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 2649° 
Maddy
Some are most creative and beyond comprehension
For they are that talented
Some have that magic naturally
Some hoping to create and find their way
Their impact makes us better writers
You can agree to disagree
Just read and enjoy
The pleasure of reading and enjoying the talent is so much better
than the so -called talent we tune into to see
Not asking you to tune out but tune in to what happens here
Hello Poetry Poets
Thanks
 1665° 
K J McCarthy
The manifestation of matter is divinities cosmic intent
Our Universe is efficient in its means to cultivate life forms
Harnessed by consciousness, and fixed within an organic vessel
Each peculiar anatomical organism has an individual perception, and from a distinct focal point
We experience life subjectively.
 620° 
Maryann I
They call her names,
send their curses through a screen.
She blocks them,
but the words slip through the cracks,
curl beneath her skin.

She scrubs her face,
but the insults don’t wash away.
She sleeps,
but the whispers slither through her dreams.

Years pass.
The usernames are gone.
The accounts are deleted.
The laughter has moved on.

But the words—
the words still stay.
This poem plays with the idea that words, once spoken (or typed), never truly go away.
 378° 
Joss Lennox
connection begins,
where fear ends.
don't be afraid to put your creativity out there!
 369° 
Poetato
I was just a little girl
Watching chaos unravel, helplessly
Confusion became a daily routine
Silence, my only defense
And I honed the art of observing pain.

Day by day
I saved up pieces of disappointment
Until the jar began to crack
Spilling exhaustion
Hardening into quiet rebellion
Sharpening into well-trained disgust.

We stopped looking, even beneath the bed
Where is the sorry we deserved?
Where is the responsibility you clung to so tightly?
Where is all the change you once promised?

But whatever
You're here, technically
And us?
We've mastered the art of needing nothing from you.
I'm sorry. It's tiring to keep it all alone. We tried to talk. But you're the only one who always ends up being the victim, as if nothing ever happened.
 307° 
Jia En
Don't pretend it isn't still stuck
At the back of your mind
Don't blame it on bad luck
You know you're the reason you're
Falling behind
Couldn't you have done more
Held on for a bit longer
Been a little bit stronger
Well now look at who the crowd’s
Laughing at; you screamed a bit too loud
For the pain you've gone through
Why’re you
So weak? Answer me
Seriously
Look me in the eye and tell me
You aren't just a mess sitting in
The corner. They told you you'd win
In life; the only thing you can do
Now is prove them right, you
Know what I mean?
Stop lying to yourself. You haven't seen
Worse. You know
You're fine. So go.
All it takes
Is one step off the edge to make
History. One last breath.
[The admin has kicked ‘Natural Death'.]
 242° 
Tuta
I was on the edge
not of a street,
but of everything.
The kind of tired that sleep can’t touch.
The kind of stillness that feels like disappearing.

And then
a glance.
Soft, unplanned.
A stranger with blue eyes that didn’t ask,
just saw.

No words, no story,
only silence between us
that somehow said,
“Stay.”

One stop away
that’s all.
But in that moment,
it could have been another universe.

I didn’t fall in love.
I fell into the possibility
that maybe, just maybe,
life isn’t done with me yet.
 212° 
Daniel A Gabbard
….
….
The door drew fate.
A face amidst the darkness?
My anxiety inflates.


A passing day draws in darkness,
each day an eye sees me.
My senses urge, trying to decree;
For It finally began,
It now watches, it can now see.



I have fled my place,
But will it ever follow?
I closed the lights,
lifted them in darkness,
My feelings ever hollow.


I may be crazy,
But this is forever true.

It was never like this,
It was my fault.
I had defeated my own nightmare no less,
But my actions caused it to bless.
A cage in a basement I made,
It turned that to its charade.

Now I shall find something to confront,
It shall never leave my front.
An existence that shouldn’t exist.
I shall annihilate that, fist with fist.

