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Seconds ticking
I moved closer
My left hand around her

Seconds ticking
She moved closer
Her right hand around me

I can feel her breath
I can smell her scent
Of her skin

I moved further
Now I'm listening to her heart beat

Lub-dub lub-dub lub-dub
Ja-dach ja-dach ja-dach

Yes yes yes

Flowers of water
Came from the clouds tip tap tup
To drench us

Further I moved
I can feel the electromagnetic induction
Two bodies can't get closer

Clock stopped
Time warped
Space stood still

It's annihilation
Two souls merged

It's pair production
The merged soul released
A couple of sparkles

Little sounds
vibrations through the bodies
My lips touched hers
Rest's blanked out
It's nirvana

Couple of tear drops
coming from her eyes
Ayes fondled my lips

I have tasted a kiss.
It's love



Seconds ticking,
I move closer.
My left hand around her.

Seconds ticking,
She moves closer,
Her right hand around me.

Feeling her breath
Smelling the scent
Of her skin.

I move further.
Listening to her heart beat.

Lub-dub lub-dub lub-dub
Ja-dach ja-dach ja-dach

Yes... yes... yes...

Flowers of water,
Rushing from the clouds, tip tap tup
To drench us.

Further I move,
Electromagnetic induction,
Our bodies can't get closer.

Clock stops.
Time warps.
Space stands still.

It's annihilation,
Two souls merging.

Pair production,
The merged soul releasing
A couple of sparkles.

Little sounds,
vibrations through the bodies.
My lips touch hers.
The rest is a blank.
Nirvana.

Tiny tear drops,
escape from her eyes.
and ****** my lips.

I have tasted a kiss.
It's love’s perpetual bliss...
<3 <3
I wish that I had known
Or at least been told
That the memories I thought to keep
Were given out to me in loan

And that without a say
This, my Memory bank
Could over time repossess
What little bit of it I saved

The price they make you pay
When you find in time you bank on age
Can suddenly lose interest
Or at least make your payment late

The means to an end depends on how long
And who is holding the note
To when the bank in question
Goes into foreclose

At this late stage I wish I'd known
Or at least been told
That the memories I deposited over the years
Were only given out in loan
 Jul 16 Àŧùl
Ankush
Why a poem ?
This,
Yes this is *******

I force my face to curve
Yes , this is totally *******.

A don't give a **** face ?
Yes,That's why I can't pose,
Astheticism
Is not my **** blood,
Yeah i can fake a smile though

I had never a steering in my hand,
Now I have it
I can direct it to literally anywhere

And yes , I don't know why I kept moving

I have seen thousands of sceneries through this
Window,
Now I really decided to stop on this

Now when I stepped on the surface,
I lost the **** steering

Now someone else has it,
Another steering same purpose

And hey that's totally ******* too,

I have my legs so I can walk
Steps more,
But i will not and can't follow the car though,

The car was **** nice,
Ac inbuilt, soundproof glass
Feeling like on castle,
Looking down on one's who's
On **** bycycle
And one's who on his feet

They are **** ******* ******* too,
But all there is wanted to make a stop

Each stop is just is exaggerated
Now or then doesn't matters

Everyone will lost their **** steering.

This ,
This is
Not poem on sheet
Just pure *******.

And yeah now I am the scenery
Either I wait for the
The person who drives
Or just walk few more steps

Either way it depends on kind of glass
The person wears
Red or green
Cause the traffic light is absolute white
Completely neutral

The light has a button too,
to change accordingly

But as the scenery is
The light is absolute ******* too.
Written on a day when nothing made sense — not even sense itself.
 Jul 16 Àŧùl
SG Holter
I

She exits herself on the
Sofa. Blanket, dog, and bits
Of a poem on a pad of paper

On the table, like a half-eaten
Piece of homework.
Shades of wine on her sleeping

Lips. Exits herself; space-walks
Outside that frame of mind she's
Been expected to hang herself

On the wall within; she knows
There is more.
There has to be more.

