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Iljano lepelblad
I don't know you, but i like you.
I don't talk to you but i hear you.
I don't see you but i know you are watching.

I'd like to say thank you for your eyes that meet my words, thank you for the fact that you seem to find yourself able to relate or find some part that fits your life and current mood.

My words don't mean much its just a tale of everyday life tackeling you to the ground and getting back up, but finding comfort in simple placement of words and people that can relate.

So thank you,

To followers....
9 who know who they are thanks for reading and likes.
if there's a place of light
a hammock for my soul
the devils hands in his pockets,
since i am still living, his jurisdiction fades from his scroll
I've found love so i don't need him anymore
but if i die, I'm laying on that hammock alone
Never think you are not loved
You just think in your heart you are loved
Found this in my granddaughters bedroom when I was tidying it up. If she has sown this in her heart at such a young age. She will become a strong woman xxxxxx
in between the words i speak
there are secrets that i keep
in between these lines i write
there words i decided to hide
what more the in between of you and me
There were words meant to be said
And actions needed to be taken
But we both choose to be safe
Than risk being forsaken
Id go back to the first moment
   Where your eyes shined brighter
When your lips curls up everytime
        you called my name

When your hands never grew tired
      holding mine
        As Cigarettes were my yesterday's comfort habit ,
     I got addicted to you more.

     I used to think love tasted sweeter
      the longer you stay
This time I need that time machine
        to get another taste .
Oh I cry everytime I fail
trying to bring back what was once ours
Im not smart enough to create the impossible time machine to go back in time
but I'll be wiser to change this today
and pray for what fate molds us to be
I know naught of your ways
Such as your gods know nothing of me
Remember me when you feel all alone,
I'm always here for you, I'll never leave you on your own.
Remember me when your heart is broke in two,
I'll always be here to pick up the pieces and heal your heart for you.
Remember me when you feel depressed, stressed or angry,
I'm always going to be by your side through it all, please believe in me. Remember me when you're confused or lost,
Because I'm always here for you no matter what the cost.
Remember me when you're feeling ill in any way,
I'll always be here to nurse you back to health any day.
Remember me after I am gone,
And just for you, I'll be sure to ask *** to leave Heaven's light on.
Remember me please, don't forget,
I'll always remember you, our friendship I'll never regret.
Remember me if you're in Heaven before me,
Maybe you can guide the light for me to see.
Remember me when you don't think you can ever love again,
Because I am here waiting to love you, but I can wait 'til then.
Remember me when you feel like nobody loves you,
Just so you know that I'll always be here, forever too.

©Words of a withering soul
Remember that u are not lonely... And I'll always be there for you
As storms rage in
Pouring the heaviest rains
Sending the loudest thunders
Clouding her feelings
As she sat alone
In her dull and dreary castle

Drop by drop
Floods of doubts engulf her
Sinking every piece of fer
Drowning her from her own sea of maybe's and what if's

Maybe it was just all a fantasy
Maybe it was just her and her loneliness
Maybe they were all the same?
Maybe it's another tragic ending?

What if she never got used of the tales?
What if she never had listened to his songs?
What if she never had opened her doors?

Where is he now?
Gone? Together with his coated promises?
Husssh. She's been here. It's okay
She knows the face of short-term happiness
And he's happy now
They all are.
And there she lies, empty
Forlorn and forgotten.
Be positive enough.
Smile as you want.
Be happy always.
Cry as you want.
Be firm.
Be strong
Have courage.
Believe in your self
Have confidence.
Your brave enough.
Be more understanding.
Love yourself.
In the rooms and halls of our world
I stumble dazed and in pain
for so much unspoken chagrin -
softly lull the woe of my wounds
- the flux from rage to rue
as scoffers watch me stumble the floor
and fractured sounds slip from my mouth,
something like words dejected from the heart.
you're the type of person
they name
A song has meaning.
It is a world of sound.
We drift away when it is heard.
A song has a use.
It is used to calm minds.
A song.
When next I see you,
I shall say nothing
Not that I have nothing to say.

When next I see you,
I shall feel nothing
Not that I have nothing to feel.

I shall not let words or feelings
Interrupt our communion

When you were young,
I played with you,
I read to you,
I tucked you in.

When you were older
I spoke words you enjoyed
I expressed feelings you understood

But, no, I shall say nothing,
I shall feel nothing,
It may only last a moment.

