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Jeremy Stacy
A depression had me gloom
from the loss I presume
an exhaust would resume
until I saw you bloom
Instagram jst490_poetry
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“Struck is the hour from its ivory tower,
At sixes and sevens, the stars in their heavens,

As minute hands dance at twilight's advance,
To the cadence of time, the archangel’s chime;

Listen closely for me at a quarter to thee,
‘Twixt the tick and the tock of grandpapa’s clock,

Unquicken thine pace, for run is the race,
Hear the pendulum lock, ziccoty, diccoty, dock.

‘There was a sudden stillness like the gap between ticks on a clock, but the next tick never coming.’
- Sadie Jones, The Outcast
Caage Gaber
It flows down my skin;
a pure and perfect crimson.
What a time to grin.
It really is the perfect shade of red
Son of golden soil
हिंदी वालों को हिंदी में
अंग्रेजी वालों को अंग्रेजी में
कईयों को टनों में तो
कईयों को किलो में
यों ही लूटाते जायें
सदाचार की खूशबू‌
इस जहां में
शायरी तो इसलिए
करते हैं‌ कि खोज
सकें कोई रहबर इस
जीवन जंग-ए-मैदान में
Salmabanu Hatim
I almost died in a car accident,
I saw the Angel of Death take my
husband with him,
I desired to leave the world too
with my beloved .
The conductor refused me to board the bus,
Saying my name was not on the list for almost twenty years to come.
So here I am writing poetry on HP.
potery thought
Love, a useless playing card
which alone, is redeemable
in separation,

and there it blooms, and there it ascends
in nightmares, in abrasions,
like a train, always in front ..

The mornings..
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!
For all the beauty that lives around us
There is equal amounts behind our eyes
And between our ears
If only we realize it
If only we feel it
We will see
Gardens of our own flowers
Blooming in paradise
Peace to all of you.
Whit Howland
Like we are  traveling
by rail
through bucolic scenes of villages
hamlets and vineyards

with the sun bright-eyed
and fresh
in a sky that's marbled
and blue

it's the concerto
we hear when we
close our eyes
plug our ears

and write the
to the soundtrack
of our lives

Whit Howland © 2020
A word painting with a straight forward message. An original.
become sweet reality
everything changes now

now bright
light spilled
hope everywhere
knows Love is all I seek-
Not a life of ***, hedonism,
lust, gambling, and parties-
I do want kids,
to be a wife,
To give back in some way-
To be an aid so someone’s life
and live by what He says-
So what if I’m the wife of a woman?
If our kid’s DNA’s half ours?
I don’t think He discriminates-
Pursue what’s good;
That’s what He asks.
The Church associates homosexuality with promiscuity, selfishness, plus lack of virtue and therefore fulfillment... I refuse to do one or the other. I will love women and love God.
Eshwara Prasad
Someone said my poems look
like etymological puzzles.

But honestly I don't know
the meaning of etymology!
life changes
in blink of an eye
everything turn
up and down
in a seconds

give me
time to breath
time to think
time to process
so I can reading
the situation

even the word right
might be never enough
Birdsong at sunrise
Rising sweet on the clear air
A hymn of morning
Writing  makes her happy.
When the pen.
Feels her pain.
And the paper.
Understands her words.
Broke my wings
So I couldn’t


So I stole his soul
So he couldn’t


We are all but
In the eyes of others
In one’s own
The truth
The lies
Fire and ice
Sugar and spice
Ingredients to life
little she did know,
her bruises had been
the fertile soil of
wildly beautiful flowers
and, her tears had watered them
to not just be a season bloom,
but a forever spring.
Word farer
Until you never understand yourself
Believing people will understand you is worthless...
#todaysrealisation #truth #bitter
keila skie
I know
You care about me
10 more people do
Yet I can't get rid
Of this feeling
Of doom

I know
I have you
10 more people too
Yet I can't find a person
To talk to
late at night
I am worthless
I am useless
I am nothing

I'm a sket
I am ugly
I'm an idiot
Ariana Solo
I understand
I care.
I see.
I hear.
I'll listen.
I'll think.
I'll support.
I'll wink.
I'm trying.
I'm aware.
I'm watching.
I'm here.
I've remembered.
I've realised.
I've believed.
I've advised.
I trust you.
I need you.
I like you.
I love you.
Palak Datta
He asked me- "Why are you still a ******?
I smiled and said- "I'm good at DIY"
The science of our body is such that it doesn't distinguish between ******* and ****** ******* since, the end result is the same.

