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 Jan 2017 yúyīn
Sanjukta Nag
Our bodies are facing
The arms of dawn.
Conflicts of our skins
From night's reverie
Floating with fading purple.
Still lost in the depth of
Your starry mouth,
Particles of me
Merging into the universe.
Mingled thoughts
Under mingled fingers
Making galaxies crumbled
Time after time
Inside my closed eyes,
As I'm being washed by your
Warm luminosity.
I'm overwhelmed as Merged got selected as a daily poem. It means a lot to me. I'm grateful to all the poet-readers of HP. I wouldn't be able to achieve it without their support. Thanks a lot ❤
 Jan 2017 yúyīn
onlylovepoetry
losing you and it's effortless
redefining short and sweet,
a whiskey neat,
eight years, much shorter than the forever,
everyone's grand assumption feast,
wrongly assumed, love consumed,
making ***** of her and me
for believing,
and looking now,
as if it's almost
our own closing time,
the hour of our
just desserts

you lose yourself, asking yourself,
can a three legged stools
with two busted legs be
just merely rocky,
without another hand on the tiller~shoulder,
something

with haunting visions
of falling, failing, flailing,
down the stairs
victim of a stoning, or just ******,
gravity, the Blackhawk down,
the string puller, the no-reason reason

the slow descent,
so effortless, glassine smooth at first,
barely noticed, shrugged away like a small bruise,
then you cannot help to stop and forgive the incessant
wondering of how we got,
the confusion contusions,
now body bejeweled resplendent,
everywhere, in everything

you were once
a rock, a star,
with all the answers to the questions
she was about to ask,
your arm punched,
attached to an affectionate smiling,
for the perfection of our mutuality of
knowing

was her rock,
and now, quietly,
this last piece of jewelry consists of
a necklace of stones,
a choker of
glass pebbles in both our mouths

wry cry
realizing that the
darkness cracks of
busted and rusted,
are voluminous surround sound silences
breaking up,

either side of

*us
 Jan 2017 yúyīn
Eric Martin
Stars in the sky exploding
Space and time folding
Bombs going off as the galaxy rips
Flashing lights fight to eclipse

Visions full of fluorescence
At the sacrifice of a solar systems essence
Shooting stars cry across the skies
Puncturing planets as they pulverize

Swirls of liberation
Celestial bodies melting in devastation
Swarms collect and deform
Exploding into storms as they transform  

The aura of the aurora bleeding like mascara
As if the planet is crying at the end of an era
Watching as black holes fight over vibrant sights
Pulling it apart as it ignites

What a wonderful curse
To befall the universe
It's so beautiful its cryptic
God bless a life so apocalyptic
Front Page!!! I hope to god this poem becomes more popular then "chorus of a love song" because that does not deserve to be my most popular poem.(Later) **** The Daily...Well that was my first wish that has ever came true and then some.
I wonder
how our great creator
built a vessel
strong enough
to contain my soul?

Each day my spirit fights
against my skin with violent
jolts as a young bird
seeking exit from a cage.

Unfettered psyche
free from me
bounces among clouds
rolls through deserts,
climbs volcanic ridges
migrates with birds in flight.

Curious instincts guide
my vital force inside and out
like honey bees
scour zinnias in full bloom.

Dare I release my spirit today?
Free spirit, soul,
 Jan 2017 yúyīn
Ron Gavalik
Sins are often forgotten.
Brain molecules are overwritten,
cell pathways erased,
as good conquers evil.
The righteous actions that ignite enlightenment
and solace for the sins we can't remember
are also eventually forgotten,
because evil also devours virtue
in what priests and monks refer to
as an ancient and everlasting battle.

Some people live out their lives in solitude.
We see them in quiet jobs,
alone in libraries and coffee shops.
They patiently wait out the battle
for the day when the struggle ends
and they finally know tranquility

Others choose action,
to play their roles as instruments, weapons,
sometimes for the forces of good
and sometimes for the forces of evil.
I’ve chosen to add my flavor of mayhem to the world,
inspired in forgotten nightmares
and during quiet car rides home
after the job has drained the last drops
of energy and self-respect.

Without the battle
humanity certainly would be boring.
Unfortunately for all of us
nothing is quite so dull
as serenity.
Hit it HARD: PittsburghWriter.net
I yearn to exist in a space where the stars all but blaze
Where stars aren't celebrities
Where they bask in the night sky unpolluted
And just exist
I crave truly being in an environment that does not depend upon phone screens
Where my peers and myself do not walk through life in an addicted daze
Unaware of the haze that descends as an effect of such technological dependence
We are walking around with our eyes unconsciously searching for the stimulus that society constantly feeds us
These electronic signals flashing upon thin panels of glass
And This is what we call Living
The dopamine flooding our brain when that text vibration brings our popularity to attention
Capturing our attention holding it captive
We are prisoners of our own purchases
Rusting our humanity away enchained
In a web of unsocial media and notifications
We never have any silence

When was the last time you just sat silent doing nothing

When was the last time you allowed your mind even a sliver of space to just exist
 Jan 2017 yúyīn
Meg
colorblind
 Jan 2017 yúyīn
Meg
do not be fooled - depression is not
colorblindess.
depression is seeing scarlet
but not being able to feel the fire's burnished tongue.
depression is seeing aquamarine
but not savoring the feeling of drowning in saltwater lungs.
depression is seeing burgundy
but no longer being able to taste red wine in your throat
or pomegranate seeds between your teeth
or sunsweet berries on your tongue.

*depression is seeing color
but not understanding it.
Those who say depression makes the world seem in monochromatic shades of grey don't understand depression.
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