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stefan badham
I am going to be sick
If you don't let go
of my aching ****
Noah Rein
Our lungs are burning,
Filling with ash,
Burning with greed,
All done for cash.

I think the time has come,
We have to be rash,
Or else we’ll watch as we burn,
And be gone in a flash.

It’s time to get angry,
There’s only one solution,
Let’s yell and take action,
It’s time for a revolution.
Prerna Sinha
And one fine day,
I saw her departing.
She stood still and calm,
My love that had no life.
In my errands to find her,
And give her life.
Tried to reinstate love in her,
Missed the warmth of her arms.
And love pouring from her words,
Lied meaningless before me.
My head on the coffin of her,
And hopes of her being immortal.
That she would wake up,
To kiss me alive.
She was mortal,
But was so was her love?
This is a poem I dedicate to my Grandma, who left for heavenly abode 4 years back. She is alive in me, and she has taught me the most powerful lesson of life 'Love, and when you love, love unconditionally'.
come back, please.
i miss you so much.
and i miss the me around you.
I love her.
"Are you okay?"

                           I'm always hurt,
                          Always in pain,
                          Every inch of my being
                          An­d if you could fathom the
                         chaos in my head,
                         So monsterous that I pray you
                        never come to understand it.

                        Every moment of every day my
                        soul cries,
                       And if you looked into my eyes
                       you'd see it all...
                       Everything I hide behind a smile.

"Yeah, I'm fine."
Kate Copeland
I'm so I'm drinking coffee
I'm dreaming of I'm flying to NYC
I'm so into will avoid all texts and terraces

Wanting to stay yet not willing to go,
thus staying when needing to scoot

Inescapably too many questions and ideas
Irreversibly too many given facts of lives

When there's a queue one has
to wait, feel free to fill in the rest
brains and minds solved
not easy to be
not easy to let be
so i rise
so i act
so i speak
so i write
so let it be
in the rising
in the acting
in the speaking
in the writing
Amarys Dejai
But you will soon leave back to the place you have been longing for.
And when you get there, another woman will find her way into your veins. She will pull my hairs out from your carpet, wash my fingerprints from your walls, and throw out my skeleton that you kept in the closet. She will try to lay me to rest, but I will always be restless. I will be doomed to haunt a heart that never belonged to me and to linger in the moment when our eyes first met.
I cannot go back to the place I have been longing for.
Last night, I dreamt about him. In my dream, he told me that he loved me, we kissed, we touched. I woke alone, heartbroken, but also a bit relieved. He’s moving away, and it’s time for us to bury out love. A part of me still believes that we just met at the wrong time.
You can’t tape leaves back to trees to make the seasons stop
Sometimes all you can do is watch
mercy party
you run when you don't feel like you are much worth catching
kiran goswami
We search for better stories
while writing about how our's is the best.
Stephanie Grace
Solitude summoned me into it's lonely arms once again
and I told you
I'll be right back
but mama,
i m all bruised
black and blue
not only from outside
but inside too.
hey friend,

remember, when the wound
was more fresh
than the in-season blood-red
fruit wet on my flesh

it’s five fifty-two
and i’m here
where the sky’s blue
is premature
and the moon’s gone
too soon
stuck with jail cells
for brain cells

with and without you.
A Freedom
'disremembered recordings,
footings undeveloped,
dissolved its gravitational splash,
into a void enveloped.'
vanessa ann
i am becoming the girl i've always wanted to be
Presently, l dream of a sea
An island probably
Not lonely
But solely for the two of us...
Only an island it seems
And a dream it is
J J Fitzpatrick
I contemplate
the inevitability of
                          Over the course of a
As Otis Redding plays.
                         I should really stop smoking...
My last cigarette and my last poem for a while.
Nat Lipstadt
The Deepest Twist

for my friends who know that when HP says this my 1300th
poem, it’s off the mark by hundreds; nonetheless
1300 is worthy number to celebrate your affections

you return back my older children, fully grown,
my eldest word babies who never ever visit,
blessing them anew, lavishly, with special wishes

take them,
with both hands, a reacquainting occurs,
the old words, deep twist, now hurtful hurt because
reimagining when and how easy they came to be birthed and
how the replication of that process is now a
practiced impossibility

how they burst forth, in purple majesty, wheat waving,
wholly formed, bathed in holy water, leaving no stretch marks,
only just an empty sac inside instantly needing,
needling me into auto-refilling right away

