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it’s only eight,
and everything has faded.

it’s only eight,
and you’re not in my arms.

it’s only eight,
eight minutes past my bedtime.

it’s eight,
i’m awake,
stars twinkle,
a bright sprinkle,

it’s only eight,
oh, dreams?
i’ll dream alone.
D Arvizu
A moonlit dance,
filled with new romance.
It's been years
since the the sparks began.
Feelings have spread,but they have often fled.
We have come
and we have left.
Yet here we are,
your hand in my hand.
I'm captured again.
you have my heart.
to the one who had my heart first
Tired of being taken
second best,
she tweaked first
just a little bit,
and came up with
a mighty fist...!
Only four letters
and simply one syllable;
such a dreadful word.
The amount of hate
I feel for you is so great
But so is the love
So pure like a dove

Like reading a good book
That is missing a page
Giving you one look
Just fills me with rage

But then i fall
When i hear you speak
Cause your voice is beautiful
And makes my knees weak

Everything i feel for you
Is a contradiction
I hate that i love you
My sweet addiction
I wish I could fall asleep and never wake up
I’ve been getting closer and closer to that goal by the day
No one has noticed my lack of mental turn-up
Forever and ever in bed I’ll lay
life update for you:
the voice has lost
and now i'm thriving.
sequel to "the voice"
except happier
there was no poem neath my pillow

no poem on my tongue, none from eye envisionaries, no dew gift from my grassy emissaries, parting residue of an unknowable finger touch

nothing stirring, the mother muses mushing their shushing noises,
only breathy quietude, an airy surround sound tissue,
the cadence of intermingled hearts, the mother and the child

two awakenings, one instantaneous, the other restless unhurried slow, but within an impatience to intersect,
the overlap is love stars crossing,
impatience weaponized to make
momma aware her companions refreshed status,
a needy for love’s suckling,
embrace of fresh baked smiles from hot heartedly hearth furnaces

thus a-born a new poem, a welcomed well coming, in words,
the alliance of alliterated words from the interlacing of the mother’s chest heaving and the sniffling joy of a five year old boy reimagining the dreams that crossed from mother to son, and back again, requiring composition and joint authorship of them

the only and only true authentic authorship,
mother and child, their owned unique
duality of singularity
Where Shelter
~for Allison~*

she loves your poetry,
ok you think,
cause you just love her his-stories of her/here life,
the children, the musician, nominate her as daughter,
her poetry and her yay’s spontane-us,
we are fan fanatical
of each other

and she describes us perfectly -

“So I am an idiot standing in a sad storm of letters that are unrelenting”

ok you think,
not bad, for surely
only the most precious things in life are

Joy ride spotted
Keep cool
Don’t run
Here we go...
Ear to ear
Five and flying
Up or down
Every time
Every f-ing time
Thank you Charles Seeberger
Suresh Gupta


......continued - 1

Space is an infinite, eternal existence, incalculable and indefinable. It has no boundaries, a void of absolute vacuum, a reflective canvas.

To be continued.......
From the introductory page of 'FORCES Of CREATION - Scriptures
ting is
your           life
thro             ugh
a ne           edle
and         if
you sew
Baylee Kaye
I’m always afraid
afraid of losing my heart
and my heart is you
There's a hole in my heart

A void in my mind

A deep desire for nothing but want

A need for something like fun

Adventure and thrills

Seekers and pills

Falling into a blackness

So dark I'm turning blue

Such stark it's only true

Helpless and innocent

Forgiving and iridescent

I bond with strangers

Act bold, I'm not the tamest

I am stuck, so stuck

I don't know how to get out of here

This place, this room, this hide

This mask, this facade,

This glass, this wall, this broken bridge

It is all burning up into flames

Watch it, sink

Down it goes deep into

Black Waters

- soulwriterj
Written in a state of fragility and lostness.
IG: @soulwriterj
forget nothing of what they say

for the words they hold are lies masked by nothing but paper thin lanterns

forgive them for you are not going to fill yourself with the poison of anger

as hard as it may be.

one day i will say goodbye and never look back.
wrote this when i was really tired and really out of it.
In celestial harmony—
As will we
If only we
Can keep
Our heads up,
Hearts high
Towards the sky
We descended from
You’re not invisible, only see through...
my core is a well
of deep emotions
and i struggle to string
a raft made of words
to stay afloat.
A poet.
John Doe
I heard  a song not long ago and it made me think of us.

The song ended and that to made me think about us.
Jules DelPercio
I believed you were beautiful
until you showed me you weren't.
Daniel Ruiz
I'm here sitting
the smell of coffee runs through
my veins,
some music i probably will forget
in a few years arguing with
the thought of you,

But I'm here,
I'm here,
writing about what's happening

pretty boring huh?

i call myself a poet
but i can't use high metaphors,

i call myself a poet
but i can't describe fully
how you make me feel

i call myself a poet

but what am i?

