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A to Z
i don't pay attention to the world slowly ending.
it has ended for me many times
and began again in morning.
Flying a plane?
How dare he.

He's in my lane,
I dare say.

That's unacceptable.
I refuse to believe.

Please don't harm me.
Just let me be.
Let me know what you think about poems that have no real connection to anything.
Left Foot Poet
as our letters age

my twenty six best friends gather round a winter fire,
a Valentine’s Day retreat from the bones internal chilly yellowing,
we’ve been together from the Day One beginning, a life of
commencing conception, deception, immaculate and messy mixing

practicing fumbling, making and breaking the conventional,
we arrange and rearrange our unique ordering, overlapping
with your version, cousin, so we communicate, but uniquely ours,
individualist letters, witnesses, markers, word~children, born, lost

soon seventy will come, and a party, a literary review to be held,
mourning the many, works uncompleted, toasting the few that satisfied,
acknowledging the collaboration of all the twenty six with
special guests,
an aging five senses
that were the kindling that the sparked them into action

oh my dear ones, my best friends, your knew me too well,
my best, worst,
my progeny, blood of my blood, voice of my guts,
consoling friends, who
brooked my self-deceptions, yet denounced them when
comforters of our mutual ashes buried in one casket,
our final poem, clutched, at last...
my alphabet of life...

Sat. Feb 22, 2020
you will be invited.
i want to hug the stars;
fall deep into a galaxy
of milky stones,
the darkness dusted
with powdered sugar.

i want to hug the stars;
feel the gentle touch
of starlight
brushing softly
against my skin.
all i did this morning
is plan how to get sleep at night
Bang! Did it ever?

As the noise strikes the main land
little creatures curl
and the light that's using darkness
it made an angel hurl

So be not,
So be it.

There is an existing parakeet
mind made but, it flew
within the dept of disorientations
within the shallow codes

Cruelty did vanished
chains and boxes too,
but the feeling of being caved in
a nightmare to run to.
Too long in the draft.
if they say a one-word poem,
i'll write your name...
Edward Dominic
Sit down
With your four wall surround
Pour a glass of wine
Cut your sightlines
And breathe
Tension leaves

In this city that fosters neither kindness nor pity
Bunker down and take solace in its anonymity

Time will reflect all that you went through
These lifetimes linger longer than they were meant to
Harald Pfeffer
Ah, if but life

Ah, if but life was simply a heroic line
A meter clean  and clear with no exceptions.
Then rules of prosody would set us free
From tyranny and fate and all the snakes
That whisper free will and substance in my ear.

Harald Edwin Pfeffer 22-2-2020
Jelisa Jeffery
When the fatigue of the tree festers
When the leaves weep
And side-sweep
And sap leaks of the arboraceous bole
The foul smell of dampened,
Fermenting flora
The bog
The muck
The moor
Forever grot and grunge
But never moans,
Never loathes the morning
Never curses the sun for rising
Or hexes the moon,
Or thinks life bleak or banished
It settled in its mold
The duty it was told,
It’s destined purpose
As a puddle upon plates of terrain,
A tamed stain, remaining unmoved
And unaffected by
You and I,
Unaffected by passerby’s
Translucent and still,
Entirely exposed and yet unseen
I remember the feeling of falling
I remember what the feeling of love was like
I remember the texture of his hands on me
I remember being old enough to understand I was transgender
I remember hating my body till I weighed 90 pounds
I remember crying until all my tear ducts had dried up
Cathy Devan
She hides behind the poems
That lay in her draft
Screaming to be published
Just publish the draft let them know you
my friends have better friends
my best friends have other bests
wonder if one day I'd mean as much to my friends as they mean to me
Mohammed Arafat
She is supposed to get to live to enjoy life
Her birth is in war
with no baby clothing available
but a blanket and a pillow

Her mother screams
higher than loud booms around
higher than the voices of politicians
It hurts to give birth during wars

She is in a tent
donated by good people
who don’t believe in war
but in love

Her little world is a war
The skies are dark and grey
and a lot stands in her way
not only this war

She joins her mother’s cries
wrapped with the grey blanket
Cries of rockets heard as well
emigrants from other tents cry too

Fear breaks into her tent
Smoke coming out of the tent
mixed with cries, screams, and wails
The tent shakes
The tent collapses

Her mattress is rubbles
Her blanket is ash
Her cries gone in vain
Just like humanity
Many babies don't expect to come to this life to start it in war, but they do.
Roses are Red
Blood is red
I saw a dead body
lying on the bed
The stench of Iron
Right in front of me
Smelled of beautiful ivory
i met you
as the leaves fell
and the sky turned grey

the world grew cold
as my heart turned warm

i missed you
as the leaves grew back
and the sky turned blue

the world grew warm
as my heart turned cold
Alya Adzkia
as much as you give
to other people
it won't be enough

you're not here
to please them

you're here
to please yourself

they don't own you
you own yourself

put faith in yourself
Look at my hands , tell me what do they speak . I know my eyes tell my soul , my words tell lies but my hands are you watching them?  They are nervous. Look at my hands full of pain , defeat, confusion , slavery and entrapment. My hands want to break free but wants to know what freedom is . Look at my hands but please don't hold them to tight ; they are to nervous to rest calming in yours. I know you want to put a ring on my hands but life is already so heavy on my hands.

