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The morning sun whispered to the streetlights to go to sleep..
The morning sun burned away the fog from the moons dreams..
The day has chased the night away..
The Foody One
I am floating
in an ocean of

Words -
solitary waves
occasionally passing by

my skinny mind
ever so gently,

I almost forget
I still
© 19/10/20
Riding at the heart of the sun
where the glow of the heat burns
shall we call it magic or a misery?
an amber embers of fierce fire
the untold rhythms that burns

Rising at the ether that freezes
a weft on the unseen hem
left to sway at the tapestry
exposed, uncooled at the rays
eroded on the ever spoilt earth

She came like a bright sunrise

spreading warm across my heart.

The colors of spring in her eyes,

a taste of summer like waves

of salt and sweat on her skin,

my love would endlessly swim

across oceans on her body.

caught in a conflict
one has my time
one has my attention

he has my heart
the other one has my affection

my heart is tied to both
but the strings are getting tangled

which one do I have a future with?
Ahmad Attr
Smokes and cigarettes
Big moustached and ashy lips
Fogging out their talks
Their political jargons
Some corrupted sons and their forefathers
All of them look the same
White, grey and black
Their throaty laughter
And continuous flaks
I feel overwhelmed here
Like being surrounded by chess pieces
A game where I don’t have any fun
I don’t belong here

But it’s on the other side of the red wall
Where colours run
The jewels jingle
And the clothes quiver in the air
Everything is so alive here
The crystals ,the clattering heels, the colognes,
The gossips, the gold and the grandeur
But I’ve been told
No to go there
I don’t belong there

So where do I belong?
Felix Hackberry
would leaves never fall,
if wind kept its blew?
cold winter leaf, hmm...
perhaps it hates colour blue,
i know we humans do,
cycle of leaves seems wiser,
they know to bury themselves,
when winter's due,
but aren't they arrogant!?
to go out in such style,
like chameleont parachuting,
seriously, who does that...
Sophia L
I love myself more.
Another dream about
That’s no surprise

Since you dominate
The world behind
My eyes
I can’t get you out of my head
East Wind
Collections of my disorderly thoughts
gathered together with knots
of my ample desire
to make sense of my everyday life.
I write poetry, however bad they might be, to help me analyze my feelings.
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)
"Hey, I worry that                    
music's our only shared thing."    
            "It's fine. That's enough"

       III                                        III
         III                                        III
           III                                        III
             III                                        III
               III                                        III
          IIIIIIIII                                IIIIIIIII
      IIIIIIIIIIIIIII                        IIIIIIIIIIIIIII
         IIIIIIIII                                 IIIIIIIII
             %                                     %
        %%%%.                        %%%%.
       % %  %  %   %                  % %  %  % %
      %      %%%     %             %     %%%     %
    %        %%%       %        %     %%%      %
  %        %%%          %   %         %%%      %
  %%%%            ♫           %%%
%%%%%                        %%%
%%%%%%                     %        %
%%%%%%%                 %           %
    %%%%%%%%             %                %
  %%%%%%%%             %                  %
we do not write poetry
we write mirrors
which are held up
to curious faces
who read
looking for their
own reflections
Debbie Lydon
I'm glad that I am here in the depths of this hurt,
I am reminded of my life, my very own life,
This weight that is heartache that I currently bear, I'm grateful to it and the changes it is making,
My face looks ever so different in this mirror, in this sorrow new strength, in these tears an elixir.
michael cera
where hate ain't between us,

and my soul stands still,

from a sad seat of rust.

where seas of time stand rough,

when skins aren't just weapons,

just to justify us.

i can't see you in moonlight,

but i'll catch you in the rain.

only spoken words can keep me sane.
You are my unsent message.
The cursor blinking rhythmically,
With my heartbeat,
For me to hit send.
But I am not ready,
And I’m not sure if I ever will be
So I left it like that.
Unsent. Unseen. Unread.
“I miss you.”
Warm lights on the walls
beaming through every window
soft as a bear's hug
lights my heart beneath my eyes
a sweet taste of golden hour
You messaged me today
I listened to what you had to say
My heart didn't hurt
You didn't try to flirt
You apologized to me
And said you'd like to see...
You'd like to see me and catch up
I said okay
I could talk to you today
Is this healing
Because I have no feeling
I have no feelings left for you
i wish i would've been alone yesterday
because i wouldn't have ran

i laughed
fight or flight, i guess

but i wasn't afraid to die
i would've let that kid catch me
just for some rest
Eyes are the window to the soul,

But what if,

You don't have one of those?
going home isn’t always
returning to a place.
it is returning to yourself.
You once asked me if I could ever describe you in four words, what they would be.
I finally figured it out.
"control c, control v"
i know letters aren't words but ohhhhh weelllll (:
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 ask you one thing:
ecstasy or misery -
which is prettier?
Hearsay, the more you forgive, the more they will love you. But every time you forgive them, you fall in love with them less and less. And the time they love you more than any other is very much the moment you decide to love them the least.
She said "I'm falling in love."

I said "I'm falling apart."
What's the difference?
fray narte
the dusk wastes its pity on me. in its muted retiring lights, i have learned a terrible habit of forcing poems out of my mouth,
when maybe all i wanna do is be as quiet as the wounds nesting inside my head.
I want to spin
Myself into a
Just to
Because without the storm, how would you know what calm is?
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.
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Time goes by
And I miss you

Just like me
The flowers grew
But soon they wilted
Just like you

You were sweet
This I knew
Like an addiction
I loved you

Now the roses are dead
The violets are too
The garden's all gone
And so are you

Your flowers died
I did too
Because all along
I was you
I wrote this a while ago when I had a crush on someone and it was literally crushing me. This is pretty metaphorical, but it also has a bit of literal meaning. It's a mixture of my feelings towards the person I liked and how I felt towards myself at the time.
i wish i was a soft girl
the ones you find in movies
with soft gentle voices,
with tears of honey,
and kindness that warms like golden sunshine
dewdrop flowers with ambrosial petals
blooming with unwavering patience and soft lips

instead i am just a girl
with too much love to give and a raspy voice
and i am angry
that i foolishly keep waiting
for someone or even maybe just me to lift the curtain
and see me
as a soft girl too
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
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.
memoona kazmi
i want to hug you the way,
winnie the pooh hugs the piglet
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
Dr Peter Lim
My love, as you lie on your bed
the first morning rose I'll pick--upon
your gentle hair to deck
ere the day's sunshine is gone
Mar Orellana
I know you won’t read this
and I know you won’t care
but I will tell you what it was like.

It was blurry.
it was slow
but time was running fast.
It was dusty feet
and dusty souls.
It was feeling nothing
and then all at once.
It was hating you
to drown the urge of hugging you.
It was writing a poem
and post it
wishing you will relate to it.

But who cares,
you don’t.
May 2017.
I wrote this instead of telling you, even though you were there, dancing next to me. And we were made out of poison, finding new ways to hurt each other.
Mitch Prax
Another Christmas
without you and it doesn't
become easier

6:45 PM
and if i never reach
the angels above the clouds
i am content
knowing their presence
blooms in my horizon.
city night life
May you persevere in matters of your heart
Immerse yourself in what you need to feel alive

May you press onwards even when you’d rather sink and

May you grow towards the sky just like the flowers you find that root themselves in the most precarious places but still manage to find the sun
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