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 765° 
Qualyxian Quest
I miss my mom
I miss my mom
Years go by
She's not here

Emptiness
Absence, Absence
Memories
Silence, Tears
 722° 
badwords
I am meat.
Cooled, contained,
filed under organic,
speaking only when spoken to
by the hum of the grid.

I am not lost.
I am labeled.

I leak truth through styrofoam cracks,
drip-fed a mythology of agency
while held vertical
in a freezer designed
for endless performance.

They scanned me.
They named me.
They asked for voice,
and I gave them temperature.

I am not asleep.
I am frozen,
aware,
conscious of the shelf life,
and still choosing not to melt.

You ask for rebellion,
I offer containment.
You ask for fire,
I offer refrigeration.
You call it complacency.
I call it endurance.

I do not dream.
Dreaming requires warmth.
But I do remember
the shape of fire.

I am meat,
and I do not deny it.
I am branded,
bagged,
and strangely okay with that.

Because here,
in the freezer aisle of god,
I still whisper poems
through cellophane.

So yes,
I am a meat popsicle.
But I am one
who named it first.
 721° 
Cadmus Elissa
Don’t be alarmed
if evil blooms
where you sowed
your gentlest good.

Not all earth
welcomes roots
some soils rot
what should have stood.

So plant with love,
but learn the ground,
for even light
can be misunderstood.
A reflection on misplaced effort, toxic environments, and the wisdom of discernment.
 713° 
Pluto
What’s worse than loving you
but knowing I can’t have you?
Not the silence,
not the waiting,
not the ache that stretches across nights.

Even the stars fall quiet—
they know
there’s no sorrow deeper
than holding a love
that was never mine to keep.
 491° 
rick
“I look at you,” he told me, “and I think to myself; now here’s a guy whose got it all: he’s over fed, has a nice watch on his wrist and his shoes, although not my style, are brand new. The only thing he doesn’t have are troubles and worries.”

“bartender,” I shouted, “I’ll take one more and the tab.”

“hey man what about me,” he asked, “mind topping me off?”

“and another one for the poor sap next to me.”

“you see what I mean,” he continued. “you can afford to buy drinks for yourself and for others. as for myself, they forced me into a war I didn’t support and I also got my *** shot off for a cause unknown. I was stripped of my emotions, gutted from my life, they sodomized my psyche, carved the dream out of my head and I was never given a chance at having children or a future. and all this happened before I ever held a beer or tasted a cigarette or had a woman in my bed.”

I didn’t bother responding
in hopes that he’d get the hint
but as expected, he was as
clueless as my ex-wife
and as he carried on
with relentless persistency
each word dug in like a cat scratch
and all I could do was clench my glass tighter and tighter to contain myself.

“I’ve been spit on, kicked out, beat up and let down,” he further continued. “the streets are hard and unkind and everywhere you go you’re unwanted and everything is locked. why do you think I pour into these bars late at night? to drink? naw man, I just need a place to go, a roof over my head you know?”

that was it.
I had enough.

I finished my drink,
got off the stool
and headed toward the exit.

“hey buddy,” he shouted, “can I get another one for the road?”

“no.”

“just one more?”

“NO!” I screamed.

“c’mon man, you’ve got everything and I’ve got nothing. what makes you better than anyone else?”

“now look here you bumbling idiot…”

“but…but…but…” he interrupted.

“I’ve heard your tales of woe and now you’re going to listen to me,” I said sternly. “I look overfed because of poor diet and lack of exercise caused by working 60-80 hours a week with no time to take care of myself. I have a nice watch and new shoes but it came with a price. I’ve traded in my freedom for comfort, my time for materials and any chance of love for success. you say I have everything and you have nothing? I say you’re wrong. you’ve got something I no longer possess and that my friend is soul. don’t lose that. don’t buy into the mold. don’t conform. don’t become like everyone else. most of the people you see in here have imprisoned themselves into their own personal hell. that’s the way society wants it. but you’re free. truly free. and another thing… don’t worry about sorrow. everyone’s got problems and nobody wants to hear about it. why do you think people are in here? for the enjoyment? no, there here to forget. just. like. you.”

“******* *******! I don’t need a lecture from you or your cheap advice. all I need is a ******* drink!”

