despite everything we've done
everything we've been through
we're still here
gazing back up upon them
just like we did before
it's comforting
 35° 
Carlo C Gomez
~
There's trouble in Alphaville:

Caution in the taxi, "I am on a journey to the end of the night."

Remember to silence love when sneaking Sally thru the alley.

There's always one too many wives on the same wavelength.

Seeing is believing in the cold ultraviolet light of a long, warm lens.

And naturally "How to Teach Your Wife to Be a Widow" is all checked out at the local library.

~
 32° 
Unknown Girl
The roses have wilted, The violets are dead. The demons run circles, Round and round in my head. The parents are crying, Their kids keep on dying.
Because that's what modern society bred, And nothing was said.
 31° 
Fae
"At this point in time, I believe that women carry within ourselves the possibility for fusion of these two approaches as keystone for survival, and we come closest to this combination in our poetry. I speak here of poetry as the revelation or distillation of experience, not the sterile word play that, too often, the white fathers distorted the word poetry to mean — in order to cover their desperate wish for imagination without insight."
I'm just the messenger.
 31° 
lost cause
if i wrote my future
all would be changed
from the way i was raised
to the thoughts in my brain
if i wrote my future
no love would be lost
so i’d stand right beside you
no matter the cost
if i wrote my future
i’d bring nothing but peace
and save you from sorrow
and the darkness that creeps
if i wrote my future
you’d still be here
but you wrote my future
and i did nothing
but stare
 29° 
Martin Boško
Sitting in the dark
Wanting back what was stolen
Holding his heart tight
I lost your love...
I lost your kisses...
I lost your company...
Nothing makes sense right now...
The world seems black and white...
I get no joy in anything...
For without you there is no world...
There is emptiness...
I am better off living inside myself...
 26° 
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
All is vanity
The meanings of passion
The aesthetic expression
The lines we draw and stay within
Even love is beyond intent
Vanity transcends
Flowing from our pens
And so we breathe again
I still cringe when I meet someone with your name

Your name

Like the slowest poison
It never leaves me

Just slowly eats away

Ah your name

How I wish I could eradicate it from my soul
 25° 
Diana
You.
Are.
A.
Walking.
Masterpiece.
 24° 
Brendann
There are approximately 470,000 words in the English language

4 syllables in “Hey, How are you?”

9 letters in “Beautiful”

3 words in “I love you”

And still

I can’t find a single thing to say

When your smile accidentally makes my day.
Free Verse.
 23° 
allure
we are but the sand and the ocean.
you are the sand
warm, fine, comforting, golden
people always seem
to walk all over you,
but not me
for I am the ocean
deep, brave, pure, peaceful
and I try so hard to get to you
but every time I push myself
I always end up trickling back to where I belong
it's not fair
I want to belong to you

c.p
Check message
Facebook
Check message
Instagram
Check message
Send message
Wait
Check
Look;

When did relationships
Get defined
By a read receipt?
Will we
Now
Only measure intimacy
By a tweet?

What do we have left,
Why can’t we
Go back
To laughter
In a diner seat
 21° 
Rebecca
keeping quiet
seems to be what I'm best at.
while my thoughts are screaming
and my pen is moving furiously to let them escape.
my mouth does not betray my secrets
but my eyes are another story.
if you pay attention,
you may see everything.
the quiet can become the noise
to someone who might take a closer look
 20° 
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
 20° 
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.
 20° 
James Jarrett
Mrs. Gardener in her gloves

Silk and blue

Planting in love

For her children

Too poor to eat

Carrots and peas

Planted in peat

Cotton for clothes

And potatoes for stew

Poor Mrs. Gardener

Plants in rows

For the future

In her blue gloves
To my baby.May you garden forever
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