An old shadow, with yellow flaming eyes.
I looked in past at time, I try,
Four preceding angelic numbers of time,
Guided times hand to defeat;
It was something, my greatest feat.
The nightmare that I caged.

𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘥
𝘵𝘰 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵.

For I shall now figure this cursed time,
Else I will meet an inevitable demise.
My very own.
 209° 
indi
a stream is a river is a sea is an ocean
a cycle of water breaks free from the same waters
and if anger is the conditioned emotion
we follow same circles, same eldest daughters
written dec 2021
 194° 
JA Perkins
I could describe
everything about you
having never met you -
recite your words
like a Silverstein poem,
sketch every
imperfection, and
feel every embrace.

So believe me
when I say you're
the one I've always
wanted and that
I loved you before
we met..
A beautiful thought
 193° 
F
II.
And I guess there is a truth
in what they say.

That you will break my heart
in many ways.

And you did, so well,
in rhythmic tunes.

You have broken my heart
too good, so soon.
 189° 
Rafael Alberti
Rosa de Alberti allá en el rodapié
del mirador del cielo se entreabría,
pulsadora del aire y prima mía,
al cuello un lazo blanco de moaré.

El barandal del arpa, desde el pie
hasta el bucle en la nieve, la cubría.
Enredando sus cuerdas, verdecía,
alga en hilos, la mano que se fue.

Llena de suavidades y carmines,
fanal de ensueño, vaga y voladora,
voló hacia los más altos miradores.

¡Miradla querubín de querubines,
del vergel de los aires pulsadora.
Pensativa de Alberti entre las flores!
 162° 
Fumbletongue
If you have to lie, then deep inside,
You already know the truth you hide.
The words you twist, the stories bend,
Can never heal, can never mend.

A shadow creeps with every tale,
A weight that grows with every veil.
The truth, once bright, is lost in gray,
Each step you take leads you away.

You know you’re wrong with every breath,
Each word you speak, a quiet death.
If truth is gone, then so are we-
A bond can’t live on false debris.

If you must lie to make it through,
Then face the truth: it’s not worth you.
I think most often we lie to ourselves the most.
 158° 
Souleymane
أردت أن يكون هذا العيد عيدنا
عشقت هذه اللحظه منذ فراقنا
الكلام معك يا سيدة لا يساويه شيأا
فما بالك بأن تصبحي سيدتي؟
أم أهويت الفراق مرة أخرى؟
حبا لك قبلت بعدك من عيوني يا عيوني
فحكا لي قلبي قصاءد مشاعري
و ذبت كتلك الشمعة، تنيرني و أنا أواجه عقلي
ينصحني بنسياك فسألته كيف أنسى روحي
لأنك يا سيدة كرءة ثالثة
.توقفني عند الشدة
Maybe she'll come back one day, until it happen i only have my pen to never forget her.
 154° 
Iskra
Someone looked into my heart
As if I spoke my mind through him
Someone touched my hand and felt
Beyond insensate gloves of skin
Someone looked behind my face
His recognition crystalline
Someone looked into my heart
Someone noticed me within
 149° 
Heather
Why is it there is an invisible thread between all women
An understanding no words are required for
The fear, the pressure, the internal clock
Shout out Charli
 140° 
Lostling
Dear Friends,

I'm sorry.
I'm sorry for my apathy
and empathy, my lack of words. I'm sorry
for thinking of you as r-
replacements for... everyone
and everything I lost.
I'm sorry for
being
the way I am, that I'm not
what I used to be

