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Zack Ripley
They say "time flies when you're having fun." But I don't remember having any fun.
And I know I'm not the only one.
I remember working. Fighting about money. But, for the life of me, I don't remember my kid being much bigger than a bunny.
I remember being stressed in great detail.
I even remember daydreaming
about getting a boat and sailing away.
But of all the things I wish I could remember,
I wish I knew where the time had gone.
Where my life had gone.
As I recall you didn’t want me anymore
We argued all the time
Your rebuke being my move on
I responded with I will get along
There was no love only cheating on both sides
Get out, you can’t reside
Commitment has no meaning
It was simply lies
I am not a light switch being on and off
When you stepped out
Your cheating was known all about
From sunset to sundown you were nowhere to be found
I now have peace and tranquil
I have no tears
I don’t want you ever to come near
I am able to move on
My heart being a locked secure door
You are a person I will always ignore
You only want to put me down
But I am not falling to the ground
You are long distance by my standards
I have a totally different approach
My words are no joke
You say you want, but really didn’t need
My life now is focused on me to continue to proceed
No further need
Goodbye now forever
through the eye of the needle
climactic storm.
Love rules
not just a stickler for vroom
home for life
not just a closet
My words are my thoughts,
some ,
Some felt,
and others undeserved.
My heart and mind,
my love and my hate.

All once yours,
are now just my words.
It’s all I have left of you.
Don't you think he would know better;
Disappears for a while;
Hums with afterburn
Upon return;
Her, older and married;
Him, youthful and dense;
Yet she continues to bait;
He continues to travel;
As it all unravels.
Cursed with longing
That's just deception.
Unreal in the real.
Only good in the steal.
Create a Magic Forest and
Walk through it, treading lightly and
Beset upon by fireflies —
In the dark, the blessed dark
I still miss my illusions, but
Thankfully I’ve identified
Yet another of the lies that
I’ve been telling myself
About us

The splendor of the whiteness that
Exists in the dark blue of night
In the clouds
The way they carry long-gone light
Somehow, these illusions teach us
To be grateful for existence
This can sometimes offer the necessary consolation

See those lies — you know the ones
It feels like righteous indignation —
You can’t help but recognize it, it’s
A very high horse
Very high indeed
I have long felt so lost about all this, so
Unwilling to take responsibility
For the chaos I created
In the past

A tiny bit or a lot, give what I need
I keep forgetting that, too
Forgetting to be humble — and lest
Anyone worry
Regarding the object of my humility
I haven’t capitulated in the least
I am humble before Creation
Not a man

In your eyes because I know them,
And you, I know you, it’s just
That I’m afraid of you, yes
That I’m afraid of you is hard to admit
Because sticks and stones, right?
You only ever use words
You love babies, and our baby, and me
You insist the sun shines out of my ***, even, but I don’t have faith
So I barely try
Because I’m afraid!
Of one cutting word
Just one
I don’t need faith in you, darling and
Love of my life
******* soul mate I would never, ever get over, no ******* way, no matter how much I hate you sometimes and I even tell you that but it doesn’t matter it’s still hard
To shine means I have faith in me
Loving you beyond my fear
Requires that I glow

*I seek strength not to be greater than my Beloved, but to fight my greatest enemy, myself
j a connor
He who
Michelle Lauren
I could not save you from the fire inside yourself.
I was fuel to the flames.
Was I fascinated or petrified by the scars you wore?
You brightened and burned
In a single breath.
You have always been an illuminating inferno.
I cannot help that I was drawn to your warmth.
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)
Stephen S
613 200 Hours
25 550 Days
13 Cars
11 Jobs
9 Dogs
6 Surgeries
5 Children
4 Grandchildren
3 Marriages
2 Siblings
1 Weary soul.
No regrets.
I don’t want to
Open my mouth
Because I’m still afraid
The truth might come out
And if it does
If it really breaks free
You’ll see what I am
You’ll see the true me
The one I hide
With jokes and lies
I’m a terrible person
All jokes aside
You don’t seem to know it
You don’t seem to see
Even a glimpse of that person
That I know to be me
I’m such a good actress
I hide it so well
Cover it with a laugh
And you’ll never tell
You see depth in my eyes
You see love and emotion
But what would you see
If I ever did open
I can’t bear to find out
I can’t bear to show
The me you don’t see
The me that I know
If I let it out
If I let it be
I know for a fact
That you would hate me.
To finish your own life by hand,
May seem like the right thing to do.
But to free yourself from this land,
Is to imprison those that love you.
there's only incomprehension--

as even a Word given

reads like alphabetical order.

