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 1298° 
Aymeric
I am empty.
And I don’t mean it metaphorically,
or poetically,
or romantically,
or in any other way you like to dress it up.

I am empty.
Straight up.

Unreciprocated love took everything.
And there’s nothing left.
**** in boots
 1134° 
Clay Micallef
I have my
half written poems
I have this blue window
to look through
when I’m lonely
I ignore its
invitation
I sit on this bed
like it’s the edge
of the world
the white sheets
sleep behind me
like restless angels
I scribble words
I call it poetry
I write the word
love in black ink
and the walls
become irritable
deep blue shadows
swallow my room
of souvenirs
I want to hear the
sound of violins
I want to hear the
sadness in your voice
become clear
I need a pleasant dream
I need something solid
to lean upon
I need something to
sooth these
shaking hands …
Clay.M
 927° 
Carlo C Gomez
~
Salvation comes with a price--

Pried open doors,
choir songs of fingerdust
resurrecting goldrush,
and a pretty little
cromulent called whitewash.

New century martyrs
have risen up to burn books,
and quotes,
and tongues,
and every contrariwise thought,
--is this intuition or inquisition?

What ascends is trapped within
tenebrific clouds,
returning to barren ground
when it rains unholy prayers.

They don't crusade for you or me.
They contest for dominion and mastery.
Those who believe are mooncalf.

This torchlight of intolerance
sends out skyrockets,
and away it goes!
trending on your homepage:

Past generations
burning at the stake,
at the hands of sinners clothed as saints,
in cathedral oblivion,
dismembering their future
in the blood of their own children.

Amen?

~
 838° 
Kate
This is the moment when you left
And the moment i knew you would never come back

It was the sight of watching a loved one go away on a trip
When you are young you wonder why you can't go with them
But they have to go any way for work, family, or death

It was the sound of your favorite song being paused halfway through
But you cant ever turn it back on

Worst of all it was the feeling of losing a piece of myself
I search everywhere to find

I try to fill the void
I try to forgot your voice

But I know what you were
And I wonder what you could be

Now you are probably looking down
Saying don't cry about me
I made it to the heavens
And I'll always have you with me

I'll always have you in my mind
In my heart
And in my pocket at the least

The streets are golden
The people are kind
And there's a spot next to me
Waiting for you to arrive
 682° 
Scarlet McCall
I've noticed a lot of Right/Left dichotomy on this site. What's happening in the U.S.A. right now has nothing to do with Republicans and Democrats, liberals v. conservatives etc. What's happening right now is an attempted destruction of the system of government of the U.S.A. a/k/a our Constitution. Our system of government is based on the Separation of Powers, which you hopefully learned about in high school. The purpose of which was to prevent a dictatorship. Trump is trying to overrule Congress and appropriate the powers given to Congress by the Constitution, such as  the power to appropriate funds. The only barrier between our democracy and a dictatorship remains the Judicial branch. It remains to be seen if the Judicial branch will put a check on Trump's power; if not, it's all over for American democracy.

Who and what is Trump? I'm a licensed psychotherapist with more than 30 years of experience, and spent 30 years in New York City, as Trump's neighbor. Trump is a sociopath. This is clearly seen in his value system, in which power and "winning" is the only virtue, and losers deserve whatever horrors happen to them. Remember what he said about military service people who lost their lives defending the U.S.A--that they were "losers" because they were killed. He is in love with Musk because as the world's richest man, Musk is the ultimate "winner." There is no morality or community obligation in this mindset; winners take all, losers can be treated as food or as garbage. Trump does have an ideology, which is somewhat uncommon among sociopaths--he's a racist. He isn't "anti-immigrant;" he loves immigrants who are white, such as Musk, Melania. He cut USAID because he wants to **** black and brown people. Trust me, all New Yorkers have known for a long time about Trump's racism; he was famous for it in New York.

Trump is gutting the federal bureaucracies as part of the type of purge that all dictators engage in early in their dictatorships. He wants total control and to perhaps give jobs to his supporters. The long-running paranoid conspiracy theory about a "Deep State" has groomed the American public into thinking this purge is a good idea. The civil service is actually a bunch of professionals and workers who have been doing their jobs for a long time and have expertise. They only implement the laws and regulations that Congress passes or that the President orders. Without civil service workers, an large array of government services will cease to exist or will be done incompetently by Trump's political appointees. These include processing and mailing Social Security checks to the elderly and disabled, regulating the sale and marketing of medicines and consumer products, and collecting intelligence overseas about our enemies (yes, we have enemies). The enemies of the U.S. are chortling and licking their lips.