I'm-
I'm sorry
 137° 
Mario Luzi
"Credi che il tuo sia vero amore? Esamina
a fondo il tuo passato" insiste lui
saettando ben addentro
la sua occhiata di presbite tra beffarda e strana.
E aspetta. Mentre io guardo lontano
ed altro non mi viene in mente
che il mare fermo sotto il volo dei gabbiani
sfrangiato appena tra gli scogli dell'isola,
dove una terra nuda si fa ombra
con le sue gobbe o un'altra preparata a semina
si fa ombra con le sue zolle e con pochi fili.
"Certo, posso aver molto peccato"
rispondo infine aggrappandomi a qualcosa,
sia pure alle mie colpe, in quella luce di brughiera.
"Piangere, piangere dovresti sul tuo amore male inteso"
riprende la sua voce con un fischio
di raffica sopra quella landa passando alta.
L'ascolto e neppure mi domando
perché sia lui e non io di là da questo banco
occupato a giudicare i mali del mondo.
"Può darsi" replico io mentre già penso ad altro,
mentre la via s'accende scaglia a scaglia
e qui nel bar il giorno ancora pieno
sfolgora in due pupille di giovinetta che si sfila il grembio
per le ore di libertà e l'uomo che le ha dato il cambio
indossa la gabbana bianca e viene
verso di noi con due bicchieri colmi,
freschi, da porre uno di qua uno di là sopra il nostro tavolo.
 133° 
Clay Micallef
I have spent days
beside you and a
thousand nights
alone, dreaming
on the edge of
spineless books
too afraid to jump!
now I find myself,
drinking, dancing,
laughing with the
forgotten writers,
wrapped up tightly
with all their solitary
words, words scribbled
in relatable misery, I have
fallen in unrecognisable
love with their loss,
their lust, their insane
style of adventure, their
relentless drunkenness,
their sorrow, their suffering,
their almost unbelievable
grief …
Clay.M
 122° 
Mathew Kohnen
Truths are axioms to
Relinquish the
Unknown, but they build a
Trojan Horse where in
Hides reality ready to
Surprise and conquer with doubt
 112° 
Amulya Sharma
My hair had enough breakages just as my heart.
 109° 
Geof Spavins
A Sunday afternoon unfolds, soft and unhurried, like a ribbon untied. Malbec, velvet and dark, spilling its whispers into the glass.

The film begins, its story weaving, a tapestry of shadows and light. Characters speak of love, loss, and the ache of dreams unfound; their words mirrored in crimson ripples.

Each sip a revelation, smooth as silk, each scene a moment etched in time. The wine hums of distant vines, of lands kissed by sun and shadow, where laughter mingles with the soil.

Outside, the world hums faintly, but here, a stillness lingers, sacred, a communion of story and sip. A Sunday framed in simplicity, wrapped in the richness of Malbec’s embrace. And so you linger—until the credits roll.

And then...
 108° 
Trinidad Apodaca
Dawn did tell me
It’s deepest secret
As the morning
Did put it to rest

And the morning
Came to seek
What it was
Dawn had said

But I was stranded
And frozen in time
As the afternoon
Left morning behind
 105° 
Self
It feels like I'm stuck in a curse,
Falling too hard, and always falling first.
Maybe it’s the way I love,
Maybe love isn’t meant for me,
But is it so wrong to want it, to want to be seen?
Let this curse be undone, let there be a turn,
Shift the stars, change the script,
Let the love I give finally return.
For once, let it be me who’s found,
The one who's chosen, the one unbound.
 104° 
Pavel
forever is
an excuse to operate with impunity
forever is
a long dead galaxy
forever is
a lover's attempt to lessen their offenses
forever is
our promise in it's final stages
 104° 
Fatimah odunmbaku
Sometimes I feel an overwhelming amount of hatred,
Sometimes I hate myself,
Sometimes I hate the people around me,
Sometimes I wake up and I wish I slept forever,
Sometimes I lose the urge to live,
Sometimes I merely exist,
Sometimes I feel sad,
Sometimes I feel angry,
But I hate it when I’m sad,
Sometimes I think bad thoughts,
Sometimes I feel sad,
But maybe it is okay,
Sometimes I don’t feel okay,
Maybe it is okay to not be okay,
Sometimes I want to cry,
Sometimes I want to disappear,
Sometimes I feel awful,
But maybe it is okay to be sad,
Maybe we all feel sad,
And just maybe it is okay.
 102° 
Yu
your trust is truthfully misplaced
my acts, are falsely praised
i feel my brain being stretched
from the inside out
my rotting flesh
has an unbearable stench
the squelch of my remains
my blood, a liquid courage
or an act of self-sacrificing cowardice?
(6 April 2025)
Flowers simmer
In summer, a relief
April showers
When the last snowflakes
Gently descend in early spring
I think about the north country
When the dying drafts of cold air
Solemnly kiss me farewell
I think about you
How great is Dylan?
 95° 
Nat Lipstadt
market report: spinning on an axis of complexity