even the twenty four hour, hard deliveries,
long and arduous, were so easy created faust-fast,
that the errors of typography contained,
became lasting hall marks, iconic nomenclatures of
passionate loving-nonpareil

now, well past point of urgent addiction,
unlike then every glance, each sidewalk cracking,
lamppost shadow casting was
a sea story for a deep dive delving asap

supplied answers for the internal badgering incessant
happy ****** need, mine, to go, spill the words,
cab or bus motion nursing them,
now they come slowly strolling,
semi-formed, needy, inconclusive, reused,
and feeling as trite as a cloth coat from an old thrift shop,
so wanting for tender loving care,
which is to provide when you are
four score

wondering how easy it was in prior times when inspiration
fell like a deciduous tree’s fall colorings gifts or
as little children’s nightly multitude variety of dream tales,
when whole worlds uncovered, nay, universes,
hidden between summers green grass blades,
or in unique snowflakes

the semi-forgot love affairs that parented poems
by the score of scarred orchestral scores,
now love circle-turn in holding patters in the
crowded skies above nyc,
awaiting for a trafficked man to give permissions
to “run-away”land that rarely is granted

once, poems in turbulent fluid born, noisy ripping of skin,
****** by the emitting of  constant calming tenderous words,
wonderful drippings, so many multiple births in a moment,
even the OBGYN is complaining,

give other poets a chance at parenthood!

the awesome anger of human tragedy is now so shopworn
from over experience,
even god visits less and less, for it is written,
nothing new under the sun*

though soon his annual visitors day approaches (Day of Atonement) and god will require new
words of human comforting,
a new poem acknowledging that being godlike
is ******* hard work,
for humans are annoyingly capable of incredulous kindness

how can one justify allowing unlacing acts of insane violence to tear
the hand stitched lacing fabric that’s ever ready
to bring us together in an instant elegiac joining

the truth is every one of todays poem are clawed,
shovel dug out from cavities and crevasses,
your new words of recognition of the oldies but goodies,
iron of irony, make it hard, hard, painful to write
without an epidural to numb the painful
dumbing down

when I am breaching my waters, I am hard to spot,
we ancient humpbacks live beneath the deep distanced,
cold waters for many more minutes
than we need surface for breathing,
the show-off fluking, less and less,
and when we birth,
every two years,
must bring the calf-poem to the surface instantly,
to breath, lest it die,
all the while repeating to ourselves:

what was miraculous writing is now nearly invisible,
to blinded fingers that arrhythmically cane tap,
words difficult to recall, recalculate, recalibrate
into a wholly poem

only the **** tears,
that same shameful violin permanent-accompaniment,
they laugh at me when now, they alone
come first quickest, all too easy,

appearing nataurally,

without a formal
“He says, "Son, can you play me a memory
I'm not really sure how it goes
But it's sad and it's sweet and I knew it complete
When I wore a younger man's clothes"

Sing us a song, you're the piano man
Sing us a song tonight
Well, we're all in the mood for a melody
And you've got us feelin' alright”
You're my favorite kind of thief,
stealing my heart,
but letting me be.
Lyda M Sourne
And I tried to fit in
Cutting away the edges of me
Hoping to be part of the picture

I tried to fit in
Closing my eyes
Covering my ears
Sealing my lips

To the sins of yours
To the sins of mine
Trying to be part of the picture

But I could not fit in
In this puzzle edge
With a straight back and a crooked front

I wasn't meant to fit in the picture

I was meant to be a picture
In a gallery called life

I was not a puzzle piece
I was not in pieces

I was and am a picture
In this gallery called life
I've tried fitting in for the past three years. That didn't work out. I was never one for fitting in.
Mind of a mother directs her to the heart .
Heart of a mother filled with pure and unconditional love.
Love of a mother never ceases .

© Mrunalini .D.Nimbalkar
#24/08/2019#  simple #Stanza# poem# just a passing thought #scribbled #
WL Schuett
She is a hive full of
But , never far from
the sting .

“I see you “ she smiles
as she touches my face .

Upstairs she lies
with coverlets and curtains.

I am searching
and searching.
But , for what
I’m not sure .

Maybe diamonds
but probably
Fireflies and Lace .

Working towards not
losing my shadow.

