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Amanda Hawk Aug 2020
Love is delicious
Lingering deep in your chest
In a heart-shaped box
Pulsing slowly
You glow, flickers
In your gaze
And love finds a way
To communicate, deeply
In rhythm, and unspoken words
chang Aug 2020
Sleep calls from a distance
I turn; on a bed of yesterday's tears
and tomorrow's dreams.
The weight of their expectations
lies heavy like a nursing baby
on my chest.
I do not want it.
I'm afraid the bed is too small
for the both of us.
John McCafferty Aug 2020
Feeling unkempt from shortness of breath
Brain functions less as cloud covers ahead
Given a rest when energy spent
Lungs are suppressed
No control in the chest
Closeness too dense
Muffled words left to float in the air
Stifled and drowned
Faint from the crown
Blood pressure down
Warmth idling for me not to care
Few beads of sweat, heat heavy and wet
Recovery yet but soon on the mend
(@PoeticTetra - instagram/twitter)
Tahlia-rayne Jun 2020
You make my heart beat
like a drum echoing in a
darkened hallway
Tamera Pierce Jun 2020
I feel lost.
Like there is someone giving me the wrong directions.
I am constantly taking the wrong turn at the intersection,
My car is low on gas.
I am lost.
It’s like I am in the woods for the first time.
Every tree looks the same, every cave is new
Even though I passed it minutes before.

This feeling goes deep into my chest
And wraps its fingers around my organs
Squeezing them until my chest seizes up.
I sit at the dinner table while my body goes to war.
I guess it doesn’t matter though because there is only one casualty.

They say not to think about it.
Pretend that the feeling isn’t there.
Blink three times, and breathe.
Snap your fingers and breathe.
Whistle a tune and breathe.
Do nothing,
Ignore it
And breathe.
I think there needs to be more here. What do you think?
Ndeego McDaniels Apr 2020
I want to inscribe this piece with a red ink like the blood
For I want people to know that I scribbled it from the depths of my heart
Perhaps, they must discern the sacrifices that I make to mix these words into a cup like tea

Or, let me write this piece with a black ink like the crab’s blood
For they must know that this came from the beliefs of a black man with history, values and culture to protect. Alas, someone must be willing to tell our story the way it was, is and will be
For western civilisations have wiped away the classics of our time embossed and engraved on our hearts across the sea

Or let me write these few words with the blue ink like we used to,
For people reading this must know, like blue is to the sky,
My writings cover the entirety of the human race.
Wait, let me brew fine words from the lexicons of the old, for within their thoughts lies philosophies and secret elixir of life, immortality of the tongue.

Wait, let me write this piece with the utmost level of sagacity, prudence and wisdom, for my children must grow to appreciate my intellect.
I wish this piece  brings  some plagues to my desk, and a travelling ticket to roam the world
So where and how should I start?

Wait, I must make sure these arguments do not offend the big men and the highest
For they clench the keys to my door of no return
Wait, let me write about the contemporary issues in town, the trending news that all are discussing, for that will sell fast and put some few bugs in my pocket
Wait, let me read wide and re-examine my dictions, for issues of copyright and plagiarism can cost me my lifetime savings.

Wait, I must examine when and how I place my metaphors, ironies and oxymorons to fit in this piece, for literature students must study my works too.
Wait, when the power comes back, prompt me, for I did not save the last paragraph I just typed.

From the chest of a writer, comes the greatest dilemma of life, like Nelly or Kelly.
Words that are sharp and powerful to divide the flesh from the bones. Within the chest are graving issues of national consent, issues that matters the most.
From the chest of a writer lingers the verdicts of our time. Words that can make or unmake a nation.
Arguments that have the potency to divide and unite the entire universe.  Peace and War.
Poetic T Apr 2020
It was my birthday, the year
   of a curse I never asked for..

         ****** from the temple
of solitude.

Now I just breath
                      dissatisfaction,
that every 365 days I'm meant
                to celebrate the
incarceration of life..

Its overrated..

Blowing out memories,
       smouldering resentment
Inhaled when I've lived another
                   moment to the finish line..

Why is it taking so long..

Happy Birthday Day to me,
          I'm another year older
                       of my lame existence ...

I'm the candle burning out,
my breath smouldering as I
                   hold my chest..

Oh' well least I don't have to wait
another year..

My only regret...
                          I didn't get a slice of cake..
Pyassa Lias Apr 2020
She hums to the beat
Of my racing heart
And my deal with the cousin of death
Collapses and at once I resurrect
With her laying on my naked chest
I transform into a playful child
Fingers travelling at a snail’s pace
Through the traffic of her hair
A world stricken with war
All my life, I’ve run headless
In pursuit of the look of peace
And there it wore your face
And it’s beautiful
A Apr 2020
It's a hurricane in my chest today and that wind is howling so loud in my mind, so I'll just lay here on my couch and watch how the storm twirls inside of me, turns me inside out, and wait it out.
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