I don't know how it will end. If things get really bad, I'll take my inheritance and perhaps flee to Scandinavia. The rest of you will have to fight or resign yourselves to living in something that will resemble Putin's Russia.
 615° 
kel
smitten
by your face that looks like a kitten
written
poems that makes me feel beaten
rotten
thinking about you often
bitten
on the heart, so listen
sweeten
my life like it's slitten

a poem of ten
dedicated for you like a mitten
on cold days
 491° 
Y
Sometimes, it feels like we are meant to be
Like your fate is written in our destiny.
My love will finally set you free.
So why can't you see, how much you need me?
(10 Feb 2025)
 454° 
Wasil
Sound of knocking,
an invitation to stay.
My dear guest,
waiting unannounced.

Today,
I shall open the door.
Warm breeze
Or chilly wind.
Tomorrow,
I shall find out.
 441° 
Qualyxian Quest
I can't find what I'm looking for
Still unsatisfied
American politics is hideous
George W. Lied

Maybe the Gulf of Mexico
Cannot be denied
I wish she would say:
He was one who tried.
 352° 
Xander Holden
Something doesn't feel right
And I wonder if I have time
 325° 
Shadowfang
Last night I was in pain
I cut my crushes' name onto my stomach
I tried hanging myself
on 2/11/25
and my friend reported me
to the administrators
and I tried the lifeline
they couldn't help
 308° 
Mina
The sun is drowning
And the day finally cease
And as the light falls
The night takes from me another piece
But it's ok
What's better than getting close
To the end I always chose
and it's not... getting to Greece
It's ok
the day goes
And i don't care if i overdose
At least i enjoyed it
At least I'm at peace
lol I'm so funny.. sigh...
 299° 
silent echo
I used to bring her
red roses,
until
the day I brought her
white lilies.
 296° 
Archer
Shards of metal make one
Crashing horns make fun
But spinning out of control makes none
 262° 
bulletcookie
As a rusty nail is pulled from this old board
to recycle wood once more,
you have given me another pallet

-cec
All characters in this scenario are fictitious and names changed to protect the innocent
 227° 
Thy
so close, souls nearly collide
a stranger wearing the same face  
of the one I once knew
searching, searching, desperately searching through it's eyes
with a heavy heart, I walk away
with the ache of knowing
whatever I was searching for
was long gone ago
what else could I do, perhaps it's bittersweet. that we learn something from each person that crosses our path.
 225° 
Azara
The night was veiled in silken mist, where moonlight bled like lips once kissed. A ghostly pearl in shadows spun, a silent watcher, pale and numb.

Through the fog, its whispers weaved, a silver hymn the dark conceived. Soft as sorrow, cold as sin, it traced the earth, yet breathed within.

The wind, a phantom, slow and white, brushed through bones with cruel delight. A porcelain touch—so light, so thin, yet laced with whispers luring in.

And in the woods of emerald deep, where darkness curled and secrets sleep, the trees stood still, their voices low, like specters carved in velvet woe.

A night of beauty, sharp as blades, where moonlight kissed, yet love decayed. For all that haunts, for all that calls, is both the lure—and the fall.

But never did I know, beneath the glow,
If this night, so haunting, was friend or foe.
For in the world, the darkest things,
Are not the night, but what mankind brings.

I never felt the vampire's breath,
Nor the chill of its icy death.
For all that haunts and pulls you near,
Is not the beauty, but the fear.
"The night whispered no threats, the wind carried no malice—yet I was warned to fear them. But the coldest touch I ever knew was never the winter air, but the world’s quiet, creeping dread."
 201° 
Khoisan
thetruthtakesdoubttotallyout
.
Itevenhasscientistsbaffled
 194° 
Parker
i found an old hoodie of yours in my dresser.
i promise i wont call.
 174° 
Steve Page
I miss my little brother. Especially at harvest. He was a hard worker – strong back and long reach. The kind of brother you want around.

‘Course, there was much more to him than strength and size. His art demonstrates that. He used to love experimenting with oils in his down time and had a knack for vivid battle scenes.

They say you paint what you know and not a year went by when he wasn’t called up for service. They would come to the farm to say the king needed him, and there was no refusing that call.

What he saw on the front line haunted him. So much was expected of him of course, but I think we overestimated his ability to cope with the ordeal of combat. Folk mistook his stature for a propensity for violence that needed release. We knew different. He was happier in the fields.  

I heard dad talking with him while he painted. It was clear my brother knew the value of a champion. The lives saved. The men who got to go back to their farms and families. The gods had gifted him, dad said. But when I see his canvases, that’s where I see the gift. Lasting reminders of the trauma that lesser men can wrought. Reminders of the suffering one man can save us from.