to watch its letters burnt

down for poetry.

end to end, as words having

received Word--leap from

the windows of a blue castle.

which mean as they fall for.
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 adore cold weather.
But not for the fires,
Or the warmth of another person.
I find something beautiful about it,
And maybe even a bit lonely.
It reminds me of bittersweet loss,
And finding the strength to move on.
So many poems
and stories
have gone unwritten
due to fear of not being good enough
Why are all the good things scary
You'd think that flying would be breathtaking and exhilarating
All I can think about
Is how close I am to falling
It's suffocating
I really, really feel like I'm watching my own life instead of living it. I'm not supposed to have days like that anymore.

**** the government.
Those sweet white lies
offered a feeling so nice
I drowned, I cannot rise,
and pain was the prize.
She said "I'm falling in love."

I said "I'm falling apart."
What's the difference?
Murad Husain
As we grow old
We tend to lose gravity
We lose filthy distructions
and all the auxiliary desires.
We lose audacity & grudge
that we held for so long.

We feel much lighter
Like a flying feather of a seagull
Like a flowing fountain
Floating clouds
Splendid rainbows
Warming sunshine
And like a free soul.

As we grow old
And let things go
We feel like getting out of our cages
into the world of selflessness,
As we grow old
We only become young.
Betthia Mae
I saw you
Through the screen
On that second
Why did I think
It was meant to be

Now read from bottom to top.
we can't go back
to where we were
but please know
that silence carries
happy memories and
wishful dreams
for a life i want to share ...
even when i say
nothing at all
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.
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

No matter who you are
You have my deepest respect!

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
More Love
People are people.
And life is hard.
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
David Adamson
I met a woman
brutal in her mercy.

Her embrace was a clinch
to prevent hard blows.
She pulled me close to push me away.
Seeing my nakedness
she leant me a dream
of chainmail and shield.
Taking love from me she gave a reprieve
to a mind resigned to the slow death of feeling.

Ignoring my words she heard
my faint silent heartbeat and
understood that it was music
too quiet for the world to hear
and turned it up louder
than I could stand.
I wept in my deafness
as she danced.
i guess it's time to finally let him go
gotta choose some self-pride
Beckie Davies
There were people in every room
Inthe hallway
In the street
There was no where safe
No escape
No secret harbour
Eventually he found an alleyway
Wonderfully empty
Until he noticed the human canvas
Sitting crosslegged in the corner
That's the day he painted his first masterpiece
Thats the day that he met me
tells me that I’m alive
Sunset reminds me
that I lived
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.
This is a world
And it's not cold
It is warm and gentle

And I have so many friends
And I fell in love with Todd again
My family is nice and we all love

I am faithful and I love myself
I am a thankful optimist
And I have a drive everyday
A will to go through all of it

In my fake life
fantasy is better than reality
i dont feel any pain in my fantasies
i only feel happy and satisfied
reality is suffering
I write because it literally saved my life ...

I found myself in a dark place where the light never seemed to exist
A place where I was convinced I couldn't escape from

I write because that's when I actually feel understood

Writing feels better than just hearing "I'm sorry ", "I wish I could help" or just getting that blank stare they give you when they are trying to care

I write because this is how I understood myself finally
Summer goes her way
breathes through all living things

and we breathe with her
one breath at a time
between you and me,
i'm still rooting for us.

maybe not in this lifetime,
but in the end.
© d.a.dens
Perfectionism is
solely imperfect
We can't change
what is meant to be
This dimension's truly
a synchronized mess
& we're confused
to the worst degree.
Neither appearance
nor soul
will adhere to the role,
or that ideally flawless pitch
you've got ready in your head-
the stereotypical switch
that you subconciously await
the time you achieve perfection
-won't be met until you're dead.
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.
keep your eyes closed love.

           e     t      
       m           i
    o                 m
s                        e  
                            s     all you have to
                                                                ­ l                  is to 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.
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