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 1215° 
Opal Black
A song is sung
A song is felt
Constantly heard,
From the chirps of birds
Birds dance
Birds sing
Emotions are felt
Through the song they sing

If you listen it’s there
If you feel it, It’s felt
But do are you really feeling it?
Do you really listen to the bird’s song?

A dance, A song
You watch as it plays along
Colors flash as pitch change
A song is just a song
While the birds sing
 996° 
Meggi
A flower behind the eye
Roots in the skin
Seeking water not spoiled by sweat and tears
The touch of my lover
The softening of thorns for her handling
The shade of branches for her slumbering
I grow gentle in her arms
Under her gaze
I grow further from the ground
Bloom and flourish and shriek for her
A flower behind the eye
Torn from it roots
Settled in a quiet place
Brushed softly behind her ear
 970° 
Yohanes
her smile glowing like a moonlight in the sky,
soft as feather, brighter than a star.
my eyes can't process how beautiful
all i can do is admire it

i asked the moon, “why do I feel this way?
why do the stars all dim everytime i saw her?”
it sighed, “because her light outshines the night
she’s not just beauty, she’s the reason why.”

“i wish i were beside her,” i sighed to the moon.
“what would you do?” it asked, softening its glow.
my heart beating fast, “just let her know
she’s my dream, and i want it to be true.”
 789° 
Amado Nervo
Yo no sé nada de la vida,
yo no sé nada del destino,
yo no sé nada de la muerte;
¡pero te amo!

Según la buena lógica, tú eres luz extinguida;
mi devoción es loca, mi culto, desatino,
y hay una insensatez infinita en quererte;
¡pero te amo!
 742° 
Rick
she disappeared into the shadows of the night,
skimming through the uproarious parties
like stone across the lake
until she sunk into
the gruesome arms
of another man
behind my sleeping back.

and there he was, pounding away
like some big dumb animal
at something I held sacred
as if bonds were meant to be broken
and boundaries were made permeable

and there she was,
taking it,
loving it,
enjoying it,
doing it to spite me
and knowing it would hurt.

and there I was, the last to know
in the dark circles of whispering
secrecy

it’s the all-too-familiar cycle
of passion and appetite;

swallowed by the underbelly of lust and
tormented by the foretaste of my presence

I can’t blame them,
I can’t blame myself,
it’s only nature
taking
its course.

and I can’t say this is written
about anyone specifically,

when it happened

far too many times.
 710° 
Alexandra
Attitudinal barriers
Halt the brilliance
Of a child with wings
 661° 
Brendan Enright
They tried and they failed,
to get this boat to sail,
Every-time they plugged a leak,
Another silent leak, ninja sneak,
And their sanity did reach a peak
The old have no instructions
And their anger reached a peak
Its the end of this antique boat
weathering old, abandoned coat.
 581° 
Malcolm
I don’t cry anymore
the salt ran dry.
I don’t look up
the sky stopped looking back.
I don’t believe
in believing.

Where are you now,
God of broken pages?
That book
full of thunder,
full of fire,
full of once.

Where are the miracles
when we need them
more than ever?
Silence
—louder than prayer.

You’ve
forsaken me
in my heart,
forsaken me
in my mind,
forsaken me
in my...

Why?
Copyright Malcolm Gladwin
April 2025
Forsaken me
 467° 
Marc Morais
I keep my love
in a locket of want—
a looped-back verse
with no clear track.

She is stitched in air
not flesh or fame—
a flare in the fog
too good to claim—
but I'm going to give it my all.

I read her smile
like open psalms misread—
each word devoured
each silence said—
sinking in deep.

She is a holy myth—
a touch I missed
a ghost in gloss
a good girl I can’t resist.

I bow to things
that never came
but not her—
I’ll light her shrine
I’ll sign my name.

She doesn’t knock
she doesn’t call.
She’s always in me
making me kneel fast—
I want her all.