phrase captures and enraptures, buried deep in one of the
countless market reports that arrive every minute out of date by the time they press the end/send button but this rises
up from the forged gorge throat and all the rest falls away

spinning on an axis of complexity

sticks like Elmer's glue, white viscous, good for paper & skin,
cause you knew precision revision incision instantaneous,
they are intended for your eyes only, pasted to your eyes,
tinged tongue screaming you man, you poem
there is no
difference, for both at 1:55am 
 where time is sleep verboten,  
when words are blood platelets in a mystery entitled

spinning on an axis of complexity*

human must eat
human must work
human must love
human must sort the juggling orbs,
too much new information constant and brain incapacitated

while falling-spinning
when eyes now fully glued shut by the
complexity of clashing algorithms
writing this market report on the state of me,
the passionate impartial analyst who boldly reveals, he proclaims
he owns stock in himself and issues a
sell recommendation

the complexity-situation trending signals crash a-coming,

and at 1:59am after composing this hissy fit writ,
he downgrades the official outlook to sell and
lies down on the kitchen floor and laughs
with the angel dudes eating bagels and holding their sides,
cause they have  been running a short position up in heaven*

6/22/17 2:05am
nyc
 94° 
Belicia Salas
i am so sick with missing you
my body aches in your absence
all of the loveliness in the world reminds me of you from kind smiles of strangers
to the sweet songs of the birds in the mornings
you’re everywhere
you’re everything
 81° 
joaquin
browsing through her trove of memories

wanting to have been a part of her past

so that i could have made it better
would I have made it better?

or would the mere displacement already set her on a more favorable course?
 78° 
yndn
Stop searching for places where you feel like you need to fit in, especially when you truly don’t belong there.

Stop seeking love from people just to fill the emptiness inside you.

You cannot expect to receive something from others if you are unable to give it yourself.

Simply put, you cannot give what you do not have.

So, learn to appreciate and love yourself first.
 73° 
Tommy Smith
she woke my mind
with a consciousness
  undefined,
moving like a slow kiss in the rain
she conquered my demon’s reign
and became,
yeah
she became my mind unrefined
and
a slow kiss in the rain..
 71° 
RMatheson
I'm still
just a little
boy
wondering,
"What happened?"
 71° 
kkama
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FIND A REST +27787575234 TOP WITH ALL LOVE SPELL CASTER IN FLORIDA, JACKSONVILLE, GEORGIA, ATLANTA, MACON
 71° 
Andrew
Tough times are ahead,
but the good ones
always outweigh the bad
 69° 
Asuka
Something clutches my chest—
a ghost-hand, tight as ivy on stone.
My heart, a trembling bird,
flutters at the edge of a storm.

The center of me burns—
a dying sun folding into itself,
pulling all light
into a single, aching point.

And there—
a tide of shadows calls,
dragging me down
where even dreams forget to rise.
The poem expresses the weight of an overwhelming inner pain—like being slowly pulled into darkness. It captures the silent struggle of a heart on the edge, where light fades and emotions become too heavy to hold.
 69° 
Thea
In a world devoid of meaning, she wandered alone,
A soul forsaken, lost in the void, a heart of stone.
Her eyes, once bright, now dimmed, like stars in the night,
Reflecting the emptiness that consumed her light.

