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I would've loved to meet her.
The sweetness you spoke in her honor.
A gentle breeze in a month of freezes.
Electric, connective, explorative.

I would love to meet the next.
The sweetest of peas.
Only bluest when being overly fruitful.

Reflections of trekking tower of the familial tree.
Expectations of expecting in introspect.

Forgive me for being greedy, wanting to be involved in your life.
Forgive me for involving my love.

I shall let the resting rest, the ones that need rest to get rested, and give my mind and soul a rest.

Ifeanyichuku Okoro © 2023
October 24th, November 4th.
Sonorant Jan 2022
I would have sculpted you a shelter from my bones.
—Never yours.
Tea Jan 2021
Under the stars alone and cold...
Remembering what has been told...
Wondering if cold I will stay...
Wondering if alone I'll be all the way...
Wondering what will be up ahead...
Feelings of feathers or lead?
Walking, shivering, further...
Calling, getting colder...
Listening, making no sound...
I can't possibly turn around...
So further I go...
Through desert and snow...
Mountains or sea...
Where is glee?
Tears, why are you burning behind my eyes?
Silence, why are you answering my cries?
Wind, why are you whispering in my ears?
Time, how long and how many years?
Pain, why are you the only one hugging me?
Joy, why do you let me be?
Have I chosen for these scars to be made?
Have I asked to live in this darkness and shade?
Am I responsible for this smile of mine?
How do I make my heart shine?
Maybe, I should stop looking back...
I am the one to make me run faster on this track...
So I lift my head...
And this heaviness, I shed...
There, now I see the sun and the rainbow above...
I now know how to laugh and to love...
Smile, I have missed you so...
Happiness, I won't let go...
Laughter, I'm glad I opened the door...
Love, make me fly above the floor...
I found the missing pieces and am gluing them together...
Heart of mine, you are lighter as a feather...
Soul, don't fade from me...
Even if it hurts to see...
Scars, I know you teach me where to go...
I'm thankful for what I know...
Experience, good or bad...
I'm glad I can learn by losing what I had...
I'm not scared to smile or cry...
Both are necessary, it's no lie...
Hug yourself with a smile...
You are so much more than a computer file...
No matter who you are, I'm happy about you...
Reading this, I hope you are too...
Grey Jan 2021
It wasn’t “I love you”
but at least it was goodbye.
I never knew your name
I never knew your face
Until the day they lowered me
Into my grave

You thought you were invisible
When they passed you in the street
Are you still invisible
If nobody can see?

I never truly knew you
Till we met on the other side
Funny how a story changes
When you are granted sight
In the end we met
We both could see
Neither of us were invisible
Ken Pepiton Nov 2020
Your duty is to learn...
what exactly can never happen.
Mine is to prove that could.

Waiting for results,
patiently possessing all the commercial good sense
being made on TV and YouTube, ignoring Tweets.

Finished Lex & E. Weinstein
Finished A World Lit Only By Fire-
puddled & splashed through pundit
performances of guessing,
this election, 2020,
the respirited story conspiracy, this is all the breathers,
mouth breathers
nose breathers, nose-in-mouth-out breathers,
rare mouth-in-nose-out breathers, rare
possible… one in eight billion is consistent
with inspiring research, to prove
is commonly considered odd - almost meditation,
but each breath holding real human spirit
influencing the entire ocean of opinions,
see, wipe the beading perspiration,
whew, we are
the conspiracy, this is us, breathing one
breathable bubble, in the sea of all knowns,
we breathe knowing,
were we all to breathe at once,
here is plenty of air,

why are you choking?
Sneeze behind your mask. Humor, not a rant, a silly grin when I imagine information flowing in laminar waves, till it hits the flats and spreads out. Powder River is in some spots a mile wide and one hand deep.
Raghu Pratap Oct 2020
My lover remembers to leave me a note,
talking about the time we used to talk
when we were lovers,
when our bedsheets aligned,
and the politics overhead too, made love every day,
and found the time to write spare notes - on cheap paper, and my borrowed pen,
to an amour she would not see anymore,
talking about the blue nights she spent with me,
my lover recalls with vividness
the words I had said to her,
before I could learn to speak again,
in this really long note she has left me, and
I can suddenly see time as I have never before, and
my lover looks at me as if she has never before,
and she doesn’t know when to stop, and her heart doesn’t stop so easy,
and I could stop reading,
knowing she might die soon.
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