This white crow I call
rapture in cathedral dresses—
just her—
and my devout heartbeat.
 443° 
Kay Lyn
Dandelions

So pretty you are
swaying in the wind
pretty dandelion owning
your own spring
Spring is here
each flower dancing in the wind
Your color is yellow golden
you are loved by the bees
One of nature's beauty you are to me

- Kay Lyn
Spring 🌼
 363° 
Kaiden
Sometimes i wonder:
Do bullies hurt too?
I hurt a person,
And immediately knew
That it feels worse than to be hurt,
Yet they do it anyway
With all of those mean words
They have to say.
One selfish act,
A comment or two,
But they never felt worse
Than hurting you.
I accidentally hurt my best friend yesterday. He had a really bad day, i didn't know about it, i and this one person made a comment about him in our discord server, not really knowing that it would hurt him. I apologized but he didn't respond yet. (also, if you can read this somehow, i'm really ******* sorry)
 353° 
rishita
Will you still hold me close if I tried to escape everything?
Or letting go will lead you to a more beautiful destination.
The last arc
 352° 
Nina
In
Telling you I miss you
won’t make me miss you less
but my god how much I just
want to tell you
that I miss you
when I breathe in
when I breathe out
 331° 
sierra
I look for you in every person I meet
Pieces
Fragments
An eye color or smile line
Your favorite song, movie
The scent of you
 318° 
Jack Turner
I said, "No,
it's my turn
to watch
you
burn."
 313° 
Lance Remir
All of my demons stayed quiet
Because we all loved listening to you
 313° 
Debbie
Within a single day's blink.
Fuschia buds blossom
an exquisitely pale pink.
Impatient branches wear
their now exotic veil.
The leaves felt ******
throbbing in the gale.
Wind ruffled petals,
Glisten with dew.
The stagnant empty winter
is now a voluptuous floral view.
The naked pink will call to you.
The blossoms on my crabapple tree.
 275° 
Marc Morais
A stone
cannot be broken
but bent inside—
its fault lines
only strain
in harsh weather.

It does not
try to lift
or roll away—
just taught
to keep
its hurt
under hard gray
quiet.

It will stay
where it fell—
move only
if you kick it
or push it
away—
feeling nothing
but your hurt.

What bleeds
in you
only makes me
a stronger
boulder—
don’t hurt
just be calm
and come lean
against me.
 224° 
Maryann I
The sun barely rises,
casting a soft glow across the table,
the air thick with the scent of syrup,
a warm, comforting embrace.
On my plate, the pancakes—
fluffy, golden stacks,
like little clouds kissed by the earth,
drizzled with dark, rich chocolate,
a bittersweet sweetness
clinging to the edges like memories.
Whipped cream swirls like soft cotton,
cascading in graceful heaps,
while strawberries, red as a fleeting sunset,
sit nestled atop like the last bloom
before winter’s breath.

A sip of hot chocolate,
dark and creamy,
curling steam rising like the breath of life,
whipped cream crowned with syrup,
a spoonful of warmth
that holds the promise of comfort,
a taste of home in every drop.

Each bite is a surrender,
the world softening,
blurring, fading with every chew.
The sweetness, the richness,
mingling with the faintest hint of finality—
my last meal, my last taste
of earth’s tender gifts.

As I eat, I watch the room,
the last sunrise casting long shadows,
its golden light touching things
that once held so much meaning—
a chair, a book, a photograph.
And I wonder if this moment,
this simple breakfast,
will be the last I ever know,
and if it’s enough
to carry me through
the final breath.

When its hard to swallow
Overcome by sorrow
Love defiance rings true

Wide awake to face tomorrow
reality overtakes you
Precondition to hate the truth

We won't accept the punishment
Angst alone is a testament
Rage against the machine
Right where I want to be

Displays what wants to be
Disregard my demeanor
Busy bringing my loved ones through the ringer
 217° 
Nurulika Noviya
Kau puisi indah pengisi kekosongan jiwa
Tapi kau pinta menukarnya dengan luka yang mendarah deras
Luka untuk benakku yang layu
Dapatkah kau rasakan perihnya? Hingga kau buat tangisku terkuras
Kau sentuh hati ini dengan kebohongan
Aku tersesat dalam jerat samudara kepicikan nuranimu
Kau ciptakan murka nan segunung lara di pijakan rapuhku
Hanya puisi singkat yang ditulis ketika masih SMA tahun 2011
 213° 
Kayla Eve
Boundless in my heart,
limitless in my desire.

Reach to me,
I’ll hold you.

I’ll walk through fire,
rock the boat,
make waves,
break chains,
cross lanes,
go insane.

