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 Aug 2015 Kwanele
berry
leftovers
 Aug 2015 Kwanele
berry
right now there are eleven empty containers of alcohol in my bedroom,
but it's fine, i'm fine.
i've been telling myself for more than a year
that i wasn't going to write anymore sad ****** poems about you,
but here we are.
most days i'm sure i don't miss you,
but then i listen to the wrong song,
and before i know it -
i'm screaming along to band of horses in the dark,
stalking your twitter favorites,
and somehow,
i've managed to get snot on my forehead.
yeah, nostalgia is an *******
but not all the memories sting.
there was that one time we went to the movies
and i slipped on some ice and fell flat on my ***.
i just sat there while you took a picture.
but i'm glad we could laugh about it.
i'm glad we were comfortable.
in my head, we still are.
in my head, we're oversized-goodwill-sweater comfortable.
we aren't as comfortable in real life
but i'm glad we still laugh.
this is the part where i don't bring up the time you told me
my laughter could cure your sadness,
because i'm pretty sure i already put that in another poem,
and it makes me really ******* sad.
did i ever tell you i used to play guitar and piano?
i loved them, but i never tried very hard.
i wanted to be good without having to practice.
i wanted to be good without having to practice.
i wanna meet the girl you write about
so i can ask her how she manages not to love you back.
because i've tried everything & i am so tired.
i forgot this wasn't supposed to be a sad poem.
i'm not good at happy anyway,
i never have been.
but in your absence i've learned a lot about softness.
so if i ever find myself back in your passenger seat,
i won't correct you when you sing the wrong lyrics,
i won't ask why when you take the long way home.
i won't ask you why you don't have your seatbelt on,
i'll just say a silent prayer
and watch for signs that you might be about to swerve.
right now there are eleven empty containers of alcohol in my bedroom,
and i didn't find you at the bottom of a single one.

- m.f.
 Aug 2015 Kwanele
glassea
temporary
 Aug 2015 Kwanele
glassea
she may hurt, but she is not pain.
she may fail, but she is not a failure.
she may be tragic, but she is not tragedy.

*she may feel worthless,
but this, too, will pass.
so it's always worth reminding people (i.e. myself) that just because you feel something in the moment doesn't mean that it's permanent. an emotion is an instant, no matter how long the ache lasts, and an instant cannot define you.

(thanks for the daily!)
 Aug 2015 Kwanele
brandon nagley
(Niamh Price), this is thy own dedication, thy shortened sentences art lovely, they showeth me mine homeland of Ireland, wherein the druids didst roam, wherein tales went back far and old, as niamh thy soul I feeleth its pain, yet soo amazing thou art friend.

(Gary L), this one is thine own writing, sir, thy friendship is inviting, thy lyrical sense is enticing, as thou doth speak truth when thou seeith it, never quit! On thy works and on thineself, thou art who thou art, a beautiful man, with timeless knowledge.

(SPT), this poem is for thou as a treat, I feeleth thine anguish mix in with thy compassion, thou art a hopeful mansion, filled with words of someone who hath lived age's, thy pages art touching, and I thank thee for thy support and guiding me through h.p.

(Ignatius Hosiana), brother thou art a hopeless romantic like me, hoping for his queen, seeing her only in thine dream's, yet as we scream, as brother's we doth unite! In color of skin's, black and white we overcometh the ideology of hatred, loving the hater.

(Dedpoet), mine Mexican friend, how canst I not loveth thee, thy word's dark, ghetto, and deep, as I've been around hood part's to knoweth enough, the most beauty LIES awake in the hood, the places the rich men overlook, is wherein the eyes of God art .

(Wonderman poetry), brother thy words of Christ uplift me, not a perfect being mineself, thyself showeth me the light in the darkness and thus when I'm down, thine godly loving giveth me help, as thou knoweth brother, love and forgives as Christ taught!

(poetessa diabolica), word's that thou uses art so complex, for thee so I respect, for all thy love thou hath given me, the hope that thou planted me, to showeth me, God still lingers in man's soul's, despite the devil trying to rear around, I thankest thou poetess...

(Donna,) thine little haiku's art a piece of the celestial, thy pieces extraterrestrial, and high up the Angels weep to thy words. Like cures and herbs they giveth me a better day to look to, as like glass, beautiful the words thou uses floweth to heavens moon!

(Rosalind Heather Alexander), speechless I am to thy grace, a Scottish lass as me part Scottish blob and mass, lol, just saying , two bloods of the same kind, now thou art writing thy soul out, keepeth it divine, thy soul canst not go rewind, so love on ahead.

(Soul-survivor), old friend, as we both preach the same predictions shalt we worry of ourn end? No, we shalt continue to showeth love, and giveth others hope, than when we die the Graves not it, but that God's love over-rose, so shalt we, auntie as I calleth thee.

(Icysky), young one please do not cry, the boy's canst seeith the fine stitching God made thee as, thou hath a vessel of rubies, and thou art like a wonderful movie, fast tracked to the best part, icy, let noone breaketh thine heart, and let thy lord guideth thee .

