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Rosmary Penn Dec 2020
air is growing thin
as I float off the ground
the dreamers finally awake
now nothing holds me down

wandering into space
passing the atmosphere
seems my perspective
is too cavalier

running out of oxygen,
breathing goes slow
my dewy eyes reflect the stars,
like a canvas of Van Gogh's

I hear vibrations
this is my castle past the sky
where no-one asks how,
and I never wonder why

my body grows numb
as I float past stars
through my veins,
flows my liquid heart

peace like a wave
rushes over me
laying on this cosmic foam
it gets hard to breathe

I shed a tear
and then another arose
soon I was surrounded with these crystals
as each drop froze

with no gravity,
my walls collapsed
loosing all feeling,
I couldn't react

a syrupy smile spread
across my softened face
so do not be concerned
if you see a girl floating in space
would you join me? or would you rather stay grounded on Earth? why? tell me in the comments
Valentin Busuioc Oct 2020
the only tattoo I still have
and that I will never erase
it's my mother's face
left on my right arm

since then
every baby I take to my chest
calmes down and falls asleep immediately
cheek on cheek
forehead on forehead
all four eyes closed
dreamers
Jaden Allen Oct 2020
I saw you

In a pale blue

Familiar face, but confused

Translucent heart

And dried tears

I could count, all your fears
.
.
.
Strange that you already knew

Vaguely what we had to do

In a search to find the truth

It scared me, more than you
.
.
.
You held my hand

We count to ten

I was wary

We jumped over the crooked bend
.
.
.
Suddenly, the fear washed over

And we fell in love again.
My first post.
Maria Mitea Oct 2020
In Between Me and You
I am speechless,
my voice screams alone,
you are not mine,
and I am not yours
This is all a dream,
In between you and me,
we search for each other
on the odd seashores,

Mountains and fields are in between me and you,
Rivers and oceans are in between me and you,
Stars are dying in between me and you,
and Gods are crying in between me and you
when the sky is breaking in two,
the all universe holds back us fade away,
in between me and you, are centuries
of waiting for the two dreamers to fly.

I beg you to live happily,
What’s in between you and me,
will ever stay,
you’ll always be the light in my dream,
come in my dreams when you can,
I will be happy to see you again,
how you live happily every day of your life,
smiling with the sun and flying with the birds in the sky,
come in my dreams when you remember me,
I implore you to live happily.

In between you and me,
You are not mine,
and I am not yours
This is all a dream,
In between you and me,
the all universe is waiting
for us to fall asleep.
Henri Coetzee Sep 2020
There exists a special type of insanity,
Only known to poets
And those who adore poetry.
It is something that cannot be explained
Or described, only experienced.

And those who experience it
Are never the same. They know
The burning need to write and read
And the comfort of finding yourself
In someone else's words.

This madness holds a hidden truth:
No one chooses this insanity.
Instead, it reaches out to those
Broken, disillusioned, embittered
And held captive, by life itself.

I do not ask you to pity the poets,
Or those captivated by poetry,
But the next time you see one
Ask them: Why do you love poetry?
And watch as their eyes light up.
The other day, I started talking about poetry and my friends couldn't understand why I loved it so much. That conversation led to this poem
Jessica Sep 2020
I remember the house
It swam in warm colors and somehow lived
It didn’t thrive, but it breathed in its own life
And in my naivety,
I saw passionate and smoldering beginnings
And the song would play:
“I’m gonna buy this place, and start a fire”
And I would sit on the roof,
With my eyes closed,
Feeling an extension to other universes that never would be
And somehow seeing stars in the city light that never existed
And breathing out air in the cold mornings while I wandered in the cornfields
Always alone
Seeking something that I could sense but never would find
But in some valleys I’m told the blind will finally see
And that’s a sort of balm to the dreamer’s restless distressed mind
Celestial Jul 2020
You are a poets dream,
If I am to be a poet.
Hair as light and fluffy as a cloud.
Yet dense and woven like,
Vines in a forest of trees.

You are a poets dream.
If I am to put words on paper.
Smile as wide as the horizon.
Yet devious and charming like,
the demons that are biblical.

You are a poets dream.
If I am to believe in the word.
Eyes as deep as the ocean.
Yet changing and searching like,
a lighthouse in the storm.

You are a poets dream.
If I am to keep the beat.
Hands as strong as stone.
Yet guiding and scarred like,
the seasoned boat captian.

You are a poets dream.
If I am to patch the scene.
Heart as heavy as an anchor.
Yet beating and living like,
Mine.
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