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I'm a lavender,
wild and vibrant.
I am the fragrance
that fills your lungs,
with every breath you intake.
I'm beauty in chaos.
I am a soothing lullaby.

But you prefer roses,
Soft and red,
petals that you could let
your fingers linger.
With **** and desire,
no trust;
a love that is a blazing fire.
i can love you better than her.
She's ready.
He isn't.
She's willing to take the risk.
He isn't.

"I love you."
He whispered to no one
While watching her
Walk down the aisle
With her father
And him as a visitor.
There was something of October that reminded me to make sure you were still there. In the morning when I woke I rolled to your side to see you breathing softly and slowly like a babies first good nights rest. Something about last October reminded me of when he left without a warning or a note that I could crumple up and burn in a fire full of depression and self doubt. I curled up in the armchair facing you just watching you stay and promise to never let go. I wanted my old lover to be that way too, I wanted him to walk on fall leaves and sip cinnamon tea as the nights grew longer as time went. I wished upon a lonely star that he would be just like you but all the hoping turned into sorrow for nothing but his shoe prints were left upon the bottom stair and a string of his curly hair on my rain jacket.
He left me but you stayed
Jello Watson
I know that you're sad
And I feel your pain
I know they broke your heart
Left you drowning in rain

I know that you've found him
And I'm happy too
I know you're delighted
Watching sunsets, him and you

I know that you're frustrated
And I feel your anger
I know what she did
The worst kinds of slander

In all of this, know that I'm here
Know that I feel it, these feelings that chain
I saw it, I heard it, I felt it with you
Know that what happens doesn't happen in vain
~ Jello Watson
Zoe Mae
I wish I never met you

I wish I could forget you

I hate saying I regret you

But you hurt me and I let you
Scott F Hemingway
while she
is up
the sleeves
that saki
gratifies here
and while
her attire
still cleaves
in my
heart that
mistook a
hint of
glamour whether
or not
this thirst
is all
it takes
i see the world unlike no one else.
i look for the different.
the rainbow hair.
the tears in the eyes.
the scars burning the soul.
It is
It is
It is
It isn't
Or is it
patty m
Poets don't pick the time or place, or the state of their lives.  Some write while trying to STAY ALIVE in a hellhole state of abuse. And yes like the homeless man on the street They don't mouth words, they write guts, and gall, and bruises, They write love, and levity and crazy rants or bits and pieces of hope and dreams. Poetry is escape, it's the other side of the mirror, the place of sanity/insanity and escape.
Tinny whine
by design
a wind-chime
words are snowing
trumpets blowing
where's the rhymer
the man who writes lines for two bucks
what the f- - k
Once poets were revered
now they sear through the mind
refined or unrefined, no
loving valentine.
And still I read in awe
chewing on a straw
drinking all the thoughts in
how does one begin to absorb
it all?
The aches the pain, the non-monetary gain,
the romance, and happenstance,
As to the question
Who writes poems like this?
the words were uttered like a breathless kiss

not a reprimand, or justification
supplication to that
unholy state of upper-hand,
on demand, testamentary of
vocabulary signature of solemn state
in which one contemplates tone and
that alone designates the way
one whispers when truly touched
by poetry that says so much.

Who writes poems like this?
I seek to amend,

Only the very best my friend
text is so easy to misunderstand, when one can't hear the tone expressed.  
i keep things to myself,
                                   and still feel empty.
oh, how twisted language can be.
irony twisted bottle up
andromeda green
i love you so much it hurts when you don't love me back.

i've fallen for you.

and i thought i'd never find love.
What makes you happy, can also make you sad, but this also works in reverse.

We go to a concert
but nowhere to park.
We keep driving
till we find a sunset
over a park so we stop
and take a walk,
with you close
to my heart.

When trouble sets in,
your tears mean something.
Define them
Hearts break
when people change
but feelings stay the same.
When the crowd hems you in
and your mind locks you in
that's the time to pull out the pin
and blow the grenade

you can't save yourself in your
current situation
shut down
take a vacation
what tomorrow brings

and tomorrow comes
there's a ringing in your ears
your eyes are clear
and you're able to concentrate

the crowds in your head
no longer chant
that you can't.
and you
know that this day
you can.

