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 Apr 2017 k
Jasmine Reid
Here I Lie
 Apr 2017 k
Jasmine Reid
Here I Lie.
In my life.
On these words.
In these pages.
In this book I have created.
Turn me upside down and throw me on the ground.
I'm still here, I'm still breathing, and I'm still living.
I'm not happy, I'm not sad, I'm not mad, I'm not glad.
I'm everything and nothing, deep inside.
I'm empty but full.
Just half and half.

Here I Lie, Here I Lie.
That's me when I die.
But when will I die? And when will I strive?
And only God knows when I'll drown under the tide.
If you're here, and you bothered to read.
Thank you.
Thank you dearly, for listening to my words in your own voice.
And because reading this was your choice.
 Apr 2017 k
Lunar
with his passion for reading
and my passion to write,

with all of my heart
and all of my might,

I want to pen the words
which he’ll imprint onto his mind:

because my words are the only piece of me,
with him, that I will leave behind
slowly
but surely
i know i am running
out of my favorite ink
 Apr 2017 k
lenore
Be kind to your own mind:
When it wakes you in the middle of the night,
(Your thoughts afraid of their own shadows;)
Hold it like you hold a child:
Softly, yet with all your might,
(Turn its terror into a fable;)
Don’t ever be ashamed to love yourself.
 Apr 2017 k
Rachel Ace
[You can hear the air moving the 
 l e a v e s  of the    
p     a  l    m          t      r  e  e     s.
Last rays of sun and it’s June 3]

    
We walk on a  white-washed street and
Forget Me Not flowers on the fences screaming this is your new world.
You are that world, your eyes are Portofino in the middle of a neighborhood of coins.

We are walking and you stop because you look at a window of someone, while I was (I was) fixing the shouts of light on your temple, living the new world.

[All my cracks filled with water]

It’s warm pleasant, we walk, seeing life taking and not just wishing,

-^^^-
   we have excelled    
in the plastic world.

I stood by the **^use with the most beautiful garden, I touched bird in paradise and you say that it’s [our garden]
- Codelandandmore // 9:00 PM ©

The structure is like white-picket-fences
 Apr 2017 k
Michael S Simpson
Yes
 Apr 2017 k
Michael S Simpson
Yes
you do have
eternity,
and yet,
you may not
always
have
me....so

come,
swim with me
beneath the sweet
summer moon,
sleep next to me
one lifetime,
be my playful
goddess,
lover,
friend,
here
in this
lake,
this forest,
this
now.
Thanks to my fridge magnet poetry muse, Mr. Ken Moore
 Apr 2017 k
svdgrl
Speech Police
 Apr 2017 k
svdgrl
I know when I've reached my speaking cap,
because you pull faces, sometimes shush me,
complain that I over-explain.
I tell you about how little I speak to everyone else,
in hopes that you'd cherish the words I share
with you alone, but it's futile.
So I silence myself in efforts to quell your disdain,
and refrain from speaking again.
"That's too dramatic," you say.
"It's one extreme to another, learn balance," you say.
My speech is policed, but you "only teach."
Brevity is the soul, you say.
Training me to avoid embarrassment,
obtain eloquence,
I should be thankful
that you, who know not to express your feelings
without another's pre-existence,
are patient enough with my chatter
to suggest that I truncate and omit better.
Reduce the noise and volume on this amplifier.
If I were a ****, you'd fine tune me
until you heard nothing at all.
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