Forever is scant,
I want more.
Copyright Kayla van Zyl, April 2025 ©️
 205° 
DENNY R ALLISON
Let me queue,
    you, into a great,
       decorating style.
A bedroom, where,
  you're eyes, close
     and reopen, to
         a smile.
To my grandmother it was a picture of Jesus, rescuing two children from a storm. My mother said it was pictures, of me and my sister. For me, it is pictures of places, my wife, and I have been fortunate enough to visit together. I hope you have, or soon, find yours.
 202° 
Wasil
Eyes from the sahara
As the world grafts onto my twin
A cloak of the untrue
We sip from the same water
Yet the fluid differs

Eyes from the eclipse
As blindness molds my phantom
Left stained by the garden of grants
Pressed from the same fruit
Yet not the same flavour

Eyes from the cataract
As the lens distorts myself
Suspended upon the bridge of ephemera
Blessed with the whole
Yet shifting beyond their gaze
 192° 
Soul Searching
I’m standing here, outside your door

Tell me what’s behind your secret war

Take my hand, guide me through your storm

Lead me to the place where we’re reborn


Don’t cry, love me till the morning light

Make this moment feel like it’s all right

Tell me I won’t have to leave tonight

Pretend we’re safe from the world’s sharp bite


Hold me close, don’t let this slip away

Keep me here, in the silence we’ll stay

Forget the time, forget the coming day

In your heart, I’ll find a place to lay
 187° 
Helen
fabric

became mutual agreement

enough to make us silently lie.
 182° 
Akriti
All that is beautiful is not treasure.
All that is broken is not trash .
Ask any broken heart
It will tell
It is beauty that breaks hearts.
 181° 
kris
When there is nothing left to say
And you don't know what to pray--
God knows what's in your heart,
The Spirit did He impart.
When the words don't come, the Spirit reads your heart.
 179° 
amrutha
i light the oil lamp
flame tongue flickers
 154° 
Rin
The sun has risen,
can you hear?
the songs of the morning birds.

Life begins to wake,
the gentle breeze,
blows softly against the trees.
A lovely view awaits.

The orange sky,
the feeling of life!
a beautiful sunrise it is.
:D
 124° 
Monique
Prayer, I recognize your power
Yet I feel so unworthy.
I kneel & open my mouth
...yet nothing comes out.
I'm on my way to the mountain
...but with nothing to say.
 101° 
Maryann I
I’m tired of loving like a dog—
all wide-eyed loyalty, waiting,
tail wagging for a love that lingers
just out of reach.

Tired of chasing footsteps
that never turn back,
of curling at your feet
only to be kicked away.

I fetch your affection,
drop it at your feet,
but you throw it further
each time.

I was born with teeth,
with a growl in my throat,
yet I soften myself
to fit in your hands.

No more.

Let me love like the wind—
wild, unchained,
touching only those
who welcome the storm.
 89° 
Asuka
The flower needs rest,
so winter tucks it beneath the earth,
letting it sleep until spring.

The sun needs rest,
so the clouds and rain embrace it,
shielding its warmth for another day.
Take care, breathe easy, and give yourself the rest you deserve. Rest well, recharge, and remember, like the moon, even brilliance needs the night to shine again.

— A gentle reminder that even nature pauses to gather strength.
 79° 
Lyle
some people's footsteps are loud
they want everyone to know that they have entered
or perhaps they have no reason to hide
They strike the ground first with their heel
you can always hear them approach

but mine?
my footsteps are silent
I glide across without a sound
no one needs to know that I am here
I have reason to hide
I tread first with the pads of my feet
you will never hear me approach
 69° 
Poet
/_\
I used to draw on my arm all the time
Nothing big or elaborate
Just a triangle
One triangle
Then I wouldn’t hear the end of it
Everyone complaining
Ink poisoning
Future punk
What’s next, a motorcycle?
So I stopped
I stopped drawing that little triangle on my wrist
Right above my pulse point
But with it
I
Stopped
L I v I n g.
A triangle was supposed to be the strongest shape
It was supposed to make me strong
But I wasn’t even strong enough
To let it stay
Just a small note I didn’t think would be obvious if I didn’t say anything the “I v I” in “l I v I n g“ is supposed to make it look like the ‘v’ is trapped by the two ‘I’s
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