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George Ittyerah Oct 2020
In the autumn of ninety six,
When the breeze blew with bliss,
I saw heaven in her eyes and the radians spread with such brilliance;
Captivating thousands in fact millions who wanted to be by her side.
But they did not dare cause of her tormented life.

The bells rang, the birds sang,
Autumn seemed so exotic.
Was I in love, or was it a passing vision -
One of lives  dramatic situations.

Every time our eyes met,
A sudden shiver ran down my neck;
I was so entranced by her
but dared not approach her.

Education got the better of me and I never took that step,
Love consumed me like a worm in a succulent apple;
And when it was too late, in just a blink,
the autumn coupled with the inducing sun,
Changed my life for what its worth.

We exchanged love, we endured love,
We made love and felt love;
through one solitary mode - "silence" being the golden conversation;
as we touched each other through this magical phenomenon.

The feelings we had were sacred, deeper than the blue ocean;
Yet it was drowned as time went by,  
and it withered slowly during the last autumn sunshine
Why?
A question I so often hate to ask,
A question that reminds me of lives unjust cruelty,

She had contracted AIDS,
A flower withered before its age;
Her beauty inseparable;
Soon to turn to ashes.
Oh Life! You are so unjust.

She was only nineteen when she died;
Her last few minutes were silent, as our eyes met for the last time.
It was only tears that I could afford,
Not even words could tell as to how I felt;

Our love was given its final bend
When with her dying breath,
She kissed me gently on my forehead;

Her lips were pale, were parched;
And soon grew cold.
How silence grew and how silence got bold!
In silence did it take my heart
and in silence did it strike me.

Its shallow pain hit me in vain
For my true love was silent again
Never to return back, never to kiss me,
But to be silent for ever again.
Elijah Bowen Dec 2019
sleep curved miles of patched dead boys into me like a scythe.
their quilts were not mine to sweat through,
to drench nightly with my self.
but i cried out anyway.
said i needed stained warmth more than coffins ever could.
bare as they were.
prodigal as they were.
i turn aside in bed. i sweat it out.
sleep handed me its crowded city plots and boxes of
one-way ticket disownment boiled down
to an art exhibit of photographed bodies.
black and white bodies. end of life bodies.
i tore them into manageable halves.
their varied human pieces quilted themselves together onto the floor.
their eyes floated to land at my shoes.
i stared.

yet it was sleep who drew in
the fluttering array of lost bandanas dyed with every coy color
present on the rare days here
that always smelled more like mornings,
the colors peeking like barefoot children just around the corners of their smirking, drowsy city avenues after rain.
sleep dreamt me an after hours carousel.
the revelry of skintight garbage bags
brimming over with ****** boys.
lovely boys.
boys with a gleam.
faceless baby boys with sores like eyes,
full of their junk they
treasured, fondled, kissed
the little pound of flesh that was theirs,
they gave freely, bait and tackle
to swallow whole.
dust bowl dumpling soft.
pulsing expectance.
those skins underneath you’d discover pressed to an eternity of sorts
between two slurs of the same brick,
that its nightless club grime
mumbled disco sickly to me & him.
and i’d be on my knees.
by a bed, a river, a quilt, a pew, an avenue, a grave.
whatever useless dreams may come,
i always find myself there.
already knelt in every way i couldn’t possibly comprehend.
gravely, maybe beautifully-
beside another slumbering boy
too distant from life not to reach for.
for all those lost to ***/AIDS+
Matthew Nov 2019
1000 years have gone and went

What was Music to my ears
Is now

aids to my eyes.
Tizzop Nov 2019
if five minutes where dem
last five minutes of my life

if i died
in five minutes
i would

kiss my kid
hold on to my wife i'd
call my mom

forever
forever
forever

i wouldn't write a bit
i wouldn't eat a bit
i'd have lots of ***** though

i'd trip
i'd get scared

who would not?

placeless
Mark Toney Oct 2019
Farrokh Bulsara a.k.a. Freddie Mercury
British singer, songwriter known universally
Confirmed he had AIDS and then died the next day
His music through Queen still rocks us all the way

Came a man from Zanzibar named Farrokh
Whose tastes were both flamboyant and baroque
For fame he was ready
Changed his name to Freddie
After his death millions still love this bloke

A Heathrow baggage handler prior to fame
Wrote a song about his favorite cat, Delilah by name
In his personal life he was very shy, gentle and kind
His life and times are “guaranteed to blow your mind”
8/29/2019 - Poetry form: Clerimerick Couplets (A hybrid form I created composed of a Clerihew, Limerick and 2 rhyming Couplets. This is another of my Clerimerick Couplets.  The Clerihew has been described as the literate cousin of the Limerick. Cool things happen when the cousins get together!  Two rhyming couplets make the poetry form complete. - Copyright © Mark Toney | Year Posted 2019
Starry Sep 2019
Try learning that
You very first love
Is druggie
And has ***
When she used to be so brilliant
And loving
And full of life
When you two had
So much in common
That is pain
Right there.
This is the poem of my first love  who is in a desperate situation
Todd Carter Jul 2019
“Maybe by a minute,
might’ve been a day.

Either way I escaped it,
was lucky either way.

Was it a random choice,
maybe geography?

Not sure why I escaped it,
why I live on to see.

The scourge that decimated,
took all that talent away.

Why did I survive it?
What am I left to say....

that has meaning or heft or gravitas for days?

Not sure what to make of it,
questions running through my mind.

I only know that I escaped it,
***+, not yet the deadly kind.

Maybe by an hour,
who am I to say?

A.I.D.S. - the affliction of a generation, will it ever go away?“
Pose FX got me feeling some kinda way:
blackbiird May 2019
I hope she gives you AIDS.
That'll teach you to **** anyone again.
I hope your **** falls off
I hope you're laying in a hospital bed where you
think of me before you close your eyes one final time.

Oh, did i mention I hope you get AIDS?
PJ Poesy Dec 2018
Today, I do not die
for in our time we have seen too many taken
Waken in me are their souls

Today, I will not die
for Frank, for Russell, for Betty June
too soon, too soon, my friends

Pay attention, I cannot cry
for Jeffrey, for Paul, my first kiss named Ray
They, who left amidst it all

Would not wish me to shed a tear
Be here, be here and know their names
James, and Donny and Danny, the twins

Great possibilities gone forever
We, hardened more as each dropped off
check off each name and know

Nelson and Dean, Tony and Roy
Arturo, whose own survival story was cut short
Stuart, who never had his proper farewell

Toned down tears may well up
Still, do not give up for they watch us now
How could they be forgotten?

For Trashina with her unbridled moxie
for John whose brilliance matched how foxy
a paradox, never understood

Whoever you've known
Whoever you've loved, give undying respect
as wrecked were their lives for ours to survive

Out-and-out trials they saw
Shall have my most undying respect
My undying respect for them all
I live today to show them my undying respect.
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