It will mean everything
I go from being insanely hungry to forcing myself to eat
I go from being insanely happy to trying not to cry
Hadiy Syakir
We are
nothing but

but we are
good at making ourselves look atrocious.
The pain is real
The pumpkins feel
When all their seeds
The bumpkins steal
*      *      *      and you are      *      *            
   *           *  just­ like the moon *      *          
*        *   *      -----so, alone-----      *      *    
   *      *    but you shine bright  *      *    
*     *            at the darkest  *      *     *
   *      *      *     of times  *      *      *      *    
*           *           *           *         *          
with putting a dot
sentences doesn't end
secrets in the cellar of the heart
without drinking a bottle is unknown

limita on map
don't think that's impenetrable
landmines that doesn't not hider love
it doesn't scare the heart
Ashly Kocher
Can you hear me?
I’m down here...
6 feet under...
Not where I’m suppose to be
You come and visit me
I hear you constantly pray
To talk to me again
Hold my hand
Hug me tight
Well I’m right here
I hear everything you say
I cry with you
I laugh with you
I pray with you
I am always with you
Even from 6 feet under
I pray myself
To heal your pain
Dry your eyes
Help you move on
Don’t forget me
You know where I am
Always in your heart
Forever your friend
I will continue to grow old with you
Until we meet again
When we walk together in the sky
Holding each others hands
For now I stay
6 feet underground
Loving you
Praying with you
Hearing your voice
As I lay in silence
6 feet underground...
Wrote this from the perspective of a person who has passed away and what they see and feel everyday....
Grace Sager
b e a u t i f u l
i love the way it rolled off of your tongue
beautiful, b e a u t i f u l.
every time our eyes intertwine i can hear it echo;
beautiful, b e a u t i f u l.
a word my heart has only dreamed of hearing,
and yet here i am
standing beside you
still in awe
beautiful, b e a u t i f u l.
When did **** become irrelevant?
For your mother, sister, daughter, friend
leah snyder
“pinky promise?” i ask him desperately.
“of course,” he replies, distantly.
it didn’t take him long to break that promise.

free verse
it was a chilly day today
the air around you was suffocating
the way you acted was cold
i couldn't feel my fingers
and though it wasn't raining today
it was definitely raining
i couldn't feel yet i could
yeah, it really was a bit chilly today
virga- rain that begins to rain down but evaporates before it hits the ground
today was this sort of day for me
This is for you:

-the girl who is so ashamed because of her acne,
-the girl who cries in front of her mirror because she doesn’t
look like Picasso’s muse,
-the girl who forgot how to smile because of her problems,
-the girl who cries her eyes out every night because of him,
-the girl who is so terrified to attach because of her past relationship,
-the girl who is different from the others,
-the girl who wants to save every soul she meets, except hers,
-the girl whose heart, blood and soul runs wild,

-you are so much more than the sprinkles from your skin.
-you're not Picasso’s muse, but you definitely are ***’s muse.
-don’t waste your life being so stressed, just enjoy the journey.
-you need to be strong.Cry your heart out, but stop,your tears are too worthy , make them rare, for the real ones.
-try to love yourself first, then someone else.
-your future is not defined by your past.
-you need to save yourself first.
-run with them, darling, and never look back.

This is for you, girls.
You, no matter what, are good enough.
You are lovable.
You are strong.
You are independent.
You are different.
You are rare.
You are you, and that is your power, learn how to use it.
love yourself, girl
Grace Spellman
i guess
i’ll love you
the way the sun
loves the moon
and you
will love me
the way the grass
loves the trees
perfectly in synch
but just a little too different
to ever truly
i think the love of your life and “the right one” are two different people
Words are made of water
And memories of smoke
One will fade away with time
And one will make you choke.
i think i may be choking on my words right now
If birth control pills could give a buzz
"Unwanted" pregnancy would no longer be a
So much to say,
So few people to truly listen.
i wrote you
a letter every day
letters to tell you
just how i feel

written in neat, curved
writing i told you
just how sweet
i thought you were
how you made my heart

letters in which i wrote
with various colors of ink
pouring out my whole being
to you

i wrote you
a letter every day.

i wrote you letters in which
i told you how you made me

i found myself
pressing harder on
the paper
than i had before.

creating tears in them
similar in shape
and size
as the ones
inside of me.

i began to send
with creases
and bumps
and stains
splattered with tears

from my eyes

as i wrote
the anger
bubbling within me.

my last letter
addressed to you
no words

but was blank.
i had none that

could reach
as far

and deep

into the cracks
of my

to describe
what you

had left
of me.
a draft i decided to finish because it took a totally different turn than originally intended.
voided heart
so torn between
two mouths
that I almost
would rather
choose neither.
I’m no poet
But I sure sound like one
From my grammar to
the misused punctuation
I can express
What I feel
From my mind
To white paper
The paper is my canvas
my mind is the paint
the pen is my brush
and the reader,
The Art critic.
Go ahead,
critique me
but just like a painting
I don’t plan on changing it
What you see
is what you get

I’m no poet after all
Nat Lipstadt
Why Men Cry in the Bathroom

For so many reasons.
I will tell you the why.
I think you know,
Or perhaps, you think you know.