She walked with steps of lead, her feet heavy with despair,
Her laughter a hollow echo, her hopes a distant, fading air.
Time, like a thief, stole away her dreams, leaving only ash,
And darkness crept in, a slow and silent crash.

It didn't come all at once, but trickled in like sand,
Grain by grain, until the light was lost in the land.
Her smile, a forced and fragile thing, like a blade held sideways,
Couldn't pierce the shadows that enveloped her, like a shroud that wouldn't fade.

She didn't scream, she didn't cry, she simply stopped shining,
Her light extinguished, like a flame that's lost its spark, its meaning.
The world around her lost its shape, its color, its sound,
And she was left with nothing, but the echoes of a hollow ground.

But then, one day, an ember appeared, a spark of light,
A small, yet fierce, flame that flickered in the dark of night.
It didn't promise, it didn't call, it simply existed,
A tiny, glowing point, that beckoned her to follow, to resist.

She reached out, with a hand she thought was lost,
And touched the ember, feeling its warmth, its gentle cost.
It didn't move away, it didn't fade, it stayed,
A steady, pulsing light, that guided her through the shades.

She followed, step by step, through memories like thorns,
Through fear like fog, that shrouded her, and kept her from being reborn.
The ember led her, through the dark, through the pain,
Until she saw, a glimmer of light, a world reborn, a new refrain.

The darkness peeled back, like a curtain, like a veil,
And air, sweet, warm, alive, brushed against her skin, like a gentle gale.
She blinked, and the world bloomed, like a garden in spring,
Colors she had never seen, spilled from the sky, like a rainbow's wing.

She stood, trembling, on the edge of something new,
A world of wonder, a world of beauty, a world anew.
And there, in the gold-soft hush of morning, she met a heart,
A heart as gentle, as soothing, as the morning breeze, a brand new start.

He didn't ask for her story, he just listened to the silence,
Between her words, where the truth resided, where the pain existed.
He didn't try to fix the cracks, he just held them, like a work of art,
And showed her, that even broken, she was beautiful, a masterpiece, a work in progress, a brand new start.

His laughter was rain on a window, his voice, a gentle stream,
That flowed through her, like a river, and washed away her pain, her scream.
His eyes, like the morning sun, shone bright, and warm, and kind,
And when he smiled at her, she saw herself, reflected, redefined.

She, who once flinched from affection, like a wounded thing,
Now leaned toward his kindness, like a flower, that needs the sun's warm wing.
She let herself soften, let her hands learn to hold,
Without shaking, without fear, without the weight of her past, her gold.

He showed her, that love didn't have to be loud,
To be real, to be true, to be a love that's proud.
It could be the quiet way, he stayed, even when she tried to run,
The way he said nothing, when her fear said everything, when her heart was undone.

The way he called her beautiful, not to convince her,
But because he simply saw her, like a work of art, a masterpiece, a treasure to discover.
He saw her, like a sunrise, like a sunset, like a work of art,
A beauty, that's rare, a beauty, that's unique, a beauty, that's a work in progress, a brand new start.

She still gets scared, still waits for the light to leave,
But now, she holds his hand, and the journey, is a different beat.
It's been a journey, of magic, stitched into the mundane,
Of coffee cups, and stargazing, of midnight confessions, and slow dances, in messy kitchens, in the rain.

It's been a journey, of missteps, and meltdowns,
Of moments, she nearly ran, but he was there, to catch her, to hold her, to love her.
He's been there, through it all, through the laughter, and the tears,
Through the fears, and the doubts, through the moments, that seemed to last for
It's a long one, a bit like a story of sorts but I hope you all like it, I got inspired after watching numerous movies in the past two weeks and I've wanted to write based on that.
Hope you all love it and that you all have that special someone in your life
 68° 
nvinn fonia
Given the arithmetic sequence:
f (1) = 4; f (n) = f (n - 1) + 3. Find f (5).
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