Then why do we lust for people? Why do we look for mates even when we aren't planning to prove Darwin's Theory of Survival of the Fittest!
callie joseph
i couldn't tell you where
but she was surfing on her own
salty water in her hair
and a ribcage full of stone
the lit cigarette was smothered by the sand as the rains came in
Ashly Kocher
It’s not about where you are in life at the present time
It’s about where you’ll be when your dreams take flight...
Terra Levez
When I got lemons from Life
They told me
to make lemonade
I tried and tried
But the yellow drink kept coming red
with my hands burning
from the cuts that Life left me with
Now burning with acid
Not everything needs a poem
it’s already

good enough.
Christina P
I was unhappy
and I know you felt it.
Because one day
with no warning,
you said goodbye.

Without looking back,
you just left me
on the side of the road.
With a shattered heart
and broken dreams.

Your last words to me
still ring in my ears,
before I go to sleep at night
and the moment I wake up.

"I can't stay.
Because if I do,
you'll walk away.
If there's one thing
I've learned in life,
it's to leave
before you get left."
Odysseus held me in his arms
far beyond your line of sight
far beyond the breakers white

the siren song weaved in our brains
took care I not to go insane
music would never sound the same

neither would hear the others song
traded love was for a silver dart
traded for the empty heart

love just a dream a far away flame
he would not look into my eyes
the siren sound had opened dark & wide

love & music that arose in warm flames
would never come our way again

so we settled for a small blue flame
flickering softly there on your sad face
tattooed in light was my name
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
A friend of mine told me
I write when I’m sad
She said it is as if I am in pain
And I said when I write it rains
When I put the pen on paper the clouds get dark
And when I stop
The birds of the sky sings
Coming out to play as the sun is out
Orchid Rose
i  listen to him while i smoke a cigarette
peaceful morning while he tells me his regrets
but that's why we're all here right?
regrets, drugs, addiction, the tempting night?
he talks about his wife and i listen
i miss being numb. his forehead glistens
i watch the smoke rise and disperse
i stop listening. i start to think about the universe
i think i'm a narcissist
might just be
the promise
I have always made
to myself
My son does not understand fear,
he is 3,
he thinks in color,
he believes in magic,
he says that our dog Smokey
controls the weather.

Watch him as he goes!
Jumping over cracks on sidewalks,
pretending to fly,
attempting to get near electric outlets
because he saw them spark once,
and fire,
fire is cool!

"Watch me Mommy!

watch me."

Some days I stay in bed all day,
I tell everyone I am catching a cold,
a sinus infection,
another migraine again.

It is easier to lie than to explain,
that it is too difficult to shower,
to find an outfit, to brush my hair,
to make food,
to chew it.

Friends jokingly call me a hypochondriac,
my Mother thinks I am mellow dramatic,
My son asks me if I need my temperature checked.

It is too honest to say,
"I am fighting monsters, and they won today."
Who would believe me if I did?

We are taught since childhood
to not believe in the things
we can not see.

The day we buried my Grandfather,
I wore my favorite gray dress,
I was scared to taint it
with such a sad memory,
but I was 8 months pregnant
and nothing else fit.

We threw dirt in a hole
as three strangers watched us grieve.
They stood with shovels ready to do their jobs,
ready to get home to their loved ones.  

All I could think about was how much
it aches to love anyone,
even in the good times, it aches.
Loss dances outside our window
like flames, waiting to engulf.

I vowed to protect my child
from any unnecessary pain,
I vowed to make him feel safe.

Now I fear I am the one
tainting him in gray.

Not every day is bad,
most days are nice, in fact,
some days are so good
that the bad ones seem
like distant memories.

On the good days I feel brave,
brave like my son;

I tickle his tummy and show him
which lights are stars, which are planets,
and tell him I love him, always,
no matter what.
Everyday someone goes unseen and we lose another, everyday someone is hurt so badly the pain wont go away so they stop the pain, everyday someone loses their life and everyone finally realises what they've done and could've stopped it, everyday someone feels the need to hurt themselves because no one is there for them, everyday we lose another.
I've found that poems help me express myself when I cant talk to others.
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.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see a thousand papers
Filled with broken poetries
And deadbeat proses
Full of woeful verses
With mournful pieces
Of unfinished stories
That are yet to be written
And failed to be spoken;
If you could read my mind,
You’d hear horrible screams
And earsplitting weeps
From shattered dreams,
Kept in a nasty notepad,
Scribbled on a bed
Of bloodstained words,
Ringing in my head.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see the shadows
That lurk within me;
You’d hear the bellows,
Screeching the words
“I’m tired,”
“I’m a failure,”
“I’m stupid –”
I know it sounds stupid,
It’s pathetically foolish
And seems like *******.
If you could read my mind,
You’d feel the tears
I had ever failed to cry;
You’d see the people
That make the weak weaker;
You’d see the monsters
That consume my head;
You’d hear the hollers
That failed to be freed;
You’d see the heart
That still bleeds and bleeds.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see the face
I’ve failed to show back then,
The face I’ve faked back then.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see a character
I had ever failed to become
If you could read my mind,
You’d be able to read
A book you never wished
To touch and read,
But sometimes I still wish
Someone could read my mind.
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