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Ayesha Mar 2021
the universe watches with her
mischievous eyes
as silence stretches on
between me and the mechanical city

from up here, in winds’ embrace
the cars are decades away,
and lights only a vivid memory
straining the back of my skull

the universe, too, breathes
I hear her now
hear the vacancy stir
in her bones

one— and the archers running
down my throat
two, like the lambs slaughtered
beneath them eyes
three and four and nine—
cracked toe-nails laden with mud

—ten women weeping
eleven wishes for the wilting weeds
I sense a chariot
bumping down the ribs
twelve for the wounded boy
limping up the hill

twenty— a hundred
and hundred more

inhale

I fathom the seconds kiss their hours
and hours melting into days
weeks and minutes,
years and more
all chopped and cooked
to a frothy stew
I feel it fill up her being

and vehicles with their horns
midway
halt—
an owl’s scream stopped just
beneath his beak
and sun, statued, stands

a thousand and the stilled plane
twenty and five
for them frozen flames
sixteen— and the shooting star
taped to the night
— seven prayers left unuttered

three for now, and three
for the past,
three more as all, into the unseen, falls
two shivers, shivers still
—one and a lone worm crawling
down my veins
one and the blue child up, up the swing

exhale

I swallow
as the ticks sink back into the clock
centuries dancing again
— and months  
come stumbling home
millenniums and moments
back to their protests

as all the circus is born again
two for the pink boy,
one, then one more, for the yellow girl
we do not know what becomes of us
or where we stand— just
that digits and hues come rolling down
and we can only sigh—

27/03/2021
Ashlyn Yoshida Mar 2021
In the splashes of color the most purest form of emotion
seems to be happiness, as if this is the natural order of things
So in this sense

Humanity is yellow

And I am blue.
hmm
J Mar 2021
the seas of pain hurt before dawn,
before returning itself to the ocean,
escaping from the light it turns to blue anemones,
to be lost in a wave or waves of the memories,
discord turns in stillness,
the thought of ourselves hurt long before
and still after the first death,
men
women
dressed in the color of the soul breathe under
cover(s),
the children of our imagination laugh like a
bird of freedom dipping its wings into the sun
some of the winds of words sleep after the hurricane
Jay eM Mar 2021
Taking a break
Then you appeared

A new person
Something I feared

Your lips
Soft and warm

You calm, in me,
A never ending storm

Walking along
Hidden by trees

In your embrace
I feel at ease

Where will we go
Where will this end

I hope my time with you
Will be well spend
Hey blue
What made you look my way?
Could you stay with me?
Just a little longer
Or more
MG Mar 2021
I am humiliated
that I have ever let worthless men,
determine my self worth.
I am like the ocean.
Soft, breaking, blue.
But vengeful, strong, and powerful.
Oldie from 06/19
This insipid night, Time has thieved you from me
As angels and demons cry on the other’s shoulders
The Gates of Heaven open wide for you
The halls of hell accompany my misery
But one day… he shall return me to you
At the crack of dawn, my world will bloom colours
And on that dawning, I will see

When I gathered timber to set your pyre
When I bore you with my numbed sinew
When I laid you, gently, upon your bed
When, as you lay, I set ablaze your bed
I cast my heart into the consuming fire

Behind the roofs of my eyes,
Seething tears shrivel to hail

The scent of the carnations I braided to your hair
The allurement in the purple stretch of your lips
The nap of the face I once held in my palms
I gather shards of me as it all burns into the air
Like your ashes, I hold myself in a clenched fist
Like pounce, I am seeping away through its crevices

The fire I lit, he rages, swallowing my soul
To your ethereal suite, he ushers you, my paeony
The fire I lit, carries the ashes of my soul
To the one who received me
To you…

The air’s now a smothering dense smoke
I hold a smouldering purse… your ashes
  With my hollow soul, in my fumbling palms.
Cyra, writhing to hold you… I am broken.

This insipid night, her stars united to chain me
Her chain numbs my soul into the night’s blue
And every night after, that chain grew denser
Tallying every moment, I bide, for my sun to rise
That transfigured sun will melt her chains off me
And his sky will wrap me away from his rays.

Rest now, ‘Twas a long way from home
Until our sun ascends,
Goodbye, Cyra…
See you, Cyra. I hope you enjoyed this little work of mine.
Sakura Mar 2021
I am twenty, you are twenty two
See the sky is so blue
Let's gulp some mountain dew
And write a poem for you
Don't be so blue
Just chew chew chewingum chew
Sitting on top of a mountain
Just me and you
Just the grass and morning dew
Such a serene view
While listening music
Let's have a barbecue!Some wine and Belgium beef stew
Walking together down the hill
A sudden gust of wind blew
Holding hands together
Talking bit about nature
Birds chirping around the corner
It's Like a déjà vu
Let's travel to peru
And see the ruins of Machu Picchu
Talking about the sun and the moon
Let's get a sick tattoo
Who knew
What we will go through tomorrow
Is this true
Or...
I'm feeling a déjà vu
I'm meeting my Waterloo
KS Mar 2021
One second I'm fine,
and another I'm engulfed.
I'm falling back,
submerging in the pain.
It might be harder to breath but
it's familiarity gives me comfort.
I slowly swim my way back to the shore
but I stop as they utter,
"why are you in such a bad mood?"
"can you smile?"
and I think to myself,
the shore is not for me.
I would rather have the waves surround me,
numbing me from the pain.
annh Mar 2021


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she pins stars to the ceiling of my dreams ☉ and makes milkshakes of meteor dust and moonshine ☉ in my day, she sleeps swaddled in a billowing blue counterpane of boundless reflection ☉ in my night, she dances a path to eternity ☉ leaving me breathless and in awe of her spiralling splendour
‘That is where my dearest and brightest dreams have ranged — to hear for the duration of a heartbeat the universe and the totality of life
in its mysterious, innate harmony.’
- Hermann Hesse, Gertrude
E Mar 2021
The day that I met you
Was when I decided
My favorite color was blue
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