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 Aug 2018 Josh Cooper
Yitkbel
I am terribly near sighted
Consciously and subconsciously
I see not what I have saw
And
I hear not what I have heard
Sometimes,
In fact most of the time,
I don’t even feel
What I should have felt

But the mirror of life
It keeps a record of every little thing
And I relive in my dreams
All that I have missed

And much much more:

All I ever need
Is just a little hint of life:

Your lovely little smile
I failed to respond to during the day
Would haunt me
With what would seem like
A whole lifetime of sweet champagne
And
Kisses of cherries and grapes
With a scent of longing that
Fills me to the core with
Twinges that burst throughout
My entire being
Shining brightly from
Every single particle of my
Soul

The little chirps and calls of crickets
That alternate between the oblivious
Moon upon a bed of restless stars
And the wizened sun
Would always take me to a land
Unlived, untouched, unruined
A vast nonexistence
A vast ruin full of life
Where I have never been so alone
Yet so fulfilled, so joyful, and so
Free

And

The dreamless gale that
Would raise me up to mountains
From which I can finally gaze down
With sure and confident eyes
Upon the whole of life
And
See, sense, and feel
Every scenery and every being
With the purest of colours
Rowing down the crimson rivers
In a canary boat caressed by
A forest of ocean blue sequoias
Blanketed with a soup of
Violet stars
Into the heart of the universe

Where everything that have lived
Or could have lived
Never went away

Where nothing is ever gone
But just lost
So momentarily
Like a wandering child
Let out into the world
Seemingly defenselessly
Yet, perfectly safe
Under the hidden watch of
The mother

Where everything I love
Love me just as much
And so much more

Where I am never just me
But a child
A poet
A painter
A musician
An ancient pilgrim

Where I can fall into stars
And float up to the edge
Of the sky
Swim in the air without my feet
Ever touching the ground

Where I am finally
Held by you
The one person
I love most unyieldingly
In a death grip of never letting go.
I Love you through My Dreams
Jan 27, 2018, 6:15 PM
By: Yue Yitkbel ****

Used to be a personal favorite so I wanted to publish it, but since I haven't heard back from anyone, and I don't like it as much as anymore  I'll just post them.

(I wish I can pin posts here:
I think these are better poems of mine:
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/2646158/the-threads-between-every-you-and-me/
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/2618377/the-metamorphosis-of-a-bee/
 Aug 2018 Josh Cooper
Yitkbel
How do I tell if
You’re only a dream
Or my reality

Not by the ecstasy
Of coexistence
Simply standing next to you
Moments at a time
Yet,
Each second a lifetime of joy
So short lived, mere sparks
In my dreamless night
Yet, each of them
Brighter than a thousand suns
Bringing everlasting warmth
To the starless depth
Of my soul

But, by the intensity of my pain
When your flame suddenly
Extinguished within me
Within my reach

At that very moment
And forever after
There was
A hush
The silence of deafening screams
At war with one another
That annihilate my reverie
Of living

For you have taken with you
All of me
My words, my breath, my being
Ever stretched between a world
I struggle to remain within
And the senseless
Abyss

I feel every pinch
Every twinge
Every insufferable pull
Yet, I plead not for numbness

I savor this
Savor the intensity
Of this unbearable
Suffocating pain
Of longing

For, only then
I know
You are my reality
You can never be just a dream
With such profound
Suffering
 Aug 2018 Josh Cooper
Melissa S
Dream of me
I am real...
I am where smiles are made
and tears fade away
Where hope springs forth
Away from the darkness
of the earth

I am the glow of the moon
and all the stars in the sky
those who seek the light
shall have me as their guide

I am the red bird or butterfly you see
Just keep your eyes open... to find me
I am where tomorrow is coming
and hope always holds on
My darling
I am never truly gone....❤
I have been dreaming of my mother lately and do not want to wake up because it feels so real and I miss her so. I wrote this from her perspective writing to me
Not like her,
And
Not like him,
And
Not like you
  —I write!

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2016)
The warts are ugly
  the wrinkles deep

The flesh now sagging
  deprived of sleep

The eyesight failing
   the hearing gone

But words still call
  —from tomorrow’s song

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2016)
Are you the hero of your own
  dime novel

Are you the toy at the bottom
  of the ******* jacks box

Are you the name on the wall
  of the public bathroom

Are you the saline solution
  they use to detox

Are you that groove in the record
  that repeats over again

Are you a promise forgotten
  carried off by a friend

Are you a serial spectator
  whose ticket’s not punched

Are you a banquet disaster
  in search of your lunch

Is your mirrored reflection
  left empty and cold

Is the one option left you
  —forlorn but foretold

(Villanova Pennsylvania: August, 2018)
His funeral
  unattended

His pallbearers
—the written word

His gravesite
  an ashen memory

His legacy
  —in futures heard

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2016)
The only sin uncommitted
  —is the one unknown

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2016)
A strange thing happens
  once you’re as old as your heroes

The mystery less enchanting
  the romance nearly gone

A stranger thing happens
  when you outlive your heroes

The nuances shouting boldly
   —permission now won

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2016)
The night a gift
  though minus sleep

With dreams adrift
  and words to keep

Blankness woven
  connection spun

A poem born
  —dark on the run

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2016)
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