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Francis Nov 2023
“A mobster”
“Tony Soprano”
“Something out of Grease”
“John Travolta”
“You’re gonna whack me”
“A Greaser”
“The Godfather”
“One of those actors”
“Pauly D”
“A state trooper”
“A cop”

Want me to,
Tell you,
What YOU look like?
My entire life… because of how I style my hair and how I dress.
Dr Zik Apr 2020
Everyone is stunned
as passing through the graveyard
no comments at all
Dr Zik's Poetry.
Empty, light and dull,
My school bag rests on one of the walls,
Once full with books notebooks and pens,
Now bear and deserted it looks small.

Yesterday, while clearing my shelf,
My class VIII classwork notebook popped up,
Those were also the days,
When our copies were neatly covered up.

These days I sleep late at night
because Now there is no waking up early rule,
These days I wake up at nine,
As now I am not running late for school.

My wardrobe is full of colourful shirts
But wearing the white one daily I miss,
No sport shoe can ever match
Wearing white PT shoes bliss.

While searching for a bowl I found my Tiffin,
But there was no lunch in it
Also there aren’t those people around,
Who jumped attacked and finished it within a minute.

I still hear the interval bell,
In front of my TV when I sit,
I still hear those gossips and laughs,
While finishing my meal, those several hands I miss.

I was bored of studying the subject,
But I had no water bottle to fill,
And no school corridors to take a round,
I realised it wasnt the fifth lesson in school,
So I quietly turned back to my musics sound.

Every time I doodle
I remember bulletin board
I remember my house duties
Every time my nail grows

It’s raining and snowing these days
But nothing is as fresh as sitting next to the window in the class
Blankets in Quilt dont allow us to get out of our beds,
But nothing is as cosy asSitting on the seat at the last.

Donning my new dress, I was getting my picture clicked,
But it wasn’t as special as our last seat selfie,
CCD’s coffee was also not able to,
Match the taste of a canteen’s tea.

I go out of my home several times,
But never does it match the bunking thrill,
I take various Scooty rides,
But never am I able to showcase my reach school within five minutes skill.

Every time I get a call from my classmate,
Our whispers I miss,
Every second every hour every day
For those days to return I wish

At 2:00 in the noon
I go to bed for my nap
I miss returning Home from school
I wish those days could be swapped..

Sometimes we don’t realise
How the smallest things have a large part to play
And as the days passed, and time flies by,
It’s only memories that we are left with to say.

Every single thing at home
Reminds me of school life
I want to relive those golden days
Just one more time.

A couple of months from now
We will officially be ex schoolites
Teachers scoldings punishments and failures
After that For every single moment we will strive.
A heartfelt from a 12thie
Xella Feb 2020
The flip of a coin the confirmation needed
by me to believe in my choice.
50-50 and ill take that.
Live by that-
My psyche like yours confused as hell by the rules this
world produced through the build up of opinion shot out
into bruises by the vessel of- us.

So a flip of a coin is enough confirmation but
the words of a friend make no difference,
the opinion not taken the validation of likes and comments
to make you feel good in a second endorphins.

The flip of a coin enough. but the pain in the comment made. Worth,

These technical uprooted events. Enough!

Find a friend and listen-

Listen to what they say
Listen to the people in your life, not the virtual numbers.
MSunspoken Jan 2020
Have you ever felt stricken-
By a false statement
Or cared to comment on destruction

Maybe a phrase
Or simple statement
Had ruined your day

One may think they know
But at heart
Nobody may ever-
Because a poet's words reach deeper than the heart
In fact
They carve into your soul

Perhaps someone can connect to an idea-
And make it their own,
But a band with just one beautiful trumpet-
Can never share the credit

Although unintentional
One “harmless” comment-
Might just lead to a string
Of awfully wicked assumptions
A poem can speak a million truths, the only difference is circumstance.
leonard zinovyev May 2019
How can you see anyone smile
in a phone call, anyway?


but they didn’t say
they did a Skype call,
just a simple phone call.

I am at a loss for emojis.

We are a toast.

May this end soon.
Poetress2 Apr 2019
To all of you,
I want to say;
Thank you for bringing,
Sunshine my way.
The comments you leave,
truly makes my day;
I no longer feel,
my words are in vain.
I do not write,
for compliments;
I write for all,
the ones' depressed.
And what I pen,
is from my heart;
I have no other,
place to start.
So thank you all,
for encouraging me;
Sometimes that's all,
I ever need.
Glenn Currier Mar 2019
Sometimes diplomas are deleterious to a degree
it seems the cap, gown, and certificate holder
buys a telescope and starts using it to see
loses the ability to write freely and bolder
becomes particularly adept at speaking in snark -
so much easier than personally and intimately connecting -
preferring critique to finding and being a creative spark
becoming expert not so much from practice as from correcting.

I knew a man who used to be my friend
until he acquired his PhD
then he began to depart and ascend
too high for him to see little ole me
I knew a few too who were doctors and buddies
whose degrees didn’t pedestal them
who didn’t let their higher studies
erase their humor, make their hearts go dim.
This was inspired by Chris Sorrenti’s limerick, “Comments” ( in which he bemoans a certain guy named Dupreʹ who had an English Literature degree and habitually made snarky comments on others’ poems on a poetry website but never posted a poem of his own
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