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 320° 
Hooria Iftikhar
Mister
I'm not sure how you don't
Appreciate
The wonderful wacky
Being that is me
I suppose I could try harder
But it's not my fault that
You can't see
 160° 
Mary Anne Norton
Morning song begun
Brilliant colors in the sky
Birds sing in the trees
Δ
We could make a disturbing
poem that people might
mistake for high art
 44° 
Joshua Downing
Writing all of my emotions in paint on the wall
To step back and see a portrait of you all along
Build the frame to crop out the guilt
Then admire the beauty of how it once felt
 41° 
Kierra
I don't feel special,
I'm not unique.
I want to cry
but I can't even speak.
My hands reach out,
but they cannot hold
a single thing
but the bitter cold.
Everything's frozen,
I feel lost.
Even my tears
have turned to frost.
When I cut my waist
it bleeds black.
I'm so deeply gone
there's no way back.
This is goodbye
 34° 
Tyler Harper
i used to deny myself death
as i was learned inflicting it
  would send me to hell.

i guess it saved me

i still bathe in that wish.
counting as they slowly wilt away,
  my white pedals of ash.
   the reward of risking the whole flower.
 34° 
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)
 27° 
sandra wyllie
you used to wash all over yourself. And as
I melted I got smaller in your hands. I took
your dirt and ran down the drain. Till
all that was left of me was *****
water and poverty. You came
out clean.
 24° 
fray narte
these days, emptiness is beginning to look more like a poem that writes itself. the irony is it is everything i can't be and everything i am
 22° 
Cydney Something
All I know
Is how
I feel

And sometimes I
Wish I
Knew nothing
 19° 
Brooke
When I was little
I was scared
Scared of the monsters living under my bed
I used to hide, under my blanket
Under my blanket, I was safe
The monsters couldn’t reach me under my blanket

My parents used to say
The monsters would go away
I would grow up and that then they would leave

But I grew up
And the monsters didn’t leave
Turns out my monsters, grew with me
Now instead of under my bed
The monsters live inside my head

So I hide, under my blanket
Where I think I am safe
Wondering if after all this time
My blanket can still keep the monsters at bay
 18° 
Axel
I try to find art in a picture of the future—
but my fingers keep on tracing
each one of my past paintings,
thinking about how beautiful it was
when I colored them wild and free.
it was hard to leave you
 18° 
haysia
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.
 17° 
Max
She said "I'm falling in love."

I said "I'm falling apart."
What's the difference?
 17° 
Mikko
In this dark room a big light shines upon us
We didn't care for it was only the two of us

As I slowly touch you I see you smile
We did it with such grace

I said to myself  "God I will never leave her"
But then you left me after


What we did was indecent
But it's a memory I can't replace
 17° 
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.
The ground is molten lava
there is fire in the
air we breathe, it is
my one desire to have
you here with me.
You may want to
pray to Jesus when
this story ends. Will
you keep my company
I guess that just depends
I count the souls here
by the trillions, we get
more every day. Some
times it's by the billions
and they are here to stay.
Here you will find Buda,
Allah's in here too
I know this may upset
some, not what it's
meant to do. I am just
a demon and soul's
are up for sale, the next
step when the wicked
die is here with me
in hell. This description
is not over, river's of feces
on the floor. You will seek
to find a way out but
will not find the door.
each person here doe's
suffer, the torment never
ends. If a name is
not in the book of
life the suffering  just
begins.
 16° 
Jade
I’m really scared
Im loosing it
My fragile mind
Slowly bruising it
I think too much
Overusing it
it’s my fault
But I keep doing it
 15° 
misha
your name is
forbidden in
my mouth
or in my heart
because when
i think about
you;

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
 15° 
Brumous
.
.
.
melodies, delicacies & poetry
I indulge myself in these,
for I am drunk on emptiness
never to break free.


The life I am living as, is it--
I continue living as a corpse;
unbreathing.

-Br.
____
(I like to make the titles a part of my poems :] )


Isn't it lonely?
 15° 
emnabee
The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.
A little escape from the madness.
Or maybe, into.
 15° 
Mohannie

You're more beautiful
And more outstanding and bright
Than you'll ever know.

