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 Mar 2015 a
Poppy Johnson
devoid
 Mar 2015 a
Poppy Johnson
we only feel so empty
because we left
little pieces of ourselves
in everything that
we once loved;
once lost.
 Mar 2015 a
j
sunset
 Mar 2015 a
j
i'm a sunset
i have my days where i am not the brightest
i have my days where i never want to stop
i have my days where i am pale and calm
i have my days where i am bright pink and booming
   the days i beg to be seen
i am not always the most beautiful
i am not always noticed
sometimes i am shadowed by dark clouds hanging over my head
sometimes i am unobstructed and full of majesty
i am not always the best, you will not always like me
i am a sunset
i am temporary
i disappear and am born again
 Mar 2015 a
i am miss brightside
He’s no musician.
He doesn't make melodies through violin and guitar strings.
Yet he composed, haunting ballads in dramatic tempos,
Rhyming every lyric,
Harmonizing, making it dance in a musical euphony.

He’s no seamster.
Yet he cuts and he traces,
plain words and printed phrases;
Then he sews and he weaves it skilfully,
into a lovely concrete poetry.

He’s no painter.
He just has a palette of pigmented letters,
splashing colorful lines on his blank canvass.
A blast of contained evocative memories,
Streaking and shading mixtures of kaleidoscopic imagery.

He’s no storyteller.
Yet from him, I heard the most romantic tales-
One, of the moon and its lover sea.
Reciprocating shy glances, whispering I love you’s,
while kissing behind the sprawling mountains.
Though the dawn will come, they do not fear.
For after the majestic tribal sun leaves his stage,
There’ll the lovers be once again reunited.

He's no poet.**
Yet he writes--
stanzas and verses.
And oh! it revives,
every strand of emotion,
every sense of intuition,
Inside me.
A lyrical perception,
Sheer perfection,
Arousing perpetual reactions,
From me.
I am not good at this. I just want to express my pure gratitude, appreciation and awe for you.

"I am no poet. Never thought of myself as one. Just a guy dabbling clumsily in words"
Yet even, everything you do amaze me.


Thank you all wonderful people on Hello Poetry. I just realized this moment that this poem was featured as Daily poem yesterday.  I have never imagined any of my work will be posted as daily. Thank you all for the hearts, re-post,share, comments and messages. You really made my heart and soul so happy. :)
And most of all, thanks to the man who inspire me to write this one. :)
(04.14.2015)
 Mar 2015 a
Lachrymose and Lies
The mind commits suicide long before the body does
 Mar 2015 a
KB
She was the train you missed by a second
You look longingly at her direction long after she was gone

She was the coffee that spilt before you could take a sip
The scent of her and the stain on the carpet remains to remind you of what you lost

She was the flower you planted that withered before it bloomed
You are always left wondering how beautiful your life would have been with her around

She was the card you didn't call when you had a strong hunch that you could have won
She was the chance you didn't take

If you had only rushed to meet her...
If you had only handled her right...
If you had only given her more attention...
If you had only been more brave...
 Mar 2015 a
Chaos
No Escape
 Mar 2015 a
Chaos
She is fighting a battle
That can't be won
A war of words
And she's trying to run
But she can't escape

She is fighting the demons
Under her bed
They whirl their way
Around her head
And she's screaming in pain
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