Men are always O.K.,
Even when not.

We expect the worse,
Accept the worse,
We are forever unprepared.

Wearily, we cry,
In the bathroom, in private,
Lest sighs slip by,
We be unmasked,
Early warring, strife signs warning.

Copious, tho we weep
Before the mirror confessor,
It is relief untethered,
Unbinding of the feet,
An uncounting
Of beaded rosaries,
Of freshly fallen hail stones,
Of night times terrors
By dawn's early edition's light,
and welcomed.

But look for the mute tear,
The eye-cornered drop,
*** tat, that never drops,
But never ceases formation and
Reforming, over and over again,
In a state of perpetuity of reconstitution,

The tippy tear of an iceberg revealing,
And I see you peeping, wondering,
What is beneath

Look for:
the torn worm-eaten edges of spirit,
thrift shop bought, extra worn,
grieving lines neath the eyes,
where the salt has evaporated,
discolored the skin.
worry lines,
under and above,
browed mapped, furrowed boundaries.
the laugh line saga,
where better days are stored,
recalled, as well as recanted,
publicly, privately.

Why just men?

I don't know,
it is all I know.

Jan 6, 2013
your effusive and lengthy comments are each a poem in their own right.  

Tinkered with June 22, 2013
With a push from Bala,
A serial peeper, thank ***!
Maybe tomorrow,
Will be my day,

Maybe tomorrow,
I’ll find my way,

Maybe tomorrow,
Things’ll get better,

Maybe tomorrow,
My life’ll improve,

And maybe tomorrow,
I’ll find hope,
But maybe, tomorrow,
I’ll give up.
I ripped my heart out
And put it on your silver platter
And all you can say is
“ I’ll text you later .”
I guess this is how heartbreak goes for some people.
Path Humble
left my phone unlocked
on the taxis back seat,
won't be the last time

called it a few times
finally, the driver picked up

he had a fare immediately after mine,
and was now headed way downtown,
and would call later
when fate returned him nearer my office

and so it came to pass,
very shortly thereafter,

we met on the street,
he rolled down  the window
and with the greatest smile of pleasure,
as if he had won the lottery
handed me my phone

I had two $20's to cover any expense he might have incurred,
neatly folded in my hand  
and offered it right up, right away;
but the driver repeatedly pushed my hand away
as I insisted,

"No sir, no no, not necessary!

Allah sent me a fare
that took me soon back close to you, so,
  no loss of time did I suffer,
so your offer is kindly unnecessary!"

to which I replied,

Allah sent you to me
so I could reward you!"

and with an equally, beaming smile continued,

"our ride and meeting today,
together was pre-ordained it was

Inshallah!" ^

something he could not dispute...

  we parted ways
   each believing,
   each receiving
a heavenly check plus,
each, credited with a mitzvah^^
on our
respective trip logs,
our humanly divine balance sheets,
kept by the
supreme taxi dispatcher
Arabic for ^"***/Allah willing" or "if ***/Allah wills," frequently spoken by a Muslim

^^a meritorious or charitable act in the Jewish tradition

NYC taxi cab drivers are suffering economically by the explosion of ride hailing app cars, many unable to pay their bills, earn a living, have committed suicide over the past few months

true story, poetry is there for the taking
Salmabanu Hatim
She was a bee,
Her words,like nectar pouring
from her lips,
Her sting was worst.
E Lynch
It arrives,
Unnoticed, unannounced.

At first.

Seeping, dripping.

I put it down to a few stressful weeks.
I carry on.

It unpacks,
Worries, anxieties.

For now,

Whispers, creaks.

‘It will leave soon’ I think ‘It always does.’
I keep going.

It settles in,
Getting comfortable.

Getting louder,
And louder.

Banging thoughts,

‘Please don’t be happening again’.
I shuffle along my daily routine.

Claws in,


Shame, worthlessness,

‘Please go away’.
I’m barely coping.

Growing roots,
Into my brain and heart.

Blossoming pain,
With every beat.

Emptiness, loneliness,

Silence, Stillness,
‘I can’t move, I can’t cope.’
It's not cool that you did that,
why are you always contradicting yourself, on purpose?
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