I miss Goliath.
There are always 2 sides to a story.
 162° 
K
The light hits my skin different
the sun would never
leave behind traces of love
I have yet to see the same artistic expression
during the day
This contrast
leaves blisters on my hands
Waking up under a spell
my feet hurt
Photographic memories of you
make love
to my soul  
Full of dreary absence
and dozy
my large tears brim
Let them fall
Splash
 155° 
Elena
I became an addict at such a young age
I just wanted to numb the pain
Calling doctor every week or so
For a new prescription
Lying to my family that I am fine
Tears and sweat soaking my shirt
Flashbacks become alive
Withdrawals make it worse
I just need to survive another night
Through this burning hole
#sad #addiction #depression #withdrawals
 146° 
Mica Wood
A knot work spell is an easy way
To breathe magic into macrame.
An anchor knot for an aid
so I don’t drop my braid.

I try to tie well,
for each knot is a spell
I don’t want to unravel.

Carefully binding
to seal in my intentions.

A mantra, repeated with each loop.

I am loved,
I am loved,
I am loved.
 137° 
Aneesah Lionheart
Please don’t arouse
my anger
I don’t know
what I’ll do
If you threaten
My children
I might
Decapitate you

Please don’t arouse
My anger
Stay on
my Good side
Friend
If you arouse
My anger
It may mean
Your end
The noun love is one of the strongest things a person can possesses. Love is rivaled by few other emotions, anger being one. God forgive me for what I may do, if someone harms one of my children.
 125° 
Larry Berger
There is nothing like
a bathroom window
where you can sit comfortably
and watch the snow
piling up on the branches
of the barren trees
in your yard;
I once met the people
who invented thermopane;
thanks, guys! it looks
really cold out there,
I think I’ll bake
some cookies.
 95° 
Clay Micallef
The first sign of
daylight dissolved
my good intentions
nothing at all
seamed to shine
every thought fell
into dark water
the sun was
painted grey
my dreams were cold
as distant mountains
and when the death
Lillie's bloom from your
lonely heart and your
love only hears
the cello cry
when your angel walks
with wings of stone
and your daffodils
want to die
meet me here
beneath the
gun metal sky
and you know
everything will
be just fine
follow me
we’ll walk away
our sadness
in the rain …
Clay.M
 79° 
deanena tierney
And there dies my heart.
It is finished.
 76° 
Maria
You stepped off a cliff by accident
No reason to feel this way is evident
To everyone around you seem so weak and shallow
The only one you trust your secrets is your shadow

You’re drowning silently alone
The chest is heavy, it’s a stone
Each breath takes so much will
It’s getting hard to take a step without a pill

You see your own reflection as the enemy
You feel ashamed to talk about it to your family
You go on in a suffer mode
The path is faded, it’s a dangerous road

You face unknown - you face the fear
Your mama says: ”Calm down, my dear”
You wish the words could heal the scars
Each time you see the falling stars
 75° 
Nick Moore
I'd give her one!
 75° 
Chameleon
I’ll go home
and build a fire,
put on the podcast
that feels like having friends
and go to sleep.
 70° 
Rohaniyat
Jab pehli baar mile, hua aisa haal,
Mili aankhen, mile dil, mile khayal.

Kitna khaas ban gaya woh rishta,
Zindagi ko mili naye jeene ki misaal.

Badal gaye halat, badal gayi duniya,
Har mod pe milta raha ek kamaal.

Dil ki baat unse yunhi keh di,
Zubaan ko mila ek naya jamaal.

Ab raah-e-ishq mein hai bas unka saath,
Zindagi ban gayi ek haseen ghazal ka haal.

~ Rohaniyat
 65° 
girlrinth
A skeleton pets a pterodactyl.
Clusters of dragonflies.
Hear the stasis calling.
Ocean waves flying.
Bones are stomping.
Clouds are falling.
Poems rot at dawn.
There are words I’ll never say.
There’s bitterness I need to slay.
Shorter is always better.
 64° 
Elizabeth Kelly
The darkness is
alight with static
filling the air,
washing the barren ground anew.

She sleeps just there,
I see her from the ceiling,
measured breathing,
stealing dreams from the ether blue.

On this snowy night
may we each be warmed  
against this frozen blight
with the promise of summer’s dew.
Covered in my mind is seeing you in danger,
They're saying your beauty has an affect on gals having seizures,
Mainly they be the ménage à trois ones that have attained your profile and seek to meet you with a favor,
Show your feet for feeding them, Relaxation from their drawing from your consummate beginning,
Sometimes, and increasingly, in further engagement,
It's no problem for me still to this day, and I'm afraid of will see inner's
And during the kiosk days when which we first chilled, and I was cool, not a seizure,
And I didn't know emotion that way rolled as your beauty's regulatory power too,
I felt it was your limbic that made me signal you we attracting a lot of people,
Not your beauty signaling abnormal electrical activity
You briefly lose it don't you,
You will
 61° 
Dennis Willis
a life of
inflammation
with bouts of
consternation
and today's
conflagration
the final
indignation
my yawning
imagination
write sleep now
gesticulation
and vanish
distribilation

has meaning gone?
oh good
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