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Carlo C Gomez Jul 14
connected particles settling

as evidence

of the blissful graze

the brush with chemistry

the aftersome

and there the flashover

reframing time

by the warm places

one isolated touch sends you to

Celestial Jul 7
I could miss you,
If I had the feelings you stole.
When I was whole.

Ditched and strung about,
You left me without!
Now all I have is the anger.

The distain, stress, FURY.
I'd run from the fire,
But now I have desire.

Right, I still have that.
THAT! The feeling of longing... remembrance.

Can it fade?
What once was so hot,
The feelings caught.

Yes, as an abyss,
Never-ending with out bliss.
My out side is charred.

Inside I feel it now.
Growing and expanding,
A cold dulling what was commanding.

What can I be!?
I cant see..
Good-bye me, I'll miss you.
Feeling your shell around
Rama Krsna Jul 5
deep inside her
this myriad of colors ~~
is it a full moon?

© 2021
JJ Inda Jun 7
The mornings are rich,
full of light and warmth.
and although the day may be poor,
heavy and tiresome
and the night may be restless
cold and disturbingly quiet;
hidden in that darkness lies the promise
of the coming dawn.
Sachiko May 29
I think my life is in season.
As spring blooms beautifully,
it gives an accurate definition of new beginnings.
But along with it, there were a lot of baggages that I needed to let go.
I find myself losing a lot of relationships.
It breaks my heart how it drastically changed.
I made a lot of beautiful memories with them.
Those memories were comparable to cherry blossoms.
It was so bright and full of energy.
But just like spring, it has to end.
Because life must keep on going.
Some people aren’t meant to stay.
I stopped trying not because I didn’t care.
Instead, I’ve learned how to accept things.
I still do love them. I love hard.
But I believe that I can still love them from a far.
I can’t wait for another chapter of my life.
Opportunities are always welcome.
As well as meeting new people.
And just like spring, it is a beginning of growth.
Ashley Kay May 26
Hidden in the sage
There are
Petals of a new voice
Soft familiarity
Blurred edges
Like a riverbed

A yesterday life distant

Abandoned before arrival
There is a slow call
Back to the pale brush
Patiently waiting
For the return of the aroma
Named change
cradled in these arms
a new beginning
a metaphorical infant
of hope
the sweetest possibility
of innocent growth
in this basic moment
i can believe i'm not alone
cradled in these arms
the makings of a home
a metaphorical infant of hope
Nicole Apr 13
Today, I planted a seed.
Laboring to follow cycles decreed.
The fertile soil I tilled
and the water I spilled.
Both blanket my treasure -
an anchor sprouting, I closely measure.
Taking root, it bears stem,
blooming to peak: a potent gem.
Now, the leaves broach to unfurl,
elevating dawn with a blossoming pearl.
Spring is the season for new beginnings - however they emerge.
Standing on the precipice
Admiring the view
Knowing fully well
What stepping forward blindly will do
He said, “What’s your favorite color?”
And I said, “You.”
From the initial dawning

lithium sky met infernal waters

and it all went awry

the light of happiness

constituted halos

leaving intimate words

paperclipped, tongue-tied

and love bruises

upon inner thigh

the wellspring enveloped

char and holm

with faint kissed alkali

abating the stormy umbrage

as if a softly whispered lullaby

and suddenly along this watermark

only you, me

and the need to multiply

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