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Paul Idiaghe Apr 30
you are the hand
hauling back
my cries. my mother’s
mother hardened
from dust.
you are almost
my eyes.

you are not sky
or frozen air.
i suspect  
you have no skin.

love is my left
wing smacked
on your pane
that i mistook
for an open door.

i let the nights
do their undoing
of my feathers into light.
maybe this way
you would welcome me.
written after Diane Di Prima’s poem on the same title.

You're the
light in my
heart, my
breathe &
inhaling air.
You're the
lens and
the pupil of
which I
sight. The
window of
my soul and
my twin-spirit.
Baby you're
my motivation,
mission and
destination. I
got my  whole
world in you,
believe me I
live in you.
For your love
soothe and
makes me whole.
Samantha Apr 25
When you look at the sky

Counting the silver stars, 

I look at you rather the moon or stars

Like a light in the swamp, 

The dark sky and the calm night

Adorns you well

When longing for your shinning gaze, 

The Lonely air soothes me its embrace.
Description of the best version of me - you
jasmine wild Apr 21
i believe breathing in an air of love
would be the same as gasping in the
beckoning sweetness of a crimson rose on a
fresh summers day

Thinking about you and seeing you in an every imaginations. Yet crave your voice to hear, can't get asleep I think I fell in the water for you. Love in the air. Thinking about you.
LC Apr 16
they may carry children
with cotton-candy-tinted glasses,
or adults who nudge the world
to align with their visions,
or the elderly who see a path
of golden light ahead of them,
or animals who always beam
around their fellow humans,
they carry children with shoulders
that know the weight of the world
or adults who see their dreams shattering
all around them like a broken mirror,
or the elderly who can only see gray clouds,
wondering when the darkness will lift,
or animals who are suffocated by the noise
and crave the fresh air and blue skies.
these vessels carry more stories than
the number of stars in this infinite universe.
#escapril day 15!
Poetic T Apr 9
The restrictions upon my self
worth, never the right, write,
              wording, metaphor

of what I wish to show you, u, me.

That even though I don't cry or
                scream, I'm swaying

every sentence I write, right to  
the point that there was never
a chair to hold words.

Instead, I bleed my word, pain
with every stanza that collected
beneath holding me up.

Until I wrote so much that there
wasn't just air beneath me but solid
              meaning wanting to
hold me higher than that which
may make me fall...
Dr Zik Apr 6
Come towards my Lord!
A Zinet to escape from Covid19.
Just Maria Apr 2
Spring is in the air
Flowers are in bloom
Birds are singing everywhere
And the sun hides the winter gloom

We tend to forget our troubles
As we enjoy the spring
Kids run thru the puddles
That April showers bring

Spring is only three months long
And that's a real ******
But it can't really be to wrong
If we're springing into summer
MM Mar 31
You need not to win the race
as long as you keep running
It's alright to not be at the top
for you have never stopped climbing
Set your own pace
for you are the master of your own race

It's fine if the only thing you could do for now
is to just keep breathing
It's enough to know you're still fighting

For now, just breathe
We'll figure out the rest later
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