Look at these hands , shaking cowardly as you approach them with a ring.
#pain #confusion #love #hurt #trust #poetry #calm #storm #alone
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
isabel mayaka
The angles
Of your body
Intrigue me so
I want to solve you

I want you
To write
On my arms
My legs

My back
My face
With your lips
Make me your journal

When we
Wake the next day
I no longer want
To be me

When we
Wake the next day
I want to be
Your idea
Love's only weakness
Is also its greatest strength:
It defies reason

My thoughts on Valentine’s Day
They will tell you
All poetry has been written
There is nothing new
Under the moon
But let me tell you
They don’t know you
You are as unique
As the DNA that exists
Within your frame
The ripples on your thumbprint
No one ever had the same.


You have something to say
Say it proudly
Say it boldly
Never let them scold you.

Never let them make you go away.
I love it when someone tells me to keep writing. You should keep writing too!
Donall Dempsey

I like to say
your name

when you're
not here

turn you
into sound

conjure you out of
thin air

so that you appear
before me

dressed in sound

memory sketching in
the rest of you

as if sound
was just an outline

and love
colours you in

adding the voice last
so I can hear you say.

"Hello you..!"
and there you are

as present
as present

can be.

I like to say
your name

when you're
not there.
Qualyxian Quest
Today a little shelter from the storm
beaming, beaming, beaming

Inside the library nice and warm
scheming, scheming, scheming

I watch and wait; I watch and wonder
When to press the attack?

Silence is as silence does
Patience to fight back

I read and prepare for battle
(we eat a little bit too)

The question is - Before we die
What then must we do?
moon child
"I'm an open book"
She says

Written in
Anonymous Freak
I used to walk
Down the street
With a smile on my face,
When I was young,
And foolish.
When the world
Felt safe.
This disease struck me
Like a brick on pavement

Everything was
Then that brick came along
And with the slightest movement
Destroyed everything

“Count it
Perfect it
Measure it
Clean it”
The voices say

Why can’t I let them go?
They keep repeating:

“Count it
Perfect it
Measure it
Clean it”
Why won’t they stop

“Count it
Perfect it
Measure it
Clean it”
I don’t understand

“Count it
Perfect it
Measure it
Clean it”
Someone just HELP me understand

This disease is about
But it's the biggest
Imperfection about me
ok okay
So many people focus on finding love
I'm too busy finding myself
Jena Tapia
A place time forgot
There are no clocks
Blinking and flashing lights abound
The exits are confusing signs
When outside it's no better
The heat will push you inside
In winter the promise of warmth will draw you away
It's never day or night
It's 24/7 all the time
You can risk and play
Or dine on delicacies from far away
A little money can buy you anything
In this land of many things
For every desire and disgrace
Come one come all
To our desert place.
Though I know this place well after a recent visit I saw how much Las Vegas has in common with the mythical island of the Lotus Eaters.
thank you
for the
that no
are they**
than my voice.
**anything/anyone trying to tear me down, whether mentally or situational

!!Don't forget to get out to those polls!!
Change is coming.
Oh my Prosperity,
Oh my Serendipity.
Oh my Destiny,
Oh my Honey,
Oh my Austerity,
Oh mother of my Posterity,
Where are you?
My HP Poem #1831
©Atul Kaushal
And when you left
I overwatered all your flowers
she is a happy ending,
not everyone can wait for.
You don't know
why the dog is
afraid of you:
I do.
You don't like the fear? Do something about it.
I can feel the colors
Of my veggie straws at lunch

I feel the gray over the green
As my mouth is full of salt
Ugo Victor
Dear HP,

This is not a poem
But a question
The answer to which
I do hope you have

Why does my lover claim to love me
But still looks for every opportunity
To let me go?

Is it that she loves me so much
But doesn't think she's worthy of me

Or she doesn't love me enough
To think I'm worthy of her?
Oscar Valdez
My eyes saw her today
A poem written by nature's own hand
Painted with detailed description of the meaning of beauty
Beautiful like art
She knows not the limits of the power of her smile
So captivating it makes the sky happy, the earth warm, the roses blush, and the stars beam with jealousy
And her sent lingers in the air as I breathe her in...
She will be mine
unholy ghost
the irony in loving
cold hearts is
one day becoming
the cold heart that is
i'm sorry
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