I'm just a kid
scared of life
finding new ways to cope
searching for someone to love,
not holding unto my dreams
how can i choose with my mind
what's right for the heart to choose.

and you see?
don't you see?

don't worry i can't either

i can't see how great i am
i can't see how other people see me
i wish i could.

i want to believe this was a dream
a nightmare at that.

But at last.
I'm here wishing that in another life
i could be with you,
maybe in other deaths,

i crave your touch,
i crave you..
with coffee waking up my senses
like a kid in summer waking up early
to go play with his friends.

i wish things were different,
so i wouldn't have to wish.
Path Humble
the count starts now (tired of tired)

I read your outcry at 3:00am
posted on Facebook

you are
tired of tired
sick of sick
the only question, will it ever end...

rise this day,  start another way...

count your blessing
count against all odds
for there are more than merely one

use both hands
both hands chested to feel the heart thrusting,
for living is a wondrous blessing unique
an unbelievable to believe than so many beats,
born and borne,
by you, a strength unequaled,
you a richness possessed

count that one first.
count my hands holding your shoulders.
count that as two, one for me, one for you.

more? more.  

mirror.  find the tiny light in each eye against a yellow backdrop.

add two more. for they are a sparking confidence of confirming.

you felt the heart thrumming
go back, feel the breathing warmth breaching forth.
add another. for now known you can never ever be cold.

wash the face, wash away the caution that sleep leaves,
the coverlet of fear that fears you not to dare,
amazing that tap water plain is sacred when it
miracle breaks you out and anoints thy forehead with pure oil like the kings of yore, be a kingly human being.

go out. do not return
until one act of kind is performed and
count that as a thousand blessed, a sum recurring recounted

walk humble and the path will always appear.
walk contented for you can be both king and servant,
there is no difference - you must be both to be the other

and if you still cannot raise the head,
call me.
that would be a blessing for me
and I will hear your blessings sounds mine merge,
dear friend and no more stranger,
that is the simplest definition of our learning to count to
4:00am I read your cry on facebook
elle jaxsun
i always have
the urge to run.

but what is it like
to be a tree?

to be confident enough
to root yourself
and grow with
wild abandonment,
being unapologetically

i'm still running,
but i wish i knew.
i sip away my tears
that have landed
in my watered down
the strength it once held
no longer holds me
written by d.f.
@daymarepoetry on instagram

did i make it awkward
or did you?

--always me
Life is a matter of perspective
And happiness is a choice
But the smile I paint upon my face
Doesn't mask the sadness in my voice
Just because I know joy is inside me
Doesn't mean I feel it in my heart
I search for peace every single day
But finding it is the hardest part
It comes so easy for others
As it did to me once before
It's not that what I have isn't enough
It's that I used to have so much more
If you can't find happiness in the ugliness you won't find it in the beauty
Hanging on
Originally, I had a girl hanging from a string that was connected to the letter T in "thread". Here it is:

Or if that does not work..
Infamous one
Getting in the zone
Read the word
Clear the mind
All will be fine
Good vibes feel alive
Push through stay true
Eric Martin
Death is coming
It's coming fast
No use in running
Life wont last

But while you still have your freedoms
Before that day
Make peace with your demons
Before you burn away
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.
For you.
Violet Moretti
You stare at me
Like a deer
I am attracted it your blinding light
I stare into your promise of death
And I welcome it
I see death
But it is covered by beauty
Your light beckons me
Shows me promise
That while I may die
At least for the first time
I wouldn’t be surprised
I do not miss you anymore
Nor do I hope you think of me
Six months alone, unlearning codependency
I feel yellow, I feel complete
I do not miss you anymore
What if poetry is just an escape from loneliness?

What if most poets if not all are loners

Who find comfort in speaking with themselves?

These poems are feelings unheard

Sadness outweighing happiness
I miss you
and that is true.
I know and I’m sor
ry, because I haven’t c
ome to see you. I know
you’ll forgive the fact that
I’m a coward. I’m so sorry,
and I owe you so much. Ele
ven years of friendship, but I
haven’t seen you in four month
s. I will come. However, a vi
sit means accepting good-
bye. So I will be there
in my own time.

I promise, I’ll bring lavender when I come.
Caitlyn Fletcher
I may be broken
But I'm anything far from fragile
And then one day, breath
An ease and sudden release
I can now be free
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.
last rainy night
i was always behind you
and somehow it was enough;
loving you from afar
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