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You wanted to be immortal
Spent your days searching for the fountain of youth
Hoping to make a deal with the devil
But my love you've succeeded you mission
The answer was simple
To be immortal all you had to do
Was break a poets heart
Sabika Oct 2018
Who is the see-er?
This intelligence that does not speak with tongue
but it speaks.
It does not see with eyes,
but it sees.
It limits me
and I limit it
to a 3D structure,
and give it parameters
as I water it down to a name
water it down to a concept misunderstood,
because whenever I try to fit it in a box
it becomes imperfect to an inexperienced imagination,
it becomes crude to an arrogant mind,
it turns to fuel for a feud
while it remains as a fact
and we're all left behind.
shoutout to those concepts/experiences that no words can do justice.
Anya Sep 2018
I used to wonder if,
one who enjoys writing
and history
stories
and words
Is bad,
at math and science

I'm finding recently,
that it's really not true

Sure,
science may not be my strongest
subject

But I can take what is,
English
and use it to my advantage

I realized
I could make educational poetry
Funny
fun
strange
analogies
from the concepts
to the stories I love

And that way I remember them better

The world really is a small place
Not just,
among people
But also,
Among concepts,
ideas
Reoccurring patterns
...
Everywhere!
D Lowell Wilder Sep 2018
Oy.
Playing now with titles that are full sentences and poems that are almost absent.
HTR Stevens Mar 2018
As many poets come and go,
I am but one;
When I’ve imparted what I know,
My work is done.

I am here just to say “Hello…”,
This niche in time;
To watch the world, to note its flow…
Put it in rhyme.

Whate’er people may think of me –
Good, bad or mad,
At heart I am vibrant and free;
For that I’m glad.

I bid you farewell now, my friend,
Tho’ we may meet
In distant worlds, should this one end –
As old friends greet…
Cedric Aug 2017
I tried to read and understand,
Concepts and rules, plain and bland.
I laughed and fell out of my chair,
Delirious and in despair!
Simple insanity is grand...
A limerick depicting overloaded minds and laughing at it.
Zane Gorham May 2017
Sitting in a quiet place.
Listening to the ideas blossom in our minds.
The noise never ending.
When our thoughts and ideas dissipate.
They're eventually forgotten.
They were never spoken.
Billions of unsaid words floating around us.
Residual in the mind or not.
Theses words, they travel somewhere.
Whether these concepts were significant or the split second reminder of unwashed dishes.
These thoughts fly someplace calm.
That place, that realm is truly quiet.
This is a response to another poem I read called Silence by Ashly Kocher
Delta Swingline Apr 2017
Throughout our lives we develop our personality and our complicated states of mind.

And yet we still end up believing in our personal causes like it's world law. And sure, that may the most narcissistic thing I can think of right now, but it's my life is it not?

And yes, a lot of what I just said doesn't make complete sense.

So...

Just bare with me.
I just went through hell.
And it takes the bravest and best of us to come back from that.

You may not know what happened to me, so I'll pick apart my psyche so that maybe I can understand what happened to me.

So here we go.

Stick around if you want the details.
Starting a new series of context and crazy. Join in if you think you can handle it.
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