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Deidre Lockyer
In the morning of yesterday
There were strangers talking in my garden, heads close together
Intent on each other, in whispers
I heard them say your name
And the earth shifted a little...the season moved forward a little
And I heard myself sigh like a dreamer

Harvesting hearts and marigolds
The thief steals in when we least expect it, masqued and lithe
Wanting an exploration of Souls
Oblivious, if we’re generous
But still the knife cuts deeply...the blade turns without intention
And I’m bleeding out like a Madrigal

I loved you too much in the Mirrorfall
I found you in the violin’s shadow
Dust and star tears are my witnesses
I love you
My joy and my abyss
I am trying to believe in a love for me.
this is not permanent
this feeling
this aching of my broken heart
remind my self everyday
this is not permanent
Beckie Davies
if you take off your armour
if you lay your weapons down
if you show me your vulnerability
i will retreat
i will do the same
i will retreat
David Naumann
Silence where words would be,
ignorance where understanding should be,
apathy where love could be.
Hardest words to say, need to be said the most
David Lessard
I used to read your poems
but lately you don't write
you're silent and aloof
you know that isn't right.
You can't close a door once opened
you can't abolish all your dreams
you're a poet of the heart
mustn't fall apart at the seams.
Say what you can in words
they speak the message true
spoken from the heart
the poems will see you through.
A hermit's not your style
a recluse, you are not
never give up writing
of things that you've been taught.
I used to read your poems
I'd read them once again
if you would send them out
(this one's from a poet friend)
They said,
"The most beautiful art is
looking into someone's eyes
when they talk about the
things they love.
And I said,
"Or looking at someone you love.
Or maybe, just maybe,
by looking at the mirror
is the most beautiful art
anyone should appreciate."
Appreciation post for myself; for you and for everyone as well. You deserve more than the world has to offer.
Lucas Ennis
It feels like my wrists are burning
Blood is dripping down my arms
My head keeps screaming
I shouldn't of self-harmed.
My mom is going to be mad.
She's going to hit me again.
Give me another bruise.
Now my scars have some friends.
Just wash off the blood.
Dry off with the towel.
Wrap up your arms.
Go back to your personal bubble.
Isolate yourself for another week little girl.
Take you medicine.
And jump off the hill.
Just a little vent cause I feel icky.
Ann P
Terima kasih
sudah menyelamatkan aku
dari kesedihan ini
Terima kasih
sudah membangkitkan aku
dari keterpurukan tiada henti
Kau sungguh hebat
Hanya dengan suara dan karya mu
Berjuta orang sorak bergembira
Kau sudah mati
Karena kau bukan malaikat
Sama seperti diriku
Manusia hina
Kau sudah mati
Akan ku kubur jasad mu dalam jiwa ku
Akan ku peluk erat arwah mu
Jika orang bertanya tentang dirimu
Akan ku bisikan
Pahlawan ku sudah mati
Iblis memanggil nya
Bukan Tuhan
I’m stuck in a rut
unable to escape
Full of shallow words
with no rhyme or rhythm
lacking structure
scratching the surface
with no hope of redemption
My words carelessly strewn
leave nothing to the imagination
as deep as a gutter
as full as a strainer
as meaningful as my life
will i ever get out
Love is a fiction being written in the moment and read in the past,
and it only lasts for as long as both parties involved believe it to be true.
Which, unfortunately for me, wasn't very long for you.
So many poems
and stories
have gone unwritten
due to fear of not being good enough
Dennis Willis
These self actuated
"bags of mostly salt water"
imagine some really
astonishing things
you, for example
imagine me, writing
and I'm not anymore
imagine me, writhing

and I am anymore
'gainst what I imagine
plays these daily tricks
wherein I keep finding
its still me here 'gain
sayin' the same crazy
discolored things
to not be crazy
the same again
She said "I'm falling in love."