(Joe Malgeri), a freak hippy like me, playing music to the sun, giving lectures highly and fun, thou wilt find a queen like me one day, continue to haveth class, play tunes by night, showeth thy genuine ways. As thou doth, wonderful supporter, HP gypsie!!!

(Anthony Mooney,) an Irish hopeless romantic like me, thy soul hath beauty friend, let not hate overtake, bypass the anger and the heartbreak. Let thy pen jot down thy beauty, making the earth quake, unlike others dear mate, thou hath high class.

(Wolf spirit) ( aka quin,)though we don't talk, I loveth thee mine friend, though even thou doth not like me, thou art one of mine biggest inspiration's, thou art a true passionate, amongst the tribal nations, as I am Cherokee part mineself, thou inspireth me.

(Chris green, )affectionate of the the earth, thy woman Is lucky to haveth a poet by birth, for thy words drip like honey on a summer night, Chris friend, wonderful delight, I thank thee for kindness, for thy hope in refinement, and thou art a king of love.

(Pradip Chattopadhyay,) a man who canst writeth in all perspective, thy profile picture maketh me giggle everytime I seeith it, ( in a good way friend) I loveth thy style, and sense of humor, how thou writeth, and doesn't listen to rumors, a poet!!!

(Dark icE,) I just met thee, but thy sensuality is so delighting and like a dream, thy words sucketh me in as I canst ever get out, thy amour in poem's is a cloud, on which I linger for more of its nectar wet taste, immense in this place, unlike the human race.

(Beth StClair), mine best friend if back in the sixties, we wouldst hath layed flower's around ourn necks and head's, we wouldst hath sang the tunes of the Beatles and the dead, as I wouldst hath sung with Lennon, and zeppelin and thou wouldst hath watched.

(Vicki,) I've already wrote for thou and beth, but thou two art the best, Vicki in the crumby state of Ohio like me(lol) though me and thou aren't from here (were Angels of earth's dream's) thou art a poetic of kings and queens, thou art kind, sweet, and a a peace.

(Impeccable Space Poetess,) thy writing is like thunder. Maketh me laugh cry and rolleth over, I read again, like a books beautiful cover, thou art a friend, a poetry lover. Thou hath intelligence of God and heaven, never let man break thee or hurt thee.poetic!!!

(POETIC T,) a spirit light as a feather, free not a slave, not of this world, a man not a boy, thou hath been through strife and abuse, thy hands art not bound, thou hath cut the noose, please don't leaveth us, we all careth for thee. Friend of mine. And HP.
This is for some poets for now. Gonna make another one in little bit for more lol... Took forever for this!!!!!! Part two coming lol.. And BTW for others I love on here don't get upset *** u aren't in poem yet this is part one... More people to come lol and for u who who see I even use people I love in here who don't like me at all but fact is I love them I don't need noones approval can just show love (:::
~

This love is so exclusive
That turns me too illusive

When I am in a dream
She builds the stream

When I write a poetry
She recites the piece fluently

When she sings a song
Dreams longing me too long

So my heart is under lock and key
Which could only open by she

~
@Musfiq us shaleheen
 Aug 2015 Kwanele
lucy winters
Somewhere in Cape town it always rains
And in some part of my heart the rain always stays
Waves crash deep within me
Like you,  they are always free
You know sometimes I still hate you
Just in between the waves build up and break through
Hold me tight and I sit where i Isit and you know
Of all the things I cannot let go
So here I sigh and sit
And remember the deep scars on my wrists
And we remember the reasons
Why I sit here quietly and let peace in
Peace for myself and I'm letting you be
You who no longer hold onto me



Ek en jy

dit reen altyd iewers in kaapstad
en altyd iewers in my hart
branders golf diep binne my
nes jy is hulle altyd vry
jy weet ek haat jou nog partykeer
net so tussen die branders se golf en kom weer
hou my vas en ek sit waar ek sit en jy weet
van die dinge wat ek nie kan vergeet
so hier sit ek en sug
en onthou van die diep merk op my gewrig
en weet van die rede
hoekom ek hier sit en maak vrede
met myself en met jou
wat my nie meer vashou
Written for H.  He knows.

Rough draft of translation on request
 Aug 2015 Kwanele
lucy winters
Whilst wounded
I've no anger
In this heart

Toward you
 Aug 2015 Kwanele
lucy winters
Down on bended knee
Relentlessly praying
Yet
Selective amnesia eludes
 Aug 2015 Kwanele
M
Untitled
 Aug 2015 Kwanele
M
true love meets in the sea, and, drifting, stays afloat.
thinking about all the nautical metaphors I've been reading and hearing
 Aug 2015 Kwanele
niamh
Drops
 Aug 2015 Kwanele
niamh
Love dropped
With the force of
A silken feather
Simultaneously knocking
Me to the ground
And lifting me up
 Aug 2015 Kwanele
lio
Mars
 Aug 2015 Kwanele
lio
Baby kiss me
like we're on Mars and the only breath
we have is from
each other's lungs.
- I.p
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