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 891Β° 
Marc Morais
We see ourselves
as a house of mirrorsβ€”
each reflection warps
to fit its frame

What else can we doβ€”
we trim the edges
smooth out the lightβ€”
If the curve is wrong
we bend our sights

Do I add too muchβ€”
a borrowed shadow
stolen tints and mismatched colors
remove too littleβ€”
leave out the seam

We are never as we are
only as we fit
within what we let others seeβ€”
patched by memory
tilted to surviveβ€”
from shame
from fears
from the raging battle
of wanting to hide and be seen
all at onceβ€”
never finding balance

I am tired
of self-adjustingβ€”
I want to get caught up in the rain
with someone who can walk
through mirrors
 736Β° 
From the ashes
I've never written a limerick.
Thinking of it makes me sick.
Better a sonnet
or a woman upon it.
Maybe, I'll just play with my ****.
lol.  Just having fun.  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ICWIGqf62Kw
poetry reading on you tube by Thomas W. Case
 696Β° 
Cheryl Ann Warner
Give me your heart
And I’ll give you mine
Give me your heart
And I can see
Give me your heart
And it will be me
 558Β° 
Daniel Irwin Tucker
So many things that
words can never say
                β€’
Too many words that
just get in the way
                β€’
Β©2025 Daniel Irwin Tucker
 443Β° 
Vianne Lior
Soft hush
a lilac hush,
spilling from heaven’s cufflinks.

Dust-throated wind,
draped in violet lace,
forgets how to whisper.

Once,
a petal kissed my wrist,
feather-light, sugar-spun.
(It melted before I could love it.)

Beneath the boughs
time folds like an origami swan.
A child presses footprints into fallen silk,
calls for lullabies.

Glittering
a secret only the butterflies know,
written in ultraviolet sighs.

Stay.
Stay.

But the season is shifting,
jacaranda knows no permanence.

A lilac hush
soft hush
dissolving into sky.

The ground is a love letter
written in violet, waiting for rain.
 430Β° 
Kaiden
You're like a safety pin.
Holding onto life for me
When i no longer can.
To this one special person.
 407Β° 
Megan E Hoffman
What draws me in, to this?

Is it love, or something twistedβ€”
Said a mother to her daughter
It's so hard to tell the difference

                            But please;
                                     I need to know the difference

"
I didn't understand then
And I won't pretend to know much more now;
All I can do is try to not be angry
                          
                            And at that, I'll fail.
                                                           Β­        But I'll learn

"
I used to believe in the world, with an innocent infatuation for its goodness

Now I believe, with a knowing compassion for its faults

...

I think things that are perfect are easy to love;