I said "I'm falling apart."
What's the difference?
Never could I be so free
to look up at the turning sky,
let go of what let go of me,
and end this with an empty line.
Real freedom
are intrinsically linked
to the freedom
of a bird of prey.
Poetry Art
may you continue
reaching your dreams
even if sometimes
it is too far
even if sometimes
it is too hard
may you never get tired
of moving forward
may you live well, rest well, and love well.

to better days ahead,
poetry art
The moment someone knows me
The moment someone sees
I exist
I am present
I am back to being me

And so I go where noone knows me
To where I'm openly not seen
To not exist for a few hours
Is such a blessing
Not to be
The January Lasts

It's not about non-existence. It's about getting away from the self without reset. It's about being... Refreshed. And we all do that differently.
maybe people are meant
to fall in love
but not meant
to be together.

i was coming to terms with this
only to find out
we werent in love.
i was.
you never loved me
you didnt feel anything for me
you tried to,
but loving someone isnt something
you can make happen.

we always said we were meant to be, right?
perfect for each other
you said our love was pure
and real
and unbreakable.
look at it now,
its shattered.

falling in love with you
was the easiest thing
ive ever done.
falling out of love
will be the hardest.
i guess the [lovers] code has been cracked.
I hate writing
Because what is on paper can be seen
What if they don’t like
When they see the real me
Sometimes we can only see the blossom
when we hit the bottom
little joys of life
help to strive

I know you care about me
and this sets me free
and let me be
bringing me a cup of tea
The way you stand
The way you sit
The way you secretly laugh for a bit
You’ve been hurt
You’ve been broken
And yet your heart is wide open
You think no one sees
You think no one cares
But that is really just not fair
Because I see
Because I do
My heart is filled by just looking at you
If there comes a time
that you might lose me
Find me in my poetry
I long  to someone I don't know .
to something about to happen
I can smell the hidden green fire in smooth stones of the valley
the giant sprit of Chaleville crawls beneath my skin
like warm wind
I was about to give up
till  I saw a promising smile like a lily glowing in the deepest darkness  of my soul different from all lilys of the Ardennes
Dear Reader,
if you're reading this
it means
I'm dead
as a paper


to be etched
with the poem
I tried to write
so many times
when I was m-
Allesha Eman
You are the abundance of stars only visible to the dreamer in the wake of night

The sun and its companions as they glow to shine a light on the surface of your skin

You are the mischief that forms the toothy grin on the face of a child’s curiosity

The everlasting glow on their faces as they question the world around them

And I am lost in translation, confused, amused and somewhat enchanted

To you I am the clouds that hide away your blue skies

But to me I am the ones that shield you from the glare of a jealous sun

And to each other we are foreign, bordered and misunderstood

Lost in translation I’m waiting for you to understand ,
That to you; you’re nothing, but to me; you’re my dreamland
Linus Stevenson
We kissed and said goodbye
"Don't miss me too much" I teased
And you didn't.
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!

All is vanity
The meanings of passion
The aesthetic expression
The lines we draw and stay within
Even love is beyond intent
Vanity transcends
Flowing from our pens
And so we breathe again
Jeremy Stacy
I trade out fondness for admiration
I demand adulate for affirmation
I equate silence as hate by narration
as I’m vexed in fixation by a trait and it’s temptations
Instagram jstpoetry
joe machetto
the walls were
the length of night
when he heard birds
practicing their songs

from a tree lined street
to the ribs
of his door

there he was
just a man
on a bed
in a room

tied to a space
a decoration of
his own cave

waiting for the eyes
of his window
to open

and life to come
rushing in
Winnalynn Wood
If I’m not beautiful enough for you, then what am I?

If I’m not funny enough for you, then what am I?

If I’m not smart enough for you, then what am I?

If I’m not rich enough for you, then what am I?

If I’m not entertaining enough for you, then what am I?

If I’m not enough for you, then who am I?
reminiscing of screeching tires,
shattering glass,
my head hitting the windshield
..seatbelts do save lives I guess
why am I disappointed?
I sought so desperately to drown.
She so happily obliged.
She the crimson black sea.

So here I lie,
In the beautiful dark.
The infinite depths of she.
I got too close. She warned me. I got what I asked for.
i spend my days
pouring myself into the cups of others

only to find that
when it’s time for myself
to take a sip

all that’s left
in my cup
is the remainder of a girl
who gave too much
self care is extremely important. most days I fight my depression by putting smiles onto others faces, but forgetting about my once bright smile.
not a prognosis
when i cry
i taste the salt
from your tears
instead of mine
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
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.
it was the last time
you ever kissed me goodnight
the day the moon fell

Yesterday I cried to the moon
as she wiped my tears away
made my worries disappear
so I could sleep again.

Today I smile at the sun
and it shines back on me,
what a wonderful world
to be alive;
to be me.
he bleeds music
liquid melodies and clotted rhythms
that spurt in pulsating streams
from the open wound
of his beating heart

he lives in the key of b
with a love
that cannot
be freed
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