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My words don't Shake like William's,
nor, do they Frost like Robert's.
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My words barely lead the Way like Ernest's,
nor, do they have Hughes like Langston's. 
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I don't know how much my Wordsworth like William's,
nor, do my words keep people ******* like Edward's.
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My words are far from an Angel like Maya's,
 and they are barely Lovecraft like Howard's.
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Indeed I profess, my words cannot do those listed things, but, my words can be a great expression of me.
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(sumairu•¶oetry)
Vagish Oct 2019
We rise not to fall, we rise again and again not to gain
It is no supremacy what we pursue
But it’s the amity what we desire


We don’t know from where we come
But we know where we want to go
We don’t have a path but we know how to create one
We covered a long path and still long to go
We rise not to fall, we rise again and again due to pain
A pain deep inside the core
A pain which is shredding me apart
We endure the pain not for revenge
But for the love we want
We don’t know how to do
But still we try enough
Not due to regret but due to contentment
We rise no to fall, we rise again and again
And Believe is what we have…….
Axel May 2019
Happy ending is when the prince kisses the princess
Happy ending is when the bride is laughing with her groom
Happy ending is when people find love in a small room

But a happy ending to me is when I write poetry in a small room or under the trees and maybe sometimes in the bathroom.
Happy ending can be infinity
Happy ending can be a story
But my happy ending is myself and my poetry.
I found love in the words I write and I found love in the words I say
MJL Mar 2019
Sitting in a bowl of fruit
I hold a flower
Paint me with vivid colors
Make me look pretty
Or possibly as a reverent clown
With big floppy feet
In a contemporary return to classics
For the world to look and ask
"What did the artist mean with that banana, and why is that clown sitting on peaches holding a tulip?"


© 2019 MJL
Just a play on the definition of still life and contemporary art.... More than what people paint us to be.
Hamed M Dehongi Feb 2019
Oh! Woe to the poor captivated lover
Being trapped in love, but beloved gone

Oh! The moment I'm sitting as tulip alone
In my heart's blood, she is gone as wind

The voice of ax didn't come from Bistoon
Shireen is gone to Farhad's dream tonight

Oh! I will inform you of my painful alas
The day my enormous patience finally gone

Pity lover that flew your grapevine hair
With a hundred hopes come, gone unhappy

I am happy you abandoned all my rivals
Although, you left me as fistful of soil to wind

Mountains and deserts are mournful tonight
Lovers as Majnoon and Farhad gone forever
- Inspiration from a classic Persian poem
- Shireen and Farhad is an ancient Persian love story
- Bistoon is a mountain that Farhad had to finish a tunnel to reach to Shireen but eventually died there
- Leili and Majnoon is an ancient Persian and Arabic love story
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