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time seemingly halts
with worldly wisdom bestowed
in blessed silence
Snow Selmon
flying away on folded wings
taking turns and frowning of sin
through rusted bushes
there shining yellow hues
a story of colour
what are we gonna do
A mother’s love
Runs deeper than salt buried in the stone of canyons
The weight of this joyous burden is unlike any other
We hold their life between our legs
Then our palms
So fragile
So beautiful
My belly swells in longing
Knowing one day I might be able to
Know you
Until then
I’ll wait with a desire deeper
Than I’ve known
- To my future children
Palak Datta
Make babies, not by-products of ***.
Abusive marriages lead to an abnormal upbringing. Stop giving your kid what you got. Don't fight in front of them. Because, it leaves a long-lasting effect.
Lewis Wyn Davies
Touches of pink
on skin and sky.
Silhouettes of swifts
pivot a perfect slither
of crescent moon.

Garden sprinkler
spits and splutters -
fearing winter
on the edge of summer.
Poem #13 from my collection 'A Shropshire Grad'. A little something about my love of summer/fear of winter.
Wanting to be like someone
And wanting to be someone
Are two very different things. is identity theft!

To be or to be the other one.....that is the question.
A momentary burst of sarcasm.
To be or not to be someone like Shakespeare....that is the question....!
Beulin S S
I lost my freedom;

From the day I met you...

You tamed me;

You hijacked my soul...

I am an ever free bird;

Until I met you...

You kindled my soul;

You are staying in my heart...

I tried to move on...

I told my heart to carry on.

You bewitched me;

You stole my heart...

I can't move a bit;

Without you in my life...
Missing my heart
such a beautiful monster
my lover is
he haunts me
with his cruel hands yet soft touch
he torments me
he adores me
at times I fail to tell the two apart
such a beautiful monster
my lover is
Bethany M P
The sand shifts beneath your feet,
Your heart relaxes to a quiet beat,
The waters seem to breathe day and night,
Close your eyes take it in do not fight,
The wind satisfies your soul,
Just relax now you've played your role,
Touch the sand now scoop it up,
Hold it in your hands and form a cup,
Now let it seep through towards the sandy ground,
Your soul was lost but now its found,
The weather you desire will come your way,
Just stand closer to the bay,
Soon life will be eternal for you and me,
Look beyond the ocean and tell me what you see.
                          -open heart poetry
the love she once hadーburned.
(stomped into the ground. she never want to remember it)
hatred brimmed her entirety.
(she couldn’t help it. was it the harsh reality or was it just her true self?)
life leaking out of her.
(it’s not like she really wanted to live to begin with)
will she be okay? never.
(because basking in sadness is still much easier than soaking in the reality she’s stuck with)
pain too near, too often; clouding her every being
(but still, it’s all too painful, too familiar. everything she had sworn to avoid eventually drop into her lap. all at once. it’s like they played a sick joke on her.)
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!
Anderson M
A conflation of
Hues filled with lush mystery
Unmatched artistry.
#Portal to #soul.
Norman Crane
Despite all my rage
I am still just four minutes
of silence
                          —John Cage
everyone will love you and leave you,
use you and abuse you,
haze, tease, and misuse you,
act like they don’t know you, change up,
switch like a pitch and i’m the blindfolded batter,
and i’m getting used to it now
strike three,
i’m out,
i didn’t even wanna be in anyway.
A dreamer dreams,
A man sees.
But the dreamer was never a man,
The dreamer is the greatest voice of all mind.

A dreamer dreams,
A  man sees.
But the dreamer was never man.

Now the world has become so dull.
The dreamer is lost in a sight of darkness,
The dreamer is lost in a night of a thousand storms.

Were you ever a man?
Broke my wings
So I couldn’t


So I stole his soul
So he couldn’t

I wish I only existed within the pages of a book
I wish I was as quiet as a whisper
Just barely there, barely heard
Like a sweet lullaby
I want to exist for a quick flash
In a dream that feels like thread unraveling
Ready to be broken away and gone within a second
But it was still there
Just for that
And that’s all I’d ever need
I’m already living it
I want to live inside a dream
•                               •

•                                                 •
9         «———  >§<  ———»         3

•                                                 •

•                               •

“Struck is the hour from its ivory tower,
At sixes and sevens, the stars in their heavens,

As minute hands dance at twilight's advance,
To the cadence of time, the archangel’s chime;

Listen closely for me at a quarter to thee,
‘Twixt the tick and the tock of grandpapa’s clock,

Unquicken thine pace, for run is the race,
Hear the pendulum lock, ziccoty, diccoty, dock.