         We meet God in our love for that which is not
from my poetry book, πŸ“– Biting Thorns Off Roses
 361Β° 
alison
you cannot just walk in and out of my life.
I am not a door.
I am not a robot, so do not treat me as if my feelings don't matter, because I'm human, not anything else.
what else is new
 356Β° 
cassandra
and if one day
you decide to stop calling
i’ll still be leaving my phone
with the sound on
for the night
 341Β° 
Mina
πšˆπšŽπšŠπš‘ 𝙸 πšŠπš–, πš πš‘πšŠπš'𝚜 πš—πšŽπš .
πšƒπš‘πš’πšœ πšπš’πš–πšŽ πš’πš'𝚜 πšπš’πšπšπšŽπš›πšŽπš—πš, πš’πš'𝚜 πš‘πš˜πš  πšπš’πš–πšŽ πšπš•πšŽπš .
πš†πš’πš•πš• 𝙸 𝚊𝚐𝚎 πš˜πš—πšŽ 𝚍𝚊𝚒 πšŠπš—πš πš πš˜πš—πšπšŽπš› πš πš‘πšŽπš›πšŽ πš‘πšŠπšœ πš–πš’ πš•πš’πšπšŽ πšπš˜πš—πšŽ.
πš†πš’πš•πš• πš’ πšŽπšŸπšŽπš— πš–πšŠπš”πšŽ πš’πš πš˜πš•πš, πš†πš’πš•πš• πš’ πšŽπšŸπšŽπš— πš–πš˜πšŸπšŽ πš˜πš—.
π™Ύπš•πš πš™πšŽπš˜πš™πš•πšŽ πšœπšŒπšŠπš›πšŽ πš–πšŽ πš πš’πšπš‘ πšπš‘πšŽπš’πš› πšŠπšπšŸπš’πšŒπšŽ.
πšƒπš‘πšŽπš’ πš–πšŠπš”πšŽ πš–πšŽ πšπšŽπšŽπš• πš•πš’πš”πšŽ 𝙸'πš– πš™πš•πšŠπš’πš’πš—πš πš–πš’ πš•πš’πšπšŽ πš πš’πšπš‘ πšπš’πšŒπšŽ.
π™½πš˜πš  𝙸'πš– πšƒπš˜πš˜ πšœπšŒπšŠπš›πšŽπš 𝚝𝚘 πšŽπš—πš“πš˜πš’ πš’πš πšŠπš—πš πš›πš˜πšžπš.
π™±πšžπš 𝙸 πšŒπšŠπš—'𝚝 πš‘πšŽπš•πš™ πšπš‘πšŽ πšπšŽπšŽπš•πš’πš—πš 𝚘𝚏 πš–πš’πšœπšœπš’πš—πš 𝚘𝚞𝚝.
πšƒπš‘πšŽπš’ say πš’πš˜πšžπšπš‘ πš’s πšπš•πšŽπšŽπšπš’πš—πš, πš’πšŽπšŠπš‘ πš—πš˜ πšœπš‘πš’πš.
𝙸 πšπšŽπš•πš πš’πš 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚒 πš‹πšŽπšπš˜πš›πšŽ πš’ πšŒπš˜πšžπš•πš πšŽπšŸπšŽπš— πšŒπš˜πš–πš–πš’πš.
πš†πš’πš•πš• πš’ πšŽπšŸπšŽπš› πš•πš˜πš˜πš” πš‹πšŠπšŒπš” πšŠπš—πš 𝚜𝚊𝚒 "πšƒπš‘πšŠπš 𝚠𝚊𝚜 πš–πš’πš—πšŽ"
π™Ύπš› πš“πšžπšœπš πš πšŠπšπšŒπš‘ πšπš›πš˜πš– 𝚊 πšπš’πšœπšπšŠπš—πšŒπšŽ 𝚊𝚜 πš’ πš›πšžπš— 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 πšπš’πš–πšŽ
I have a full beard at 16
 286Β° 
Lance Remir
When we crossed paths again
The only intimacy that was shared
Were our shadows overlapping
And even then
Yours was the first to leave
 274Β° 
Cassandra Livingston
What if two souls of symphonic stanza
With hearts full of haikus' hope
Met right here on Hello Poetry
By reading what the other wrote.

They'd send messages of meter
With affectionate allusions
This couldn't get any sweeter
Free verses with no conclusions

A poem crafted with emotions true
Was sent to one of the two last night.
It wants to say, "I love you more than words."
But instead reads, "I love the way you write."

They'll figure out in time that they're meant to be together
And I am sure that they'll make the cutest couple(t) ever!
Two poets are almost always meant to be
Especially if they meet on Hello Poetry!
 256Β° 
Nina
You
You still do to me
what spring does
with the cherry trees

you do it
in every season
my spring
all year long
 237Β° 
hannah
I,
I
I am
I am me
I am the collective
I am my mother’s laugh
I am my father’s forgiveness
I am my brother’s wish
I am my sister’s soul
I am my pride
I am my ego
I am me
I am
I
 203Β° 
Still Smiling
It's been a while since I heard from you,
Not a single message, nor a call came through.
Still, I keep my phone close to me,
Waiting for a notificationβ€”that pops your name on it.

"You must be busy," that's what my heart whispers,
And so, I'll wait till it beats no longer.
Just don't tell me your promise was a lie,
Or else, a part of me would die.
Few promises keeps the relation alive even if it feels like it has died.
 202Β° 
Dom
Cat-like in the way she sways
I am in awe of her-
Sensual little movements
Delicate confident strides
She wears a smile
Like contour-
Or
A
Ruby red lip.
Her eyes are emeralds
Piercing through atoms
Chasing souls like mice,
And with a glance -
I am caught in her claws, a toy.
 195Β° 
Lenora Mira
Like the ticking of a time bomb
Waiting for the payoff
The gift, or the stone
Gold or indigo
Weighing the scales
In your head, in your heart
The decision is already made.
Risking hope, waiting days
In time, your debts will be paid.
 194Β° 
sena
today i turned 17
another year onto my life
another candle on the cake;
closer to being an adult
or
closer to my death
my perception of aging has always been obscured
unsurety fills me not knowing what lies ahead
but i no longer want to live "unsure"
im determined to live this last year of being adult-free ;
with no worries, no doubts
to live surely in everything i do
ill update again in 365 days.
i want to be 16 forever
 171Β° 
Jessica B
Someone once asked me…
β€œSo, what have you learned so far?”
_

β€œThat there’s so much more.”
                                      -JB
β™₯️
#As the Stars fly by…..
 165Β° 
Daniel A Gabbard
The line between madness,
The line between normality,
The price to pay for loneliness;
I ought to pay with sincerity.

