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My Dear Poet Jul 5
A million miles away
still is the closest distance
between our wandering eyes
Cyndi Jun 26
I wish I could cry.
I want to cry so badly...

Wish I could grant you that release..."

...Just another pain in a sea of agony;
one in which you guide my hands to swim across...
One in which you assure I'll cross eventually, I'll find land eventually if I just keep swimming because there must be land, there must be...

"I'll even carry you on my back if I must,
when I sense you're getting tired,
eyes locked on the horizon,
until we can see the distant shoreline..."

I'll keep swimming in hopes that one day I'll finally agree with you, that there must be land somewhere...

But for as long as I tread in this sea of tears I cannot cry, a sea I tread with no end in my sight, foresight, or hindsight
For as long as I bathe in this anguish and pain I see no tangible end to,
at least I'll feel your presence nearby
Treading a little ways away,
pulling my hand and promising of Zion ahead,
of a place where the most water I'll have to handle
will be in a tub or a glass,
where the loving earth beneath my feet
won't move out from under my kicks and steps
in such petty and malicious ways as the water surrounding me,
pulling me deeper,
seeping into my very soul does.

"There must be land ahead...
There must be....

I'll swim down to the ocean floor and build you and island if I have to...
If only I knew how."

A poem by Andrew Henriques and Lavender Palette.

This poem is actually a conversation between me and Andrew. You can read the original conversation here:
L Jun 21
"What do you mean, when you say 'angel'?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean why do you call me that. What does that word mean to you?"

"You know what it means."

"Sometimes I think I do."

"It means dark thing. Because there's a violence to it. Because it's hard to see. Like looking at the body in the distance- the thing standing between the trees, with only the faint glow of the moon illuminating its face."

"You think angels are dark?"

"I think angels are mysterious. You know they're there, but that's it. You think you know what they are, what they look like, but you're incapable of grasping their image."

"So, what does that look like?"

"It looks like everything. And nothing. Total darkness, blinding light."

"Sounds.. overwhelmingly incomprehensible."

"That's why it looks like different things to different people. A woman, a man, the recurring nightmare from your childhood. Some people think it looks wrong. But to an angel, there is no wrong way to have a body."

"Now why does that sound familiar?"

"I think an angel looks like a sword. Like the terrifying indifference of nature, and the undying, righteous rage of a person with a good heart. All and none, never wrong in their being."

"And this is what you call me?"

"Yes. This is what I call you.
My darling mystery. My dark thing.
My angel."
Kassan Jahmal Jun 21
Let me introduce myself,
as the ***** in your head. And a little bit loose.
What that means,
is you're a little bit *******.

I the *****, you the tool.
Doing in your head trying to fix yourself,
but only giving yourself abuse.
You act as a nut,
and bolt off to quick conclusions.
Aren't you much a mutt,
chasing your tail of your delusions?

How do live so well with a ***** loose?

Let me introduce myself,
the man with a couple screws loose.
Days I often tighter my thoughts,
so the don't tend to ******.
But it's really to keep them tightly grounded,
so they don't fly away like a wild goose.

I understand my self abuse,
doing in my head at times does me no good.
The deed very much fits my shoes,
but I need no reminders. So please tighten your mouth if you would.

How does one not live, without their screws once in a while going loose?

So you think yourself as someone fixed?
I know very much well in the coming days
you'll be looking for your next fix.
Don't try to act as if you're whole,
in your mind there's a crack in the wall.
And you know it's slowly becoming a gaping hole.

How do you expect to live that way?

I live my life as I've lived it as before.
Troubles of life do follow,
so much so, it's hard to ignore.
But I haven't met the ground, to say I'm stuck sitting on the floor.
So for me, I guess there must be more.

How does one fix something, if they don't know what's broken?

And before you utter another word
from your tongue,
Bite on your words, for your time for silly talk is done.
The screws in my head though they loosen,
they must still know their place.
I say this with a straight face,
you at times go misplaced.

I acknowledge you as the screws in my head.


despite how you love to start with me, you don't define my end.
The tools of the trait,
are moving forward when things want you dead.
I don't bite onto your bait,
for me to be easily mislead.

We all at times feel *******. But don't ***** yourself. ***** what the screws say,
you determine what to do with that *****.
Allesha Eman Jun 1
You write letters with your broken pen
after waking up from a dream
undisturbed, among peonies soaked in water
your feet rest against the sand
that once kissed the moon
and the stars write back to you
transcripts of our conversations,
like fragrance, they leave a trail in the wind
and we remember them
on those odd nights of wakeful dreaming
Celestial May 17
So much magic and mystery in,
only your tiny spark.
what is there to pin?
But that devious shot in the dark.

Already lit it's growing.
So fast and hot,
I wonder what's not showing.
For that not everything you got.

You may think this a goad,
It's just nothing else fits on this road.
Would it be a fantasy?
To think of a courtesy?

On your way,
I hope your light never fades.
Only to grow by day,
Showing all the shades.
Seeing through to the good. Moving past all the darkness to find it.
2am talking to you...
The hum of a neon sign, Emitting light so tranquil
Purple Luminescence on your face. The sparkle in your eye, it brings life to all...
The smile in your words     In comparison everything so small.    

In conversation vocalising the deep within

What can I say, 2am there is no filter Here.

The euphoria so intense
all Existence has so much Distance,
the world fades away...

Quizzed with the words you speak
Everything begins to dull
Everything so quiet and clear

The realisation of how much I hold you dear
I'd hate to think what I'd do  
Without you here
Theanm Ankh Apr 29
WHERE ARE YOU OFF TO? she asks me.
T o   watch the   s t a r s ,
I tell her.
U n t i l   they burn over and the Earth flares to an uncontrollable
i n f e r n o .
WHAT? she sneers.
N o t h i n g,   I just thought it was   p o e t i c...
Just by
A bit.
She gives her eyes a roll.
Or I imagine she would
if she knew how to roll her eyes.
" I T    DIDN'T EVEN   R H Y M E."
Martin Boško Apr 23
I am a ghost
I’m here to help
My soul is lost
Let’s find it then
In eternal torment, I am locked
I’ll find the key
Cursed by a wicked witch, the happiness blocked
I’ll break the curse, just trust me
Sentenced to suffering
I’ll get you a pardon
My state keeps worsening
The light’s coming, just hold on
Cold eternal night
I’ll bring the day, make you feel warmer
Mental fight
I’ll stand in your corner
Frightened of people
I won’t disappear
Battling my demons
Hug me, my love, I am here.
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