I'm not the only one
and neither are you
can all make it through
the dark times.
The dances we do just for the one to attract
The songs we sing we think it would affect
One less moment of boredom from you to subtract
If nothing works we morn and our heads we shake

Useless as they seem to us sometimes
Could be hard if you don't see when we whine
Little things that we do, we believe it's not a crime
Are just for you, to get a little bit of you and your time

If stood for us for our silly little dreams just for once
A pat on the back when we are in doubt
Then my sweetheart I promise you this and it's true
We will offer the whole world to you, just for you
I believe that we all are different and our roles as well. Its just to understand it and each other.
Left Foot Poet
a thousand brilliant lies
(Hafez, Iran 1320-1389);      (L.F.P., USA 20~21st century)

- Hafez -                                 - Left Foot Poet-

“I have a                                  if only, in my meager posses,
thousand brilliant lies,          but one lie when easy asked
For the question:                    the simplest damning of,
How are you?                          are you generally happy?

I have a                                    what is *** you ask,
thousand brilliant lies.          no lies required,
For the question:                    many answers upon my face visible,
What is ***?                          unsure if any worthy of believing

If you think that the               8 centuries separate us, yet
Truth can be known,              you lie; we poets - you, I, all believe

From words                             in the divinity of words

If you think that the                a thousand brilliant sparkles
Sun and the Ocean,                 when Sun loves the Ocean,
Can pass through that            each one a poem passing,
tiny opening Called                my mouth, my wide eyes,
the mouth,                                uttering a Cohen's hallelujah

O someone should                 So we gleam, mirthing in glorious
start laughing!                         and gleeful delight at ourselves
Someone should start             for your brilliant happy lies easily
wildly Laughing Now!"       
­                            unravel into a thousand laughs
I get eloquent in my silence,
I see no need for words,I restrain my tongue,
I delight in no sound,the effects so far are profound,
No longer a stranger to its sways,the vacancy gravitates me to its way,
Being uncharitable in my words,I realise it's not quite as bad.
#introvert #quiet #silence
" That's just me "

You’ll hear her say

" I am lesser than beautiful "
I refuse to believe that
I am of worth
What exactly am I?

A courageous soul who is unapologetically herself

Well, the truth is
I look in the mirror to only see
My reflections disappoint
No longer can I say that
My beauty radiates from within

now read from bottom to top
Piyush Gahlot
We only love once in our lifetime,
Others are just to forget the very first one.
(the gate is a crowded mess, please no special requests, be thankful you got a seat, this flight is sold out and I’m beat.  
I get up and stand on my chair and say)

I give thanks for:

the uncommon greatness of common sense

for the steady approach of that wondrous day when
kindness is neither random or unexpected,
but the rule, not the exception

for our opinions and deeds, that are our own,
derived without coercion, born from our thoughts and observations and that
we are equal to both
owning them and to
changing them

that we live in a time that friendships can grow just through the quick exchange of words leaping bounds

for eyes that see deep deeper than skin,
ears that hear
what those ashamed wish you didn’t, hands that grasp regardless of distance,
the taste of  kisses that come easy sweet  

for the  day when I at last knew,
the pleasure of giving
so far exceeded receiving,
that giving and receiving became

that I learned that the best skill to possess  is
to anticipate
the needs of others

that my lucky position in this world permits me
to act on the things for
which I am thankful

that someday I will need no longer inquire,
are you my poem,
for the answer will be self-evident to us both
LGA 11/22/17 1:00pm
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.
Star BG
Defining self with a name,
is too limiting
to one's own grand nature.

Better yet define yourself with the rising sun
that shines even behind cloudy days.
A river that flows freely with swirling gracefulness.
Or even, the universal heart that plays  sacred song
anointing one to dance.

Yes if I was to define myself,
I would connect with Mother Earth
and celebrate in breath
to live each moment as a gift.
Inspired by chat with B
Zephaniah Nyandika
Today I kissed a girl,
Her lips tasted like popcorn...
All dry and scratchy
Yes can mean so many, many things
More questions
Is way more simple
But so much harder to say
you can change my mind
but you can’t change my heart
if i die i’ll die fighting
Harleen Dhadwal
You ask me to help you understand me
In ways I have yet to understand myself

I don’t know what to tell you  - Harleen Dhadwal
R T Dawn
Come to me my love,
come to me;
On starry nights,
with stars so bright,
they fill you full of life.