In a world of madness,
The normal are insane,
The right are arcane,
And the abused are ridiculed by sadness.
I ought these days to go aflame,
For now, my madness, needs no blame.
There is no notes to be.
 164Β° 
nivek
sweet love, sweet lover
welling up to eternity
- Holy Spirit forever.
 164Β° 
Ami Mathur
From the eyes of the North.
Watched a festival of a new landβ€”his new innings.
A festival telling a story of new beginnings.
A new yug (year), a new adi (beginning),
Together we call it Ugadi.

Eyes linger after seeing a traditional dish,
A full circle of lifeβ€”it tastes like a blissful wish.
With ingredients similar to what life offersβ€”
Situations and moments, many.

It tells us to keep a smile like jaggery,
Even in situations that bring agony.
Life is tough and bitter like neem,
Yet necessary for growth and moving upstream.

If you feel gloomyβ€”a sour tamarind,
Always remember, even in that,
You will find a blessing of the reverend.

Have a willβ€”a strong one,
That makes your challenges look silly.
Be like the dishβ€”spicy, like green chili.

Salty moments will pass away,
Just believe in yourself.
A single step forward will make them swayβ€”far away.

If you take a bite of raw mango,
Life will give you surprises.

I witnessed a celebration,
Stuck in awe.
Prayers humble, and performances fewβ€”
I felt that felicity in this city new.

I witness a celebration -
Stuck in awe.
Prayers humble and performances few
I felt that felicity in this city-new.
It's a festival celebrating a Indian new year- a celebration similar to Gudi padwa
Since I moved to a new city,
A city - humble and colourful  
Here is my version of experience for this festival.
 154Β° 
McKinley Flynt
Oh dark eyes
With skin sagging mounts
Feed me your love
If you would remain open.

Cherish your soul
It's tired and dark
I'll feed it my love
If I could bear witnessing it.

Curtains closed
In your bedroom
And I would knock
If you would answer.

You should open your eyes
Open your soul
Open your window.
Because I would give you a world's worth of love.
^_^
 149Β° 
Lawrence Hall
A     n acrostic
C     an be challenging
R     efining words into patterns
0      f different meanings
S     o we can see the world
T     o be open to new ways of seeing
I       f we've a mind to
C      onsider it so
Anais-approved!
 143Β° 
Zywa
Women being watched

when they enter, nervously --


cling to their handbags.
Autobiography "Een leeg huis" ("An empty house", 1966, Marga Minco)

Collection "Em Brace"
 131Β° 
rhenee rose
Am I suffering beautifully?
Do I wear my agony like a crown?
Adorn it with pearls and jewels,
And parade it into town?

Is my pain reasonable enough?
Do I raise it up or tone it down?
I’ll try to cry pretty, tiny tears,
In fact, I'd do it in my gown!

For even in despair, I should be desirable,
Dare not to be emotional, dare not to make a sound.
To be a woman is to bleed, but glamorously.
There shall be glitters in the meltdown.
A poem about how society expects women’s agony to be palatable.
 123Β° 
Travis Green
I was enveloped in the dopeness
Of his striking good looks
His raw, glowing machismo
Treasuring the unparalleled appeal
Of his enamoring existence

He made my heart soar
With his alluringly glorious charmingness
Lifted me into a dreamlike state
As my gay world lingered
In his sensational embrace

He was a truly delightful adventure
To savor for eternity
His chiseled chest and abs
Were utterly breathtaking

I loved his sensual, commanding lips
His fresh ****** hair
His dark-honeyed eyes
His velvety, fresh-smelling hair

I meandered through the labyrinth
Of his enchanting dreaminess
Revering his sweetness and supremeness
Everything about him
From head to toe
 121Β° 
Eve
even after i lose my voice,
i will miss you in my bones.
even after my bones are ground to dust,
i will miss you in my flesh.
and when that flesh rots to feed the flowers
that grow above my skeleton,
and the child that will inhale the perfume
of my longing
will know that you are missed.
 121Β° 
Soul Searching
And then I sit on the branch of a tree, and things don't seem so bad.
 117Β° 
Anais Vionet
We’re in a young-love recession.
Gen Zers are slow to trust and averse to risk,
we have, it seems, a particular social nervousness
about interpersonal exchanges and the symbiosis of love.

So we resort to situationships (undefined relationships),
a stratagem for closeness, with zero commitment.

