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Wind through my hair,
Like water through a drain,
Running through life,
Running through the pain.
What is a dream and why is it there?
are they portents of doom for something unfair
do they predict things we cannot yet see
why are they so confusing to me
some of them tell me what I want to hear
and others just serve to fill me with fear
they're all such a jumble they just make no sense
but I hate when they leave me feeling so tense
then sometimes when I'm awake in my day
a flash of a dream pops by but won't stay
and I get that odd feeling of de ja vu
does that ever seem to happen to you?
I keep a dream journal right next to my bed
to record these odd things I dream in my head
sometimes I go back and read them to see
if there was a clue or some kind of key
but mostly I cannot make sense of it all
there are no psychics, 'cause it's all God's call
so I sleep soundly each night in my bed
and see what weird thing will pop into my head
It’s 4 in the morning
The sky is still dark
The air is thick
My lung give off a spark
My legs move with fury
And a smile grows on my face
As I run through the puddles
And show my true face

A run makes me happy
Yet it wears me down
It creates a tiredness
One I rarely felt
It lets me push my limits
Till my legs give out
When my knees hit the ground
And my heart rate jumps
That’s when I feel alive
When I feel like I’ve won

It’s 4 in the morning
And I’m out on a run
Cause at 4 in the morning
It so much more fun
Slightly Lovely
I rather get a text from you,
saying "I miss you"
then a text confessing
"I love you."
from anyone else.
Wala ba akong karapatan mapagod?
Rinig na rinig ko ang hiyaw ng aking kaluluwa
Gustong-gusto ko, pero hindi pwede

Dinadaan ko na lang sa tula ang kapaguran ko
Dinadaan ko na lang sa tula ang sakit
Dinadaan na lang sa biro at libog
Sa halakhak at ngiti
Sa mga sigawan at kwentuhan
Sa kalungkutan at panloloko sa sarili
Ito'y ang aking araw-araw

Kay sarap isipin
Kay sakit marinig
Pero sana'y makahiga, pikit, at idlip rin

At kahit minsan sana'y
Maramdaman ko ulit
Ang tunay na kapayapaan
sandra wyllie
for stars up in the sky
until I found that all the stars
are just reflections of my eyes

I was reaching out
to other people for help
until I found the only one
that could help me was myself

I was reaching out
for whatever I could
find. But whatever it was
wasn’t good enough, at least
not in my mind.

I was reaching out
to get high. But the high
could not be sustained. And I
realized that I was playing
a losing a game.

I was reaching out
until I learned to reach in.
That is only when true healing
will begin.
A poet is no more than a person
A mother
A daughter
A lover  
Someone needing release
Or someone needing to recover

It’s the art they create when that ball of ink or stick of led dances on the canvas they so perfectly prepared.
And when the end result and their purpose become perfectly paired.
i laugh at the irony
that love broke my heart.
Journey of Days
when it is quiet
deep quiet
what do you hear?
Cody Smith
Flaccid plastic soul
every ten or so
we replace our cells
Are we still ourselves?
Theseus' brain
Does it remain the same?
Questions, more or less, are in excess
Is less more or more is less?
Are we sand caught in a gust?
Or just wind gathering dust?
Ask me, I'll rebut;
I don't know, so what?
Just some rambling thing I wrote.
Noni Winters
I stumbled upon you
Like a child
that finds a pretty stone

Bewildered by your presence
I sat and admired
Counting your cracks
Caressing what makes you glitter

You stood infront of me
Bold and beautiful
Like nothing I'd ever seen

And as you gave me your attention
I think I misconstrued your intentions

I wanted to put you in my pocket
But you said no

So there you sit
Perfectly unpolished
A love

I can only visit
She takes the stand
With the voice of millions on her back
And speaks the fact that we all know,
far too well to be true -                  
                                           Me too.

She is heard but not believed,
She is heard with faith deceived .

When will it be enough -
Is one in six not enough ?
Is one sister, one friend
still - not enough?

one colleague, one mother, one wife, one lover -
one teacher, one doctor, one preacher, one author -
one husband, one son, one brother.
Which one will it take, to stop
the non-consensual clock
and make us realise that -

Time. Is. Up.
Close your eyes
Count to ten
Take a breath
Find a pen
Write it out
Let it loose
Don't get lost
In these woods
For one day
You might get stuck
Way too far
In the muck
Carlo C Gomez
You prefer to come
To me in the dark.
"You're more my temperature then,"
You once said.
I'm not much of a thermometer,
But I am the eurythmy
To each syllable you give
In such settled shadow.
A play of murmurs and fingertips
You once named this.
Always I see a wreath in your hair,
In colors of Persia,
Textures of night,
And the soft blended lines
Of you I know
Vespertine - occurring in the evening.
TW Rice
Some shed for guilt, some for pain but those that are shed now are only for the overwhelming joy. Streaming down my face crossing over my smile. Coming from the greatest joy caused by you. Your love for me causes this. It's the washing of the windows of the soul full of bliss. Foreverly I'll be sappy because of you, I've found love.