‘There was a sudden stillness like the gap between ticks on a clock, but the next tick never coming.’
- Sadie Jones, The Outcast
Pascal Janssen
Words die little deaths,
Hopeful kamikaze runs,
Endings on windscreens.
Mystic Ink Plus
If you survived
That despair
That unfair
That chaos
That storm
That void
That emptiness
That silence
That dark time
Along the way
And yet, keep the balance
With kindness alive
And calm eyes

No matter what
You are not of this time
To be precise
You are divine
No less than the God
Don't know
Who needs to hear this
May be, the person reading

Your goodness
Genre: Inspirational
Theme: Hope is real
keila skie
I know
You care about me
10 more people do
Yet I can't get rid
Of this feeling
Of doom

I know
I have you
10 more people too
Yet I can't find a person
To talk to
late at night
Violet Violates
Why only nonhumans get a petty death?
I'm not okay.
Mosquitoes ~ in a clap.
Flies get peace in a snap.
Ants lay stomped in a flash.
Spiders crunch in a boot clash.
Dogs get halved in a motor rush.
Birds in the shock are always hush.
Why don't humans get this easy deliverance?
They aren't pure or good enough to deserve difficult exit.
Title inspiration - Gerard Way, My Chemical Romance (MCR)
The wild side of living life
Is that nothing can be tamed;
Everything is changing,
Nothing stays the same.

But with new wind
comes inspiration,
And even though
There's consternation,

You can always count
On life to sway-
And throw each line
Of the rule book away.
I was once a girl with a big heart
That's tend to give her all attention
Not knowing I've lost myself in the process
Crawling in bed and crying at night
Make myself forgot erthing at night.

Self-worth, self-love are nowhere to be found
Drown by the messages you have sent me
Still hoping for the time we will meet
Soon, I will be seeing you with a smile.
I deserve peace. We all do. Make me forget please

We are all but
In the eyes of others
In one’s own
The truth
The lies
Fire and ice
Sugar and spice
Ingredients to life
glitches, stitches ,misunderstandings
this is where we meet
unforgiven, unforgiving,
forgiven and set free
small inconveniences, physical hurts
emotional upsets
a helping hand, clenched fist
arms open wide.
All I have left behind is dissolving into the past
crumbling most of it
but it was necessary
for it prepared me for the now

to embrace you
to embrace whatever form you take
whatever song your life sings
whatever mood swings into gear within you

No matter the norms, the age gap, the multiple reasons someone might wave their finger at me or frown at my direction while thinking I’m out of mind

If you are a go, then baby I am a go
...ready as could be
Not everything needs a poem
it’s already

good enough.
Jeremy Stacy
A depression had me gloom
from the loss I presume
an exhaust would resume
until I saw you bloom
Instagram jst490_poetry
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
Salmabanu Hatim
I almost died in a car accident,
I saw the Angel of Death take my
husband with him,
I desired to leave the world too
with my beloved .
The conductor refused me to board the bus,
Saying my name was not on the list for almost twenty years to come.
So here I am writing poetry on HP.
A friend of mine told me
I write when I’m sad
She said it is as if I am in pain
And I said when I write it rains
When I put the pen on paper the clouds get dark
And when I stop
The birds of the sky sings
Coming out to play as the sun is out
Birdsong at sunrise
Rising sweet on the clear air
A hymn of morning
callie joseph
i couldn't tell you where
but she was surfing on her own
salty water in her hair
and a ribcage full of stone
the lit cigarette was smothered by the sand as the rains came in
No one sees you or even acknowledges who you are or what evil things you’ve done in life,
except for that one person staring through your lies,
straight into your glistening eyes
This poem was inspired by Ted Bundy, he was a handsome and charming man as people would call him who murdered people for his own pleasure. Luckily he was caught on 16th August 1975.
Weathered soul of wood
Grayed frame leaning downwind
Emptied of purpose
By dreams torn from dreamers

The sky’s palette of grays and more grays
Hang you in a portrait
Themed in the abandoned
And the cruelty of time

Yet my presence holds her un abandoned
I brush what she was and what she is
In a portrait that I hang in my mind
In these moments.... that castrates time
#oldhouses #weathered #portraits
Rupert Pip
Break my bones;
cut my throat.
Pull me open,
learn the ropes.

Breath me in;
taste the fear.
Shank my skin;
stand and cheer.

Kick my head;
let me bleed.
Unbolt my veins;
enjoy the read.

Gouge my eyes;
punch my face.
Wrap me up
in your embrace.
Get to know me like I do you; inside and out.
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 like *******.
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.
Writing  makes her happy.
When the pen.
Feels her pain.
And the paper.
Understands her words.
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