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Roses are Red
Violets are Blue

I'm Cinderella
You're my missing Shoe

🌹👠🌹👠🌹👠🌹👠
I met him in the night.
    A Gayborhood local
     told me he was from Venezuela, but didn’t have to,
           his accent, so beautiful with its deep grit and softness,
                               twang and lisp.
                               I already knew,           he didn’t have to tell me.

             He bought me drinks, and watched
                             me             and only me,
                as I bit from the fruit of his garden.
              
             He invited me to an afterparty,   I didn’t know
   him, but we went     through alleys,
         dampened by the heat of bodies
      melding to the brick walls, glistening
                            in the streetlights and nightlife. Unknown lips
                          pressed and held, to stay,            not to
                         part. It was
        beautiful.
          
             Within the alley was
        our destination: underground. It was
                a luscious venue, crowded, exuberant and whimsy.
    Velvet covered the walls, and he brought me more drinks.
                                      I finished them all.
                    

                                                               I remember
locking lips with a stranger, and how
         it hurt.

                                       He was warm and sweaty, and
         smelled of Burberry and whiskey,
                                    his stubble left
               my face burning.

                            He grabbed my hand, and led me to
                         the bathroom, then I woke up
                             in his bed.
      
      
             I remembered
                            his husband’s name, and that
                                            he lived in Caracas, that
                  we had ***, and took
                           a shower together, that
                            his mother, dying from leukemia,
                                               slept upstairs, unknowing.
        


                                            ­               I wept
in a stranger’s arms,
   cradled by their tiny physique.
         I wept
              for our beloveds.
**** In no way am I trying to romanticize adultery ****
This is something that broke my relationship for a little while, everything is back together now.
Bongani G-kay Sep 19
They say....
Man are trash...
They say...
We broke their hearts
They say...
We do not give them attention....

They say...
But never see their wrongs...
They say....
But they never loved us back as we did
They say...
But we are the one sacrificed alot broken hearts we carry...

They say...
But they never understand...
What damaged they did...
Silent we remained....
Label us with names...
When you didn't give me a chance to love you and you choosed him...

Silent i remained...
As they say
Man are all trash...

-kay🌹
Man are trash
Pedro Sep 8
Raise your hand
chant the anthem
be one more
in a crowd of gentlemen
go forth and march
topple the gods
cover the world in the dark
and fire the shots
killing all of those
who dare to fight
for the sun is set
and the night is nigh
so cover your face
go under and hide
'cause unfortunately, child
they won...
oh heavens, they won!
The dream of democracy is dead and the corpse rots in the open... I fear for this wretched land we call home!
Nat Lipstadt Sep 7
~for teach~

tell me, are you ok?

yeah, more or less;
like everybody else,
wires get crossed,
static builds up,
the speakers bleat
when they should blat,
and you try to stop thinking,
cause why hurt yourself
too much?

what’s wrong?

nothing to specific,
that seems to be the problem,
like aches and sharp pains
that come without reason,
on a schedule all their own,
no prior consultation,
permission slip sig forged,
so badly, it’s insulting

it’s 3:14 am, woke up with
headphones on, every tune,
reandomly selected, saying,
only the lonely, solitary man,
miles to go, it’s probably me,
long monday coming,
gonna spend it
looking for the summer

now look at this, me done wrote
another impoverished poem,
just by stringing together
song titles that were selected
just for me by an artificial intelligence,
it’s closing time, in the fields of gold,
prine singing a blues lullaby, just for me,
so I won’t have to think so hard for an answer to

tell me, are you ok?

me?
got no complaints that
ain’t my own fault,
my guilt is plugged in
always charging,
sleep comes in dreams of many colors,
eclectic eclipses, electrifying and elicited,
words come spilling so easy, pre-selected,
elocuted and executed, with madding ease.
two more lines, then calling it quits, but at least
got an answer, why for me it’s so easy,
the being hard

<>

3:32am and the moonlight so bright,
it’s making shadows on earth, left behind
like good graffiti announcing I was here,
maybe I’ll find these words, when I wake up,
wonder who wright these, twasn’t me,
I’m a sound sleeper, can never remember,
dreams, or nightmares, even those in technicolor,
wake up a blank slate, to see,
gotta answer somebody’s question,
if I’m ok?
Imran Islam Jul 6
The clime without poets is like the soulless desert
Poets drew their dreams in the words of the mind
The morning without poets is like a sunless night.

Without dreams we have nothing to get high
Poets play with dreams and they are cool spy.
Poets bring the sunshine where has no daylight!

Those who are self-sacrificing poets
They are the golden sun in the world.
In the cloudy sky, I'll find that sunlight.

You write so many untold stories
You have so much love in your heart
You're warm-blooded and you're soft.

Sometimes you are calm and reposed
You're smell of flowers and the singing bird
You're shadow of evergreen forest!

Who'd do questions without a poet, who'll answer them?
Who'll think of nature and who'll love it like you.
The world in the evening, let the morning come.
It'll be a disaster anyway, even then here you come again!
BE
JRF May 19
Let’s weather this storm.
Batten down the hatches and
live another day.
These are truly strange days. Let us be kind, be careful, and persevere!
Imran Islam Apr 21
You like her happy smile,
She likes to make you happy
You love her eyes and beauty
And she loves your compliments.

She wants family, kids and you
Yup, you make money for them.
She wants you to be next to her
Maybe you prefer not to be alone.

You melt into her lovely heart
And she's glad to melt you down.
But sometimes hurt comes out
into your lives from anger and doubt!
Man vs Woman
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