II

She has to be more.
Like so many writers, she falls
Asleep working. Sometimes

Works to fall asleep.
Digging her way through
Herself, mining for words,

Hacking away at painful pasts,
Gathering emerald experiences.  
Diamond doubts and ruby

Regrets all fuel her poetry.
And she reads, spotlight kissed;  
Audience adored,

Goosebump summoning; hairs
On arms and necks stand up as
She whispers directly to me.

About me. Because of me.
In front of everybody.
To music, and I've brought a box

Of pins, and between each of her
Every word, I drop one. And I
Swear to the gods, you can hear

Them all. Like the unsteady
Ticking of a clock too cool to
Care.

III

Poetry jewelry; set with stones
From her innermost. Chips of
Gold from her heart melted

Down to a key pendant she
Holds in her hand; chain dangling,
Eyes closed, forehead resting

Against a door she knows it is
Time to open. Key in one hand,
Pen in the other,

She
Enters
Herself.
 Jul 9 Àŧùl
Kim Yu
I'm a divine leaf fallen from an evergreen tree, driven away down a foggy river
Like a raindrop who thinks he is mud, I roam from one mud to another like a restless bee searching for pollen on every flower
I'm here, wherever here is, it had been so long I knew where I was or where I belonged
But I'm steadily waking from my slumber, the Absolute Truth pierces sharply through these curtains of ignorance
I've been counting my sins more than my blessings
Because I am the perfection of imperfections
I hail from a place of limitations
A reflection of many endings and many beginnings
I am eternal
I am spirit
For the soul there is neither birth nor death at any time. He has not come into being, does not come into being, and will not come into being. He is unborn, eternal, ever-existing and primeval. He is not slain when the body is slain.
[Bg 2.20]
 Jun 29 Àŧùl
Kim Yu
Tsala e ya nnete tota
E lerato le popota
Ga e go bone makoa
Ga e go tsenye ka sekgwa.

Fa lefatshe le tlhanoga
Le ditshotlo di tlhatloga
O mongwe fela yo o gomotsang
Ke tsala e e go ratang.

Tsala ya maaka, ramatlhajana
Tsamaya le ena nakonyana
Melato a ka e go bolaisa
Fa go buiwa o a itshegisa.

O go tsenya mo kotsing
A go potise ka fa mosing,
Le phepa la gagwe leina
O le tlhatswitse la wena.

Botsala jwa nnete
Ga bo tlhwatlhwa e bokete
Bo rekwa ka setshego
Le lerato la tlholego.
Fell in love with this poem in my High school days, it's a Tswana poem about A True Friend...very beautiful.
 Jun 29 Àŧùl
Kim Yu
Raindrop
 Jun 29 Àŧùl
Kim Yu
You have come down with the storm
Splashed and spread across the Earth
Merging with the mud to take form
In this amalgamation, you took your first breath.

You have since assumed the affairs of the mud-form you’ve chosen
Entrapped by the aspiration of fulfilling the duties that come with it
And limited within the terrain in which it is soaked in
Wholly bewildered in a dimension you cannot outwit

O Raindrop, soon the sun will rise and the mud will dry
With all the illusions you’ve acquired in this long night
Wither away with the mud or evaporate back into the sky?
Will you perish into sand or re-immerse yourself with the infinite?
Your soul as the raindrop and your body represented by the mud.
 Jun 19 Àŧùl
ProfMoonCake
My legs are nailed to the ground.
The blood gushes out—
but it doesn’t hurt as much.

I watch you all do great things,
buy pretty silks,
while I sit here and marinate.

Guilt, laziness, and loneliness
coat me well.
Every crevice of my being
feels heavy and aimless.

I'll laugh at it all,
give advice to my babies,
criticize those working hard
while I spend the day staring.

Pause is now my friend.

I need to move.
I need to run.
I need to fall.
I need to change.
 Jun 19 Àŧùl
Ashi Jain
can't stop crying while trying not to give up
i really wanna try to not give up
smiling all day to not face it
while dying inside to try to face it
 Jun 19 Àŧùl
Jenna
Silly doll

Carpenter man
Knew best
To his broken toys

How silly
To think bickered
The ligneous toy
Insisted on suturing

Shouldn't she know
Carpenter man
Does best hand & mind
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