Dedicated to Special K
winds blowing
through your hair

age meddling with
your mellow skin

slithers of gray with
wrinkles of strifes

you dissolve into life

you're absorbed by the soil
and as simple as that you are

what was yesterday turmoil
is dead and cold and possibly
I'm jealous of the rain
It gets close to you
Closer than I ever will
It touches your skin
It combs your hair
It comes when you're sad
It stays when you're happy
I love you but you don't love me
So I say
I'm jealous of the rain
Sorry I haven't written anything as of late. I have been really busy with school. I really hope you enjoy.
Edit: thanks for the comments the original song is Jealous by Labirinth
I once was
in a hospital for depressed people
and I have never seen a place where roles
were switched
in such a paradoxal way.
Also the doc's final statement to me was: Well we think something must have just really made you insecure. Next time that happens, just do anything to distract yourself - clean the windows if necessary, just anything really!
This was such a symbolical statement. I think the doctors were much more scared inside than I was. I just stirred them up.
Don't ever hand over your own healing powers. You always have them.
My good friend thinks well of me.
I like it when she's around.
She has a heart that's caring,
Love in it there does abound.

There is an immense beauty,
That's found in my good friend's heart;
In my heart from that of hers,
Gently love it does impart.

Florists are known for roses,
And forget-me-nots of blue;
But these flowers can't excel,
My friend's heart that's gold and true.

I must be thought highly of,
My heart is touched by her love.
A M Ryder
So another for the writer
Another bottle all by myself
To soak my soul
And drench any dream or hope
Of a happy life
I might have had left
Colors streak blue skies
As the sun makes its descent
Towards the horizon
My thoughts and emotions are fractured;
my mind broken.
I know it's for the best
but I can't shake this feeling.
What is meant to be?
To follow my heart, mind, or soul?
One screams stay,
one screams let go
the last screams why.
Did we even try?
I want you to be happy;
I want to be happy.
Will I be with him and you with her?
Only time will tell.
“You’re not good enough”
Is the one sentence you should
Never tell yourself.
Hi. I’ve been struggling with this my whole life. It’s like I’ll never be able to convince myself. I feel like my poetry is at a decline. I feel as if nothing I write is good. I couldn’t tell you the amount of “drafts” &  private poems I have on here just because I’m afraid.
Afraid of ridicule.
Afraid of hating myself more.
Afraid of everything.
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 too *******.
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.
Jayantee Khare

the lives are changed but we are not
going back to college days didn't take a lot
revisiting the peppy past
the hue of heartwarming memories will surely last
eventually everyone evolved
all the boundaries duly dissolved
one thing about which none is sure
whether memories revisited or
what we created are more
everyone was in full swing
boundless were zest, zeal and zing
age reduced to 16 years
back seats were taken by inhibitions and fears
ear to ear were the smiles
the age was forgotten for a while
danced like a crazy till we drop
sang till the DJ is forced to stop
kids and family were aghast
first time they saw our this avtar
many new friendships were thrived
while the old ones are revived
many new connections were made
carried a freshness which will not fade
a congregation of old companions
the celebration of silver Jubilee reunion

Recently attended my college batch silver jubilee reunion, refreshing experience beyond mention..
Eldon Wangdee
That heartfelt laugh
Never heard before
That salty tears
Never ran down before ,
When it dropped into my droughty lips
The heart felt the pain in that laughter of misery like never before
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
I love you all!!

Welcome aboard newbies!!!

Who said Exclamation marks were merely laughing at your own joke?!

Actually my grand daughter gave me this poem!
i mean,

  let's be frank

you haven't
from me
  in a lifetime.

nor have
  i wanted
or wasted
   my moments
    in you!

i know
   what we are
and what
   we should do

  just put
more makeup
   on that pig...

but eventually,

  you too
will realize that
  no amount
of makeup
  can pretty
what is ugly.

'Yours and everyone's concrete-poet'
Because the earth’s round
Doesn’t mean it’s  having a ball.

Because waves crash
Doesn’t mean that they aren’t in control.

Because the sea is deep
Doesn’t mean that it’s thoughtful

Because land meets the sea
Doesn’t mean that they agree

Because you float my boat
Doesn’t make me the captain.
Five little ten worders to ponder.
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.
Caela Bay
Seven years is long enough
    to change everything about one's self.

New hair,
   New clothes,
   New friends.

Your favorite movie probably isn't even the same.
But I remember what it was half a decade ago,
               and it's still my favorite.

Your voice is deeper now,
your words arent as sweet.
I have no clue what has happened to you
in the past seven years.

But I won't get over the fact
that your eyes are still kind,
and I imagined marrying you one day.
I see you
I see me
Not being chosen
I see you having more fun
I see you walk by casuallly dismissing me
I see your lips with a dark shade of  maroon moving and not a single moment of silence
I see your  brown eyes not even glancing  towards me
I see the red-brown of your hair but they face me
I see your long silver earings dangling and shaking as you laugh
I see the golden bracelets in your hand  slide back as you tie your hair
I see you
I see me
                             All alone
When you are nothing more than a second choice
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.
S  S
P            T
O                    U
O                    C
L             K
N  I
A poem every day.
Make peace with never knowing,
make peace with never going,
to the places, you pledged your life to.
he called me by my middle name
“i love you liz”
that’s what he said
“i’m so lucky to have you liz”
i’m sorry liz
i’m sorry i’ve treated you so horribly
liz, liz, liz, liz, liz
now i hate my middle name
ting is
your           life
thro             ugh
a ne           edle
and         if
you sew
The Present
Is a gift
To unwrap
Not to ruin the paper
But to save it for later
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