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Neuvalence Dec 2017
Now sit and watch
as the chrysanthemums
and the carnations with
their green holders and offspring
inhabit the rocky roads
leaving them no
space
to
breathe

       (indefinitely)

As mother nature
has successfully reclaimed
her throne;
This she has done before
       (terrifyingly; incredibly)
Though docile this hour
       (merciful)
This structure is somewhat different from my usual style, but I wanted to do some experimenting. Also you'd notice this shares a similar theme to my earlier poem 'A Stony Efflorescence'
Umi Dec 2017
The soil gives birth to beautiful flowers,
Therefore can it be called a "mother" ?
I asked myself this question for hours
But without a ***** it wouldn't bother
It would be lifeless, water is the only thing it devours
Oh mother earth, your beauty fascinates me
Oh dear Sunflower, have you found your special bee ?
Pollination is important, otherwise there wouldn't be flowers
Oh cloud, give us your water, so we can grow, we can see
Until winter arrives we will be filled with glee

~ Umi
Rashed Dec 2017
Rain Rain Rain
Why does the sky cry? Please explain.
Oh Rain Rain Rain
Have you angered the clouds? What a shame.
Rain Rain Rain
All your water is hard to drain
Oh Rain Rain.
I give up, I will no longer complain.
m Dec 2017
our relationship was notifications
banners I expected daily, without fail
ones that made my heart skip a beat
every single one i counted in my mind
they fell like coins in a jar, the clank- a smile

they morphed over times and months rolled themselves tighter and tighter, crushing us in its grasps

every time i see a notification
it’s not from you
i know
it’s almost never from you
and the coins in the jar have cracked it with each fall
and the shards dig into my heart every time i see
it isn’t you
i don’t know how to stop hoping that you’ll come back to me
that maybe one day i’ll get more notifications and it’ll be from you and-
i’ll smile
smiles seem so foreign to me now
what i do know is that it hurts

every notification that isn’t you is stabbing, twisting
and i turned them all off after I finally swirled into nothing but a cloud of pain
and i played music so loud i hoped it would crack through my skull
and i let myself dance
and forget

so what were we in the end?
us?
just a mass of notifications

how did they string together so well?
how did they fix themselves into a shape that convinced me to fall in love?

and how did they give themselves so much power
that now i feel myself disappearing bit by bit every time i see them

i’ve almost grown afraid of them

notifications
that’s all we were
and they themselves
omens of pain

but maybe that’s all we were too
Hey long distance ***** and she didnt love me enough to stay so i guess i’ll die ****
Jordan Ray Nov 2017
A cloud is inspirational.
It represents the human race without trying to.
Clouds like people can't stay stuck in the same place.
People live and they move on.
Oculi Nov 2017
One dose of a drug to make it intriguing
But we're taking more than that, reeling
Positivity out the window with these dead clouds
Oddity in bedlam for me, it has me wowed
So tell me why I feel this way
I'm not getting anywhere, but hey
90% of the things I've done in my life ain't as important as you
Sweeping that floor
K Balachandran Nov 2017
Gently I  woke up in an ethereal hour,
as the permeating scent of a wild flower,
after roaming many many lives as insects,birds
animals wild in the forests and sea creatures

As the story went on, chapters changed
I stumbled and fell in to her curious eye
with out knowing who she was or why
all I remember was her radiance and sigh
that lifted me,at once to a level too high

Later,after many cycles,a cloud,I realize this:
a piece of clear blue sky I need immediately
her blue eyes, to dissolve bit by bit and die.
Colm Nov 2017
The mind seeks to be
To express its worth
In metaphor and homily

And yet no cloudy day remains alive
Within your mind

As memories grey and overcast
Like a visionary dream once passed

You are awake
And yet your eyes
Are only aware of this present take
On life lived alive

No voice is meant to learn such things
Or to recognize these passing clouds
Which have long since passed you by

No cloud is ever exactly as remembered within your mind
What truth do you find in this? (:
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