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Nat Lipstadt
T'is a curious thing,
these verbal peddlers,
these tribal members,
famously well known to no one,
perhaps at best,
a kindred few, fellow-travelers.

Each a troop,
in the army of orphans,
bloodied, purple hearted,
anonymous unto each other,
yet all bonded intimates,
in solitary struggle united,
yet sea-parted by the very nature
of the solitude of composition.

All poets are Cain scar-marked,
purposed for everyone to see,
a warning to the rabbled boors,
the imagination suppressors!


cherish these flawed ones,
gentle these frail but gritty,
the Lord has tasked them
to be prophets in one tongue untied,
undo the strife of Babel's division.


Be the harpooners
of the unexamined life,
with unfettered rhapsody,
comfort caress us,
exhort the loopy
to light their illusionary candles,
turn the sad eyed lowlanders
into crinkly eye-lined smilers.

With clinical observation,
dense and demanding,
make us laugh at
the comedy of our situation,
teach us our free-to-see peep show,
reveal, unseal us
with **** empathy!

For who's who in poetry
is all of us!
saviors and failures,
recorders and decoders,
night writers of the oohs and aahs
of dreams and nightmares.

When this poet cannot,
no longer, anymore,
taste his poems upon your lips,
keep your poems within his heart,
then he breathes no more,
becoming one who was, yet still is,
because of you,

because of poetry.
I can’t give you the world,
but I can give you mine.
I’m not feline.
but I’d choose you,
In any life.
It would be you in all nine.

I gazed at this beautiful view,
While telling the stars all about you.
This crisp night in Budapest,
I told them why I felt so blessed.

The sun rose and ruined my apprise,
It’s fresh light filled the skies.
I still had so much to declare,
I’ll be the chuck to your Blair.
First poem
Archana Biswal
Silence hit me hard;
When I wasn't able to hear the melody of the waves near the seacoast;
When I wasn't able to find souls & species in the most chaotic street of the Metropolis;
When the cold breeze seized to blow;
When the rain drops didn't collide;
When life met death;
But above all ;
When my profound thoughts stopped yielding noise in my head, Silence completely took me into it's realm.
This poetry of mine clearly depicts the irony of the thing that Silence is making robust noise in my head and I'm completely under it's influence.
the breaking
one wave
could never
the entire
We need too both let go breaks are good for everyone to take
We need to both figure out our priorities
And what we both need
We need to both figure out if we want to still be in a friendship
Right now Im confused and need time
i need time to breathe I need time only for myself
This will do us both good
We cant keep going like this
I just feel emotionally drained
And not myself
Im always on edge and my blood bubbles inside of me
I need time to think about all of this
I need to sort out my mind and my soul
I want to feel at peace because im in a constant rush
I just need myself to myself.
caroline left a message to ask you to be kind
this was her legacy that she left behind
to help people with there issues and with there despair
with there mental health each and every where

she cared for everyone her  kindness all around
there inside her heart kindness it was found
sadly missed for ever she will aways be
by the friends she knew and her family.

now there rasing funds in honour of her name
to help people with there issues that will be there aim
a tribute message to caroline flack RIP

i have made a video of this poen with music
on youtube link number
take a look and share thanks
if they say a one-word poem,
i'll write your name...
Austin Reed
A little a day
Paves the way
A little a day
Won’t leave me astray
A little today
Leaves everything okay
Living sealing
The truest self
Is the most painful
In life
Live authentic

Evan Stephens
I am wayward,
have always been.
Yet I'm one sleep
away from you,

& I'm still:
still as the night leaf,
still as the larch post.
still as the new moon.

Here is the pool
of evening,
come to take this
waiting from me.

I am wayward,
have always been -
but for you, lovely one,
I am patient as saints.
Tears have abandoned me
Plants are wilting, leaves browning
Everything is bone dry, no more to see
Cracking on the inside, face is frowning

Reaching deep down to the marrow
Comprehending all the totality
Searching for the flying sparrow
Thank you God for showing me the reality

An angel told me to embrace it all
The mistakes, lessons, and all the pain
As the night falls, it’s time to do an overhaul
No more justifying, now freed from the brain drain
Some things are just not meant to be...
My mind is on standby
I'm sick helppp
Buried Words
My mother treats me as if I am 2 different people.
My mental health,
And the child.
I do not exist in her mind.
I am broken,
I am not me.
I’m not allowed to be me.
“You will com back to how you were before”
This is me Mom. This is it. My mental health is part of me. There is no going back.
Unworthy of a body
I want to destroy myself
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
Salmabanu Hatim
Yes,I was naive  and innocent,
But, I was drunk on his kisses,
I was drunk with his touch,
I was drunk on his sweet tongue,
I was filled with desire,
So, I suppose I can't say he took advantage of me.
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.
Scott Montgonery
You cannot be who you are not
You can’t write another’s life
You’ll never be someone else
You’ll never be ok
Daisy Ashcroft
Her perfume
I just love it so

Her perfume
Where she got it I long to know

Her perfume
It now clings to me

Her perfume:
The last memory of her that will ever be
I am writing a story with a character whose girlfriend goes missing. Just really felt that if she wrote a poem, it would be like this.
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
Willow Silvera
We’re all puppets
With scripts to follow
And strings attached
Whether we like it
Or not
Blinded by their lies,
Surrendering to illusions,
Pledging to the Puppeteers,
Above us

Tied to coarse string at birth
All we know is
Curtains hanging
To keep
(Protect, they say)
Us from

The ones we willfully
Placed on their gleaming
Ruby-encrusted thrones
We gave them wine
Made from our blood.
In Return,
They changed
Our veins to sap
Our flesh to wood.

And so
We, the People
Politely clapped
And nodded.
We, the People
Supported the idea of banishing
Our own kind.
We, the People
Cheered and yelled when the Grand Puppeteer
Ordered for us to be
Isolated and confined
From the Others.
Welcome to the Land of the Free!
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.
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!
the sun sets and rises
the rain pours and stops

but my feelings stay the same
isn’t it too unfair?
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 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.
Please don’t hate me
and please don’t just love my body

Either would be
On any other day

But I’m catching feeling
For you my love
in exchange my voice grows talons
at the sight of simple sweets-

and i wish i could inform you,
gracious and replete,
that my words are naught but paper
thrown in the path of stallions.

I am short when I grow hoarse-
and your height is such a tease,
I know my anger flares
at what you carry out with ease-
and I’m sorry I’m too old and young for curiosity to appease
that which brought me into you
and gave me home-

but if you would please, darling,
come about in the unknown-
and sprinkle me with pleasantries
in caskets round the globe

I’d climb the trees and basketweave with nettles for your loans...
please disregard the talons and plant your roots inside my stone.
Millie San
Life is beautiful even I have to live in an imperfect world.
Life is more of light than darkness as it welcomes every morning.
Life is beautiful because everyday is another chance to live.
The seconds, minutes, hours, and the day after today is a gift.
Life is beautiful trust me.

May God guide you with HIS everlasting love.
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.
moon child
"I'm an open book"
She says

Written in
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
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
Amanda Noel
My soul leads me
where I need to go
So I learned
to follow the flow
instead of push
or pull,

I don't trust
what I think I know,
But accept
what comes natural,
so when I'm unsure of
what I can't control
I patiently listen for....
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.
Cathy Devan
She hides behind the poems
That lay in her draft
Screaming to be published
Just publish the draft let them know you
in my dreams..
we're still a beautiful possibility !!
And when you left
I overwatered all your flowers
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