My inertia’s held
to her beauty
my moral vision
called and questioned.
The death of leaves ,
stranded on the high wire
in the back of beyond.
Just  take a breath, love
Fill your lungs up.

Rest your head,
there's no sense in losing sleep.

You can break down,
Let  your worst out.

Lose your temper,
but you're not losing me.
I don't believe in soul mates
What I do believe in
Is people that connect
On some deeper level
Immediately upon acquaintance
And not meaning you agree
On where to eat for dinner
But the connection where your heart
Seems to slip out
Of your rib cage
Because it's found a home
Outside of your chest.
Did you know that the Challenger Deep
Goes 35,814 feet down?
It's the deepest part of the ocean.
My heart from top to bottom,
Is a mere five inches…
But I swear my love for you
Is 35,814 feet
And infinitely deeper.
sandra wyllie
I’m not satirical or political
So, I don’t belong in the New Yorker
I’m not all gossip
So, I don’t belong in the National Enquirer
I’m not famous
So, I don’t belong in People
I’m not newsworthy
So, I don’t belong in Time
I’m bare-bones
So, Set me up in *******
I promise not to disappoint you
through all my curves and lines
Wynter Simion
I woke up in thought.
Why I'm I here?
What I'm I suppose to do?

So many unanswered questions,
but I'll figure it out.
Might be tomorrow
or it could be decades.

But I'll figure it out,
so will everyone else.
You promised a new world
a new place to start over
instead you left me in this abyss
where each night's
a lot colder
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.
Leo Janowick
If a writer
Falls in love with you
       you can never
F A Pacelli
if you don’t play
by their rules
you can’t lose
at their game
My pain, my misery, they fall from the sky
I try to ignore it, but it still gets by.
memories of what could have been,
The hatred screams under my skin.
pulsing through my veins is the anger I feel.
Wounds break open as soon as they seal.
Darkness surrounds me with every step I take.
I manage a smile that i wish wasn't fake
I laugh when people talk to me,
but alone i wonder what they see...?
i promise i'm fine, i am the same
Cuz i know they all have me to blame.
I know the truth, but it's locked in my heart,
And now it's slowly tearing me apart.
walking alone, roaming the halls.
laughing girls, suffocating walls
pierced through my skin, the terror of home
i guess that i'm finally...all alone.
if you dont get the last two lines its fine...but please dont ask.
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.
change is inevitable,

but what if i want to change everything abiut myself

why is it such a hard task?

to change my personality would be best for everyone

my bad qualities gone,
shifted into someone others deserve to be around
ba  d
You make me so cranky
So angry
And that's so handy
To stand here and tell
You farewell
And set forth to find
My own peace of mind
Still in this mood I just can't stop
Hello Daisies
Hey darling,
Not sure if I ever told you
You know I'm afriad of being bold
But you should definitely know

I've never trusted anyone fully
Never let myself go completely
I don't beleive in any of the mushy gooey

But you, I guess you got me
I'm afraid to let it take control
When I do it's never wrong
You're where I belong

From swinging at night
To playing tic tac toe
Dressing you in clothes
Telling secrets no one else knows

You're my best friend
Always have been from the beginning
It's not that I don't love others
You're just so special to me
Closer then my sister and brothers

Sadness. Anxiety. Anger
A flurry of emotions crosses your mind
You brick up a wall
You feint surprise
Your smile is fake
But one day
It will all come crashing down
Water floods
The dam breaks
And your heartthrobs
By the sound of an arrow puncturing the skin
The feeling of your mother's hand losing warmth
The sight of a cat bleeding out on the street
The memory of your dad calling your name
Slowly, one by one they go
Until you're finally left
With the words "I have something to tell you."
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.
her heart was filled with rocks
stones of many kinds
a heart so very heavy
she was running out of time
she needed his love
she needed it now
her heart was so heavy
it weighed her down
it hurt to walk
it hurt to breathe
she still had
things to see
she loved his eyes
and his lovely dark hair
whenever she saw him
she couldn't help but stare
her lips ached
they ached for him
a taste of his love
a taste of his skin
she was so weighed down
she knew she'd drown
in pretty blue eyes
and locks of dark brown
she couldn't help
but obsess over him
such little time
lights growing dim
i need you
he means too much to me
My mental health is like a rubber band.
If you pull it too far, it will get tight.
Until you pull it to hard.
definitely not one of my best
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