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 Oct 2022 lua
Elena
Our bed is the epitome of careless love
singing,
“Blue caress, blue sheets, blue dove”
But creaking like broken bones
And eyes so sleep deprived
This voice was cracking
And failed to verse the final line.
So this is what we call rosy then
A bare thorn without a flower?
Your music transparently
repeats our chilling song
But still you sing,
“Blue promise, blue jay, blue flame”
And with the softest blow
We always fade away
As bells softly chime
A ringing cry,
“Blue dreams, blue freedom, blue winged bird of mine.”
 Oct 2022 lua
Elena
Truth
 Oct 2022 lua
Elena
Truth was a breath
of cold November air
Escaping from her soft lips
Truth was warm
a breath of purpose
A spoken word
Tasting sweet nuance
A fresh, crisp blow
of season's new flair
Something so subtle
yet undoubtedly alive.
 Oct 2022 lua
Elena
Inside the Fog
 Oct 2022 lua
Elena
A halo of envy
Steamed a green fog
Upon her dreamy sky
The faint shape of him
Unveiled her heart
And she shivered
With a chill of denial
But hope was a’gliding
And a’rising at Dawn
and He, so humble to beauty,
Was flowering notes
And willed solace afloat
This crystalline sky,
Fuming boldly.
 Sep 2022 lua
Elena
Deception
 Sep 2022 lua
Elena
Have you ever looked evil in the eye?


           I have


    And he winked


A tone as smooth as velvet

A grin of a boy

His lips parted seas,

of churning lava

But I saw a pool,

     to dip my toes

He splashed playful twists and turns

    Till I was soaked

And drops trickled down my skin,

    scathed by sin

That murky tank of burns.
This was on my old page & I didn’t want to lose it as part of my collection, so here it is.
 Sep 2022 lua
Carlo C Gomez
Handing out wings

like they were portions of God

this narrow asphalt

made by architects of tourism

movers of time and space

reaching out like insane astronauts or genius heretics

breathing our iodine

becoming halogens

the sky moves sideways

dystrophic airwaves

feeble beacons

eerie radio silence

here come more perils from the sky
 Sep 2022 lua
cs wondering
This is not a poem;
This is an artist screaming to be heard in the abyss of life's harshest realities.

This is not romantic;
This is an artist learning to to be in love with her very self.

All this years, I have been trying so hard to create a person I could love.

Little did I realize, what I was looking for has always and-
will always be within me.

I think I've learnt to love myself.
I think I'm finally free.

This is a poem;
This is an artist screaming to be heard in the abyss of life's harshest realities.

This is romantic;
This is an artist learning to to be in love with her very self.

All this years, I have been trying so hard to create a person I could love.

Little did I realize, what I was looking for has always and-
will always be within me.

I think I've learnt to love myself.
I think I'm finally free.
I think-

— c.s wondering
Hello friends!

It's been so many years since I last came on here to create poems. I guess something sparked inside of me tonight, and just like that- I'm back.

And I hope everyone has been well x
 Aug 2022 lua
Simran Guwalani
What I see
I might not comprehend
My vision could be
fogged till the end
It's hazy, It's unclear
I don't know what's ahead
A fox, a tiger or even a bear
I could be dreaming, right in my bed
I wish I could be
one of those that can see
with their eyes unclouded
Their vision clear and unbounded.
 Jul 2022 lua
Suresh Gupta
BLISS
 Jul 2022 lua
Suresh Gupta
BLISS

05/24/2019



in death lies the seed of birth,

so as we are cradled in one form,

so shall we be cradled in another.





no reason for dismay,

no cause for anguish
i could write about the sun
or the sea
or the terrier that lives on 5th,
i could write about my dad's baseball cap
or his blue jacket that stubbornly refuses to tear,
i could write about life and love
and all those other things that poets seem to know about,
i could write about the condition of my soul
and the slight concave in my chest that steals away the air,
i could write about my favorite song,
the winding drive back from the beach,
the softness of a clean bed,
i could write about all these things
but yet,
               i only seem to write of you.
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