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she met me up in brooklyn heights
and cried on my shoulder
saying life is hard
the leafs came blowing over my head

and she sat with that gleam in her eyes
of remorse and regret
and said she couldn’t go
because she didn’t know exactly 
what to expect
she left that night with tears in her eyes

leaving me a note:
“i’m sorry i’m not coming home,
i have to disappear
just don’t forget about me
as you start the new year”

she took my grounds
and turned them into mountains
she took my quiet collusion
and turned it to confusion
of which mostly I know

well now it’s been years
since I left new york
and I sit by the shore
under the california sun
and think about those years
and how easy she made it seem
to just disappear
Max Vale Apr 30
Life is a peach,
On these streets of California.
When you hit the beach,
I'll be sure to be waiting for ya.
Cali X
Andres Apr 30
Ty
Ty
Can i see California in your eyes?
I ask myself all the time
Clear skies and a bright horizon
Or just stay at home, watch attack on titan
Palm trees and long leaves, how I’d dream of your Caribbean
By any means, do anything, and go round and round just swimming in
Can the beautiful sunset land your kiss upon my lips
Can i soak my hands in the west coast water that is your hips
May i have the honor to bathe in the sun that is your gaze
May i please have you all to myself and with no refrain
Could you mimic the ocean and rock me to sleep
Or could you mimic my thoughts and desire, desire, please desire to be with me?
unrequited acknowledgement of beauty and worth.
Anastasiia Apr 23
With my toes in the sand
I let my tangled curls down,
so they could float in the air;
catching the wind and gliding through it,
like the seagulls do.

The current carries
scents of the deep waters
and all its residents;
I breath it in,
and fill my lungs with serenity.

A toddler stumbles,
landing on the wet shore.
He giggles as gentle foam
reaches his tiny body;
gets up and falters away.

As he grasps
his first steps of perseverance,
I rest my head on my knees,
peer out on the coasts of Malibu
and practice the art of gratitude.
Brianna Mar 28
It was New York.
La vie en rose playing in the background as you read a script you wrote the morning before.
The way your blue eyes look so sad and yet so peaceful and you smirk for me and me alone.
The way your hands are rougher then they should be but touch me softer then they should as well.
We were passing cars in the night.
Looking for each other as destinations we would never get too.

It was North Carolina.
It was green. So much green.
It was airports that seemed to hold too many tears and not enough smiles.
It was road trips that blossomed into a never ending love and irrational  fear.
It was summer in July and the way your lips found mine in every moment of every time.
You were the light I had been searching for my whole life.
And you became the darkness that was always there under my skin.
You are my unfinished book and my unfinished heart.

It was California.
It was never enough and thoughts that don’t ever truly go away.
It was watching you leave.
Your fresh start, your growth.
My jealousy, my envy.
My wishful and spiteful thoughts of wanting to be in your shoes but not wanting you enough.

It was Nevada.
Damaged and  uncontrollable.
The never ending fighting and back and forth insecurities.
Your ability to make me swoon and cry in the one sitting was gold.
The unquestionable loyalty I had to ruining my own life.
The sadness and depression.
The love I had but never dared speak of.
The way you broke me down and don’t understand my feelings still to this day.
***** and *******.
Your true loves.

It was Me.
My will to love too much and yet not enough.
My hazel eyes and mismatched hair.
My gaze of sadness and darkness watching the men come and go from my life.
My inability to connect because of damaged heart strings.
But
It’s also my strength in finding my flaws.
The power I have to change.
The growth at self confidence and care I am working on.
It’s me.
It’s them.
It’s someday... someday finding someone who won’t leave.
AvengingPoet Mar 17
A small piece
Of Americana
Maybe it isn’t all that bad

I live for it
I’m indoctrinated by it
I thrive for it
But each day is a darkening challenge
In This American Dream

I’m told I can go my own way
But is it all a lie
Told to us on digital screens
That make us shake and ache
Like a man looking for another dose

Cliches and buzzwords
Ones and zeroes
America, were you ever there?
God, I sure don’t know

I hear the art and culture
The music of New York and Texas and California
The comic fantasies of Marvel and D.C.
Your writers of fictions
And your Hollywood Dream Factory Machine
But do I pull myself up by the bootstraps
Or simply check my Twitter again?

But it probably doesn’t matter at all
I’m glad you’re here, with your vast land of religious zealots and cultural pockets

Everyday I hate you
Everyday I love you.