You can flirt; you can kiss; you can dance.
You can have a crush so big it blots out the stars
You can have transformative romantic encounters
you can care deeply and get hurt badly
you can, in fact, be absolutely wrecked by love
All without ever being in a relationship.

Thank God we’re only young once.
.
.
Songs for this:
Die With A Smile by Lady Gaga & Bruno Mars
Busy Woman by Sabrina Carpenter
BLT Merriam Webster word of the day challenge 03/15/25:
Stratagem =  a trick or plan for achieving a goal
 108Β° 
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Harder to notice, things that aren’t important.
Such as me




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 103Β° 
Cassandra Livingston
The life of a poet lives on
through all their poems,
but the day I do depart,
I want to be cremated.

I will entrust family
and some fellow poets
to let my ashes sink
into some deep black ink.
And I'd want them to write
the stanzas I secretly saved
just for the occasion.

That way
they can say
that I put
all my heart
and my body
into poetry.
Literally.

My soul,
on the other hand,
would live on happily
as an eternal poet
having fun rhyming
while everyone's crying.
(and I'd wish they'd stop.)
I wouldn't want my loved ones to be saddened.  I'd want them to rejoice, knowing that my dream of becoming an eternal poet finally came true.
 84Β° 
BipolarBear
If I cannot direct these fiery flames,
then let them engulf me entirely.
Leaving not a single hair uncharred.
Sparing no feeling, only memory.

You run for me, pail of water in hand.
The water rises, and the water falls.
Like raging waves on a vengeful see -
Like the betallion of tears in your eyes.

Alas, it hits ground - my arm left outstretched.
Confusion and betrayal paint your face.
Angels like you, can't comprehend this hate.
While I generously give and take it.

Should I fail to control this raging gift;
I would rather be consumed than lose it.
Extraordinary failure suits me,
ordinary success just never did.
 82Β° 
simmer
Your name brings me comfort
All these year later
I say it to myself when I feel most alone

For then another presence enters the desolate space between my ears
Warmth and familiarity replace lack there of
And just for a moment, in a time where I am lost
I am reminded of when every aspect of my being felt fully known
 82Β° 
Poet
breathe
do you feel your lungs expanding?
do you feel you chest rising?
open
open your eyes
do you see the sun?
the moon?
the stars?
the clouds?
all of them were made for you
you
wonderful
       beautiful
                lovely
                                Β­           YOU
sincerely,
someone who cares
 76Β° 
Todd Sommerville
Sometimes I write poetry
most times it writes me.

Showing me things 
I need to see.

Things I need to acknowledge
to be a better man.

Not to change the world, 
but to change what I can.

Most often times
it's a change in me,
A reflection of a man 
I don't want to see.

Sometimes I write poetry,
most times it writes me.

And the more that I write
the more I'll like what I see.

And maybe someday
if I write well enough,

The man in the mirror
will smile back at me.
 75Β° 
Leo
To be a friend ..
Some stories , I must believe,
Some nights , I must not sleep,
Some calls ,I must weep,
Some days , I must argue.
Some places, I must fight.
Some times , I must let go,
But at the dawn of life,
When I have few breathes left in me,
I must remember them..
And with a smile.....Sleep.
 72Β° 
AndresAlejandro
Two souls,
one fate.

Loving each other,
like no one ever has.

Loving so intensely,
only to break apart.

Until they realized,
they weren’t meant to be.

They understood,
they were just the path.

The path to something greater.

They made a promiseβ€”
not in this life,
but in the next,
they wouldn’t let anything tear them apart.

The next life
would be their second chance,
where love would finally win.

This time,
it just wasn’t enough.

Darling,
I toss this coin
into the fountain of that place
I long to return to.
 70Β° 
hsn
a circle,
              (closed).

arms reach,
stretch,
but never
quite
touch.

    infinity spins  
                round β€”  
      no end, no start,  
                  but always moving.  

everything and nothing,
twirl,
dance β€”
a waltz of wisp and weight.

light glows,  
              soft, gentle,  
                         (but distant).  

the edges blur β€”
you almost see it,
almost touch itβ€”
                                  but then it's gone,
                                              slipping β€”

           through cracks.  

completion?
or is it
just a loop β€”

                   a never-ending spiral?

    your place is here,  
                                        (but not yet).  
                   not yet.  

  the world,  
                  the world β€”  
         is beyond,  
                       above,  
                   inside.  

in every step,
                       every breath β€”
is the world.

                   you can see it.  
                   (you almost touch it.)  
     but it’s already gone.  

(it was never there.)  

    but you are.  

      spinning.  
             forever
                   waiting.
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