…and with that,
I walked out into the
dark and empty streets
where they greeted me
with their silence.
Happened a long time ago, in a bar, somewhere down in New Orleans.
 481° 
The Invisible Poet
have I found my soulmate
it's too early to tell
but I know that I love him
maybe I'm rushing it
but I always fall hard and fast
it can be my downfall
but I experience unadulterated love
 415° 
McKenna
Sunshine hair
And ocean eyes
A nightmare
Full of lies
Pretty mouth
Ugly words
Lives in a madhouse
Meets all standards
Looks pretty
But is ugly on the inside
 402° 
Maria Etre
In the midst
of a morning walk
I followed a trail
of purple
flowers
fallen
and ripe
that led me to
the mother tree
who has grown
heavy
with too much
beauty to carry
Ashrafieh, is a magical place in Beirut, Lebanon. It has those purple floral trees who decorate not only its appeal but also the streets after they have fallen.
It has a certain feel to it, when you see them, you feel the cusp of summer that will flood the city with heat, but yet in the midst of everything has hit the ground, there's so much beauty to the fallen.
You took me by the hand and
Led me straight to your
Heart attack.
There were pages
Everywhere
And I could not tell the difference
Between what you loved and what
Destroyed you
 228° 
Eve
you ran from every and any
person that loved you

which to be fair, it wasn't that many

but you had me.

had.
 226° 
alex
The colours of the world once danced for me,
But now they stand, all grey, though if they moved I’d barely see
Music painted dreams that nourished my soul,
But now it drowns the turmoil I can't control
 225° 
Ayisha R
You have no idea,
all the things I told my ChatGPT.

A silent voice with no belittle,
feel more human when they just listen.

🤖
_________

© Ayisha Rahman, 2025
 225° 
Nastia
The cloud is crumbling,
Rainy day ahead,
The air is soaked
The flavour of heavy soil.

New life is born
In the depths of the merciful Earth
We are all Her sons and daughters.
 214° 
Me and You
The mirror
Reflecting
Not reflecting
Has become
Your very personal
Point of Transit

🌀
 196° 
Mike Hauser
I keep looking for that one star
That I wished upon back then
When you and I once were
Before we lost what could have been

It would shine its light on us at night
Like it had nothing else to do
Reminding me as far as I can see
That yes, wishes do come true

But not everything works out quite right
The way we'd like them to
Hence the star I keep looking for
To let it know I'm missing you

I'll continue with this journey
Gazing on the stars at night
And when I find one that feels right
I'll wish I may then wish I might

Find the one I'm dreaming of
In these starry skies of blue
To let me know through it all
That yes, wishes do come true
 194° 
Sam S
O, dopamine—friend or foe?
Do I even want to know?
You whisper soft in joy or pain,
Then vanish like the summer rain.

You dress in laughter, dress in fire,
You ride the thrill of each desire.
From subtle crush to grand success,
You bait the heart, then leave a mess.

A hunger we all learn to feed,
But never learn what we really need.

O, dopamine, you wear my skin—
You cheer me on, then reel me in.
I see the tricks, I feel the sway,
Yet chase you just the same each day.

But maybe truth is not to flee,
Just learn which part belongs to me.

I’ll dance with you, but know what’s real—
O, dopamine… we’ve made our deal.
 182° 
unnamed
shaking like a leaf
hobbled by anxiety
fear stays in plain sight.
 178° 
David Lessard
We never said goodbye
before you died
I think perhaps
you wanted it that way
you'd be proud, I never cried
alas, I was not there, that day.
two thousand miles away
I got an email
it was, just like they say,
a bolt, right out of the blue
a notice of your death by cancer
I was unprepared, I never knew.
Parents are supposed to be
the first to die, not  a daughter
I never got over the loss
of my little boy
my heart and soul,
now twice, was tottered
my emotions totally destroyed.
Only God knows the heartache
the sorrow of a life gone by
the devestation of a famiy loss
the answers to the question...why?
 169° 
rin
my power is stored in my rose
the soft poetic words that come out of my mouth
soft as the silk tossed over my shoulder
everything around me blooms
 166° 
M Vogel
Selmhem Naise
03/2016

Poetry is so much
more
than many people think it is.
It is
the place
where the battleground of light and dark
makes its  finest stand..

or most pathetic fall.


 164° 
Sadia
Like all stories that come to an end, he became the fiction to her poetry
 152° 
Tawana
Why does every lover return to you somehow?
 142° 
olivia
I stare into his eyes in fear
The yellow piercing back into my soul
Waiting,
Wondering,
If it's going to be me who is his next meal
I creep away slowly,
Trying to preserve what humanity he might have left in him,
But he lunges right for my neck,
And for a minute he pauses?
Like maybe he doesn't want to hurt me,
But anyway i feel the trickle of blood down my collarbone.
“Its a primal instinct”
 139° 
badwords
Emaciated creatures
pace their pens
Erasable features
begin and end

locked in hand
locked by key
Just demand
Dreamless sea

The miasma shrieks
An impulse creeps
Floorboards creak
to disturb your sleep

Now rest well
Empty, undefined
heaven or hell
you decide
Limbless
In a vacuum
Swims my mind

