I am a child in wildness
open the ignorant eyes
see the endless plain
with green grass
and rolling mountains
A blue river
flows through
freely

There is
no panic
no bullying
no dispute
only life
breathes
freely

Where was your sense of compunction
as you held your stony faced head high?
What kind of messed up malfunction
gave you the right to let that man die?

Go

Leave me no taste

A sample of you would be a waste

If I cannot dine on more

Then what is love for?

while we
let the sun kiss our skin
we watched the sky
through the leaves
and talked
about the weight of the world
which is laying on the shoulders
of our generation

qwertyuiopasdfghjklzxcvbnmmnbvcxzlkjhgfdsapoiuytrewqQWERTYUIOPASD­FGHJKLZXCVBNMMNBVCXZLKJHGFDSAPOIUYTREWQ12345678900987654321!@#$%^­&())(&^%$#@!][';/.,|}{":?><,./;'[]\|<>?:"{}|'~~'

Sometimes I wonder
if noise had a colour
then what shade
would silence be

Buzz, beep, follow.
Where does it happen?
The paradigm shift.
From badge to heartless.
Senseless.

YOU WILL HEAR US 👂
YOU WILL SEE US👀
YOU WILL RESPECT US✊🏾
PERIOD.

For almost 2 days, now, I have been wondering what has been going on.

I can't upvote and comment on poems, and most poems that I see posted have no view counts.

By now one would have hoped that the fallen would gotten back on their feet.

I just wish there was a voice out there, somewhere, instead of speculating.

Logan Robertson

6/02/20

I stopped writing

For awhile.

Because I found that when I write
It’s so real.
It’s like hearing back my own words from the lips of someone wiser

Not from a broken child,
But from a bitter miser.

It's time for a name
Not to be just another 'name'

To anyone who lost a life
You didn't die in vain

Colour doesn't matter
Inside we're all the same

It's time to stop the suffering
It's time to stop the pain

never felt so alone
stuck in my room
such a dark place
never felt so cold
chills run down my spine

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.

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

I used to have interaction on here but for the past 6 months my account has had zero.
No one is seeing my writing. Please help

I have kissed boys

Girls

People in between

But lately I have been kissing bottles

Their lips are colder than yours

But slowly I have realized that the pounding headache when I wake is less hurtful than the shattering in my chest

Yet as these toxins rush through my veins

I can't help but miss the tracing of your fingers along my skin

Miss the numbness of the world when you lie with me

But when I wake I remember that a headache is treated with an aspirin

While heartache

Well if you have a cure for Heartache let me know

sticks and stones
will break bones
and a knee will take a life

tear gas and barricades
will need first aids
and rubber bullets will take eyes

signs and chants
dismissed as rants
and a point that will keep being missed

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)

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐦𝐞?
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐈 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬, 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐈 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐞?
𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐈 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐫𝐨𝐛 𝐲𝐨𝐮? 𝐎𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡?
𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝑰'𝒎 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡?

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠,
𝐈𝐧 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐰𝐬, 𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬, 𝐢𝐧 𝒉𝒖𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒃𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔.
𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐲𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞
𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝒎𝒚 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞

𝐈 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧, 𝐚𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲, 𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝,
𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥. 𝐍𝐨𝐭. 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐩. 𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐭 𝐞𝐧𝐝.
𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐭, 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝, 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐞,
𝐁𝐮𝐭, 𝐮𝐧𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐠𝐮𝐧𝐬 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐞'𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐞,

𝐀 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐬,
𝐀 𝐟𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐬.
𝐀𝐬 𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐰𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞,
‘𝐂𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐲𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄.

𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐠𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬,
𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠, 𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬?

𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫,
𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐮𝐩 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐞:
𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊. 𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐒. 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑.

he said he couldn’t breathe,
so they took his last breath

just a foolish girl
letting nostalgia
fill her heart
and leave her aching
for a love
that never existed.

You saved me from a dark place
One that I couldn’t see
Before our paths crossed
I walked through life blindly

When we chance
upon each other
years later,
you will ask me

          do you still write?

and I will answer

           of course I do.

you took my heart
with you when you left,
not my hands.

[found poem by unknown poet and not my words]

Brown eyes are boring
I remember you saying…

There’s a special kind of beauty
in falling in love with someone
who has brown eyes.

Ever seen brown eyes
In the sun?
The colour brown,
becomes irrelevant
& is just a word…

They melt into rays
of amber gold,
circling an eclipse.
There is nothing boring
about brown eyes.

Even as the day grows old,
they create a sunset
of their own.

You know that sunset.
It’s the one
I fell in love with…

[22.11.2018]
~Wynn H

And over time,
My pen stopped bleeding
But my heart didn't