Come to me my love,
come to me;
With broken heart,
on days so hard,
and I will play my part.

Come to me my love,
come to me;
When the world spins
and you lose yourself,
and I will hold you up.
I let different boys touch me
Because I wanted to know
Even for a second
What it felt like to be loved
Even if that love was cheap
And it tasted like ***
Like the punchline to a joke
I never got because it was me

I let different boys have different parts of me
Parts that they didn't deserve
But I offered up willingly because I couldn't give anything else
Because you broke me
And I was looking for different fingers
To place different pieces and hoping
That the outcome would be a masterpiece
That maybe one of them would find a way
To cover up the handprints you left all over me

I let different boys touch me because I had to prove to myself that you wouldn't be the only one
That the scars that mark my body wouldn't define my worth to be loved
I am still not entirely sure that you aren't the only one
Who could ever touch me

I let different boys touch me because that is all I have been taught
To be a joke
To be silent
To be ready to give until you have nothing left
- I am hoping one of them will show me
- they keep leaving me and I am to scared to offer up anything more than my body to get them to stay
The truth is,

        I'll never find someone
        who despises me
        as much as myself

        and I'll never be able
        to let someone love me,
        'cause they said

        "you have to love yourself first,
              before anyone else does"

But what if I'll never do?
A condition I'll never meet
It’s like being wrapped in a huge blanked, while sipping on your favourite tea. Sitting on a couch all comfortable, wearing your favourite pyjama. On a cold night, the fireplace melodically cracking inside, while the world all around you is cold and dark.
The feeling you get, when someone deeply cares about you. Warmth and comfort radiating all around. Like the safest place you’ll ever be in.
He writes poetry
But no one knows

He writes poetry
He writes about love
And loss

He writes about smiles
And frowns

He writes about sorrow
And forgotten towns

He writes about how lost he gets
Caught up in his own mind

He writes poetry to
And about others

But no one knows

Know one knows the depth of his soul
Because they all choose to see the exterior
And that exterior screams

And preppy
Don't have souls

Or so they thought
Until the day he was consumed
By his own poetry
It is impossible to give what you do not have,
Therefore,if you do not have love. You can not love,
If you do not love yourself,you can not love another.
The tiles of my bathroom floor make friends with my demons as i sit there and cry wanting to die. i look at myself and all i can see is a broken down reflection of what used to be so whole. So i sit on the floor clutching myself as i break down to pieces i will never find.
She was so broken that she couldn't piece herself together anymore
the rivers pouring from her eyes
water her roots
planting her more firmly
into rock bottom
How can emptiness be so heavy?
my friend once told me
“most people cannot sleep
because sleep requires peace”
and to this day
i still cannot meet his eyes
i don’t know if i want to know, either.
in three words alone
you could either destroy my life
or build it
Chandan Shersia
All I see when I look at life
Is a parallel world different from mine
A world of wonders
Of love, happiness and joy
Celebrating happiness
At every point of time
Look out at the ocean
So vast and blue
Waves singing
The Heaven’s song for you
Reach out your hand
To touch the tiny flashlights
Hanging on a thread
From the Heaven’s floor
Close your eyes
And let the feeling grow
Fly to a place and
Forget about the world around you
Our parallel worlds
Are never meant to meet
But we’ll race along
To the lap of eternity
I have no reason to be sad.
I have food on my table,
I live in a luxurious stable,
I’m not disabled nor financially unstable.
Everything I want, I had.
So please explain to me how I went all bad?
Alex B
Someone stole my color
And threw it to the wind
Scattered like ashes
I don’t know if I’ll ever find it

Someone stole my color
From the face I know so well
I saw it in the cotton candy clouds
And the teal ocean swell

Someone stole my color
I guess that’s where it went
The world looks so much brighter
Like something heaven-sent

Someone stole my color
And that’s what no one knows
Depression isn’t black
It’s the color of a rose

It’s the light orange in a sunset
And the yellow of a peach
Light blue, my favorite color
So simply out of reach

Purple like my favorite eyeshadow
No, lavender, I’d guess you’d say
And my favorite music artist
Although he has passed away

Someone stole my color
Now everything’s too bright
I suppose sometimes darkness
Isn’t the opposite of light

Someone stole my color
So I’ll wear grey and black
As if in mourning
Until I get it back
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