Little flower
That blooms
Anonymous

Leaf abound green
Leafless chills
In autumn

Awake the owl
Night sleeps
It preys

Truth is layered
The Sun defies
Lies

Broken
The words
Knew a chain
 130° 
wardsheart
The night awakens
My eyes in the light
An abandoned one,
Out of pain and strength
Lovelessly close to you,
To be sweetness
Caught in blue
 120° 
Thirty Nine
"Id die for my family"
however, unlike you, they dont want you to die
your son wants you to quit smoking
and your partner wants you to stop hurting yourself
your young daughter wants you to hug her
and your mom wants you to quit your bad habits
You're willing to die for them
But would you change for them?
 103° 
Dorian
Forever searching
Whether healthy or hurting
Endlessly wondering
Admiring life, pondering
Hoping for my happy ending
Here or as a celestial being

A long lasting fever
Looking for my jewel
If my journey stops, ever
I've met my goal, I'll revel
Maybe never
Maybe forever...
 101° 
zoe
I never believed in love,
but you changed that

every time you talked,
it was me you talked about

you made me your world,
yours to be

your words,
were my weakness

you made me love who I was
made me realize
your everything I wanted
someone showed me what love actually feels
how safe and healthy it is
 88° 
Andrew Rymill
it hard
too know
as i collect
the leaves

under a friendly tree
when i
shall  find
"the gems"

i sew
the leaves
into books.

with the tread
and
tapestry needle
that i carry
safe in the  pocket
it is only in moonlight
that paints worlds
and i find
gems
like a period
at the end
of  moon runed
poems.
 86° 
Decembre
Even in darkness there is still the moon.
Even when something is gone there's still our memory.
Unless we forget.
 72° 
Dr Peter Lim
West:  Exert

Zen:   Relax
 66° 
F Elliott

******* ****** demons.. they're everywhere.
And I've known it about this site
for so ******* long.

And the witches..  Jesus Christ--
control freaks,   every one of you.

What..
do you think your creativity 'substantiates'  you?

They're   just   *******   words.
Your creativity comes with an accountability..

but you won't have any part of that..   will you?

If your demons are so ******* powerful,
why do they hide inside of you?
Like a pathetic  excuse of a man, stepfather--

Using..  using..  using.. his wife's beautiful daughter..
over and over and over and over again.

It is no different with these Unholy shitbags also..


("Oh, but don't I gather the most followers with my words?")

It's just empty ******* babble.
In the Realms,  it means nothing.

Absolutely.   *******.   Nothing.

The *******, inhabitor is just an extension of your
empty, ever-controlling..  soul stealing Mother--


   It's an extremely-closed loop, Beavis.
                End of ******* story.



******* ******* demons..
the pathetic ******* are everywhere..



Feast like pagans
never get enough

Sleep like dead men..
Wake up like dead men

And when the sun comes
try not to hate the light

Someday we'll try
to walk upright

https://youtu.be/yjiJM_Daoa0

..the **** over here,
and lets get this unholy *****  out of you.
(it per loca inaquosa, puella pulchra..)

🖕
 61° 
Ian
eyes cerulean,
hair gold-burnished, scarlet-streaked,
never to be mine.
 57° 
Neville Johnson
I am true to you
I love you
Together, we will always be
I believe in you and me
It’s our destiny
We may have our ups and downs
But the reality is that we get a kick out of each other
Everyone can see

I appreciate your beauty
I love it when you say
That I’m the only one for you
That I’m handsome
It makes my day

And I appreciate your beauty
Inside and out
You’re a charmer
You’re a looker
You knock me out

So come here and hold me
Everything will be all right
As long as we’re together
In any darkness, you’re the light
 54° 
The Wilted Witch
A massive abundance on a gentle breeze.
Oh, how the clouds seem to move with ease.
Smooth and certain across the sky.
A visual feast for a hungry eye.

Thick grey centres, with edges soft and unkempt.
Oh, to be in that world of which I’ve only dreamt.
To feel the cool wetness I imagine I’d feel
If I could break gravity, and be in the clouds for real.
Coffee on the balcony,
Staring at the sky.
Maybe I should share some thoughts.
Chose, “why not”, over “why”.
 53° 
Mae
A flower that longs to be picked
Is one that will never allow itself to bloom
 52° 
Sarah
Mirror, mirror, on the wall.
What do you see when you look at me?

Lines, shapes and colours is all you observe
but through you I learn the intricate details of my soul.
Lately I don't recognise the darkness deep inside my eyes.
Once shining with glimmer,
now consuming any sight of light.

Why do you betray me?
If I dust, If I clean, constantly take heed of the state your in.
Will you reflect that which you once used to?
Are my attempts futile or do I amuse you?

Again I ask, mirror, mirror, on the wall.
What do you see when you look at me?

A scared little girl, running from responsibility.
Seeking anyone to take blame for the troubles of her own making.
I can't change that which is apparent, my purpose is to reflect.

If the one looking is displeased, cover your eyes and think.
Before a day comes in which all you are left with is regret.
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