You're worth more than you'll know. Just a reminder.
 14° 
max
i didn’t mean to fall in love
but i did
and you didn’t mean to hurt
but you did
 14° 
Traveler
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
.


Hay
No matter who you are
You have my deepest respect!

Vanity
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
 14° 
Thomas W Case
Saturn is in
line with
Venus tonight
but, nothing's easy
when you're down.
The clowns walk
around, dressed in
yellow; fast food smiles
and cheeseburger
souls, and nothings
easy when you're down.

The dancers with poles
and sadness, that Halloween,
fires burning...childhood,
perfumed dreams,
kind of sadness fills the
navy blue night.
I can't find the North star,
and the jack-lanterns lie rotting
in the streets of Nebraska
and Kansas, and the candies
all gone, and the kids wait.
And I can't find  
the deep blue shirt I bought
at Goodwill, and Billy Burroughs
is filled with worms and earth,
and Bukowski looks at Satan
and says, "what do you
mean, we're out of whiskey?"

I've never been much for the stars,
and family and Thanksgiving are
painfully overrated,
and nothing's easy when
you're down.
check out my youtube channel  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wN63fddvsTI&
 13° 
Shamai
Today
I decided to write a poem
To put words together
In such a way
As to express
My innermost feelings

And I lost the words
And my thoughts drifted
And my computer keys stuck
And nothing came forward

So
Perhaps tomorrow
I will write a poem
To express my life
And for today
Perhaps
I’ll just go
Outside
To play
 13° 
Kassan Jahmal
A tear
is but a drop in the ocean.

As pain
is only for a moment.
Sharp jagged rocks, a river
doe's flow, I hear
your voice on the breeze
I've learned a lot and
one thing I do know
is your cry in the pine
on the trees. Lover
of life with a care free
spirit induces me to
see, that you are wild
and I'm nowhere near
it is why it's unsettled
in me. It's your way
that beaconed me,
it caused me to see
that you were a lover
of all. I was under
your spell now I'm
finally free I'm no longer
six inches tall.
 12° 
Rue
And with a sincere smile,
she looked to the stars
knowing the future was worthwhile,
even, with a thousand scars.
 12° 
Frances Raeburn
I love you
whatever that means.
 12° 
Francie Lynch
I have stared
Far too long
At this blank page.
I've come to the hard realization,
Like a refugee raft,
This poem won't write herself.
 11° 
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.
 11° 
Moe
If passion is fire. We have that in common
I ignite, you ignite. Burn factor remain same.
I don’t see an end. Only way to put out the fire. To kiss where it matters the most.
A loon communes on the lake,
the lake is a tear drop on Mother Earth,
the ripples flow like glass being blown,
I am perched on my porch.
The loon cries once more,
I puff on my cigar,
the smoke shifts indecisively,
it moves much like the unchained around me,
free willed and wild.
I dream of being unchained.
My branches stretch out,
they yearn for the sun,
but heavy grey clouds hang on puppet strings.
Overcast and encumbered by responsibility,
they shroud the sun,
blanket it with regret and doubt.
I dream of being unchained.
I lower my branches and shout,
but no one hears,
my voice is chained.
The loon cries out,
it echoes unrestrained.
Copyright Barry Pietrantonio
 11° 
Tom Dodd
Comedy can mock tragedy
As long the lion stays in it’s cage
 11° 
Ann
keep your eyes closed love.

           e     t      
       m           i
    o                 m
s                        e  
                            s     all you have to
                                                                ­
                                                                ­ l                  is to what the sound
                                                           ­      i            n
                                                  ­                s           e
                                                               ­          t

                                                              ­                               v
                                                               ­                         a        e
                             ­                                          of the  w               s
                                                               ­                                       
                         ­                                                                 ­            tells  you
                                                                ­                                        to do.
"keep your eyes closed love. sometimes all you have to listen is to what the sound of the waves tells you to do"

When I was much younger, beaches were my second favorite places. I still love watching waves as they go by, crashing against each other and the whole process repeating all over again.
 11° 
Elena
Her eyes were fiery
While her lips peeled away
Her sun was setting
But her colors never fade
When she bites she is bitter
But when she smiles she is sweet
Like a nectarine emblem
She’s the fruit of life’s tree.
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