God Bless The USA
Deb Jones Oct 2017
Cataclysmic entities
Earth, wind, water and Fire
Have joined forces
To teach us a life lesson
About taking them for granted
Earthquakes
Hurricanes
Tsunamis and flooding
Fires burning so fast people
Can't evacuate soon enough.
It feels like Biblical prophesies
Are happening so fast
How many of us will outlast
This chapter in our lives
We are scarring our land
With fissures
With withered shrubs
With thousands of acres filled
With blackened stumps
With flooded cities
With mud and mold
With countries devastated
With yet still, talk of nuclear war
With so many people
Without the simple basics
Without water to drink
Without food to eat
Things we normally take for granted
My states treasures are burning so fast.
Napa Valley has been wiped out
So many deaths and lives left
Unaccounted for...
The blind and deaf elderly
Woman who died in her driveway
The 26 year old wheelchair bound
Woman who was forgotten by her own father.
The elderly couple trying to save
One another
But the fires were burning to hot and fast.
Miniature Stephen King stories
Of unimaginable horror and pain.
But yet...
The mass shootings carry on too
The police accused of brutality
While still trying to save others
It's never enough
The Trump pretense
The microphones ****** in the faces of people during the lowest point in their lives
And yet...
The undauntable human spirit
Continues to thrive.
The rescued, the rescuers.
The beleaguered, the relievers
The respect.
Media, leave us alone to try and Fix our homes and hearts.
Don't feed on our immediate pain
But don't go too far
Just wait until we are ready...
For our close ups
Sidney Chelle Dec 2018
today, i return to Massachusetts. i will step out of Logan Airport and breathe the air i haven't breathed in four months. it will taste crisp and cold. i will do my special little breath before the big one when i step outside. maybe the wind will hurt. maybe it will feel good. maybe the hurt will feel good.
today, i will be driven home by someone who drinks Dunkin and softens their R's, just a little bit. just enough for you to notice if you listen. i will look out the window for the one house with the one chimney and i will say "you can turn here."
i will pet my cats and i will lie down in my bed and when i roll over, i won't hit the wall. when i look across the room, i won't see the dark lump of my roommate in her bed. i will not hear her phone buzz quietly during the night. i will not hear people in the distance, shouting and singing and laughing.
and when i wake up tomorrow and sit up, ready to say good morning to my parents and my brother, ready to play guitar and kiss my friends and cook and drive and smile and cry, it will all be the same as before but completely different.
because i am completely different.
"you are of this place. it is changing you."
i am of Pitzer now. i am of California and sun and In N' Out and cacti and mountains and linguistics papers and psych memes and long walks and Laemmle's and McConnell and dry air and sleeping late and ramen and boba and love and friendship now.
i am forever changed.
i am happy.
to be young and free and growing up is the wilderness. we are the wilderness.
"you don't have what it takes to survive the wilderness."
i have explored the wilderness.
today, the explorer and her wild heart are going home.
Justin Zheng Dec 2018
Dear you,

I guess this is an open letter:
wish things could have ended better;

But I guess it's whatever

whatever.

I don't have a set list
I'm just gonna try my best
Limit it to about 4 minutes.



'poetry'

Got my airpods in now
Tryna grind until the end of time
Started with you I guess

True love ain't all about ***
cross my eyes and dot the tears
some wack **** coming from my mind to your ears

your touch got me ****** up
touched my phone took it out and made the call
couldn't control myself because of you

lost all self control; lost my soul


Lost my soul to you
lost it all through you
writing this helps change my views
how can I get through?

push into the obscure
past boundaries, past you

this one's dedicated to you

full stop. get out.
pull over, don't make me shout
r/drama, about to acquire clout.
these words don't make sense when I'm angry.

It's better if I take a breath
And relax
and relax/

Writing is so therapeutic I see
this pen is all i really need.



Man i got some ****** up **** in my head
but i guess thats what this is meant to breed
like, i got bars for days
no worries, i'm okay
gotta share this **** with the world one day.
thanks karthik for being vulnerable
shows that your heart was in trouble
can't even write straight
just gotta do enough
scrape by; get high
no lie i hope this don't die

man i wanna do so much with my life
i wanna graduate from nyu stern
i wanna fly to the moon
i wanna be that man on the moon


Poetry is my Jam
do you Slam?
Chance, man -- I know that man can.
Don't even gotta try
he just gets hella high
he learned how to fly
i Wish we could fly
had vivid dreams.

I wish you well.
not ****
Because I've been there and back
Bipolar; It broke my back.

Do you hear it in these lines I write?
Powerful emotion; primal thoughts of flight?

We are just chickens, you and I.
Do you ever feel that -- in your mind's eye?
Sometimes we feel like we can fly,
others we feel like we about to die.

Thankful for this voice I've found
finally feels like I'm above ground



*
Being Asian
is difficult I must say
dare I say?

*
Jazz vibes
I feel alright
swimming
into the sky
yes, I could close my eyes
but that'd be detrimental to the write

Long form lines to show you I can write
but who am you and who are I/
Binding two making an eye

Mitosis
vibrosis
nothing rhymes with mitosis

*
can you hear it in the voice with which i write
these primal emotions of flight
do you hear me do you hear me
it sounds like
do re me fa so la dee

or something like that

because sometimes x y z or 1 2 3

numbers and words; their meanings occasionally escape me.

*
like 1 like 2 like 3
what is this life that we;
live in like what you and me
are not even petals on this tree
of life you and me
are but atoms you and me
in this life of grandiosity

minimax do you see
compsci is just the start do you see
the matrix maybe not.

*
thoughts of paranoia plague me
afflicted; like a Zombie

punctuation; time; rhythm; rhymes
couples; words; emotes; I'm fine

Thanks for ******* asuking
like all the ******* time.

*
dawg
sometimes i feel like a baby

i wish i could just close my eyes
and be in peace

a scary thought, yes indeed
but what i really mean is sleep

a restless mind; yes indeed

*
I'm just going off right now;
complete disregard for my health right now;

*
i just got the best sleep of my life;
i lie.

don't worry about me;
i'll be fine

just go back to bed
maybe get some head

jokes, don't even own my own bed
a roofed hobo.

**
I got rhymes all night
yea, you know this **** tight
lemme grab it alright
****** chicken choke this mic

like

aight

it goes ******* on and on
this life of ours, it's an endless song
feels like an infinity ****
hurts when you never belong
the beginning
alex Dec 2018
i left a tear in the pacific
he sang gimme the beat boys
and i slipped out of my heels
imagined the ocean from atop a mountain
the waves had me swaying and weeping
and the salt found its way home
they hung lights over ocean avenue
these city streets and their poetry
have convinced me that home
was never anywhere else
i sat on the edge of the santa monica pier
and i knew
more than i have ever known anything
that i would be back.
southern california has stolen my heart. it can keep it, for what’s it’s worth. santa monica is home, all i need is the house.
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