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Dusk,
An orchard in the sky,
Of clementines,
grapes,
plums,
peaches,
fruit abounding,

Families,
mothers,
fathers,
little brothers,
babies,
All stir
In the direction of
Laying down,
Sleep,
Rest,

Every family,
picks fruit from the orchard,
One by one,
until there’s
Nothing
but a blueberry
canvas,
with stars filling in

All heads
Hit pillows
Blankets
Fold over shoulders
Eyes close to
loved ones,
stuffed creatures,
and favorite toys

They all
give in
to the steady
Cadence
of nights
in Suburbia
Farah Taskin Aug 5
Depression has eternally descended in the ether
Dust,dusk,dullness and darkness are trying to gather
The ghosts are setting out for the adventure
Oh dear!


Dunes are dancing
Snails are smirking


The oysters are hiding their pearls
Evening primroses are starting their prayers


The whisper and the whistle of the mauve twilight are being felt
Emptiness and silence are being smelt
TIZZOP Jul 26
stuck between pride and ****** mood
lurid lights, laughter, ladies, lively lips
we are 96 souls away from the magic
and we nevah wake up or get up, nope

i swear on my momma's grave and pray
may she rest in peace with good ghosts
wise man told me to wear a black suit
me, tho', forgot if i did so, can't help it

was i trippin from dawn to dusk again
probably but ya gotta triple that time
and consider the weirdness of my speech
dem words stumble other words upon

meanwhile me and milly made luv to luv
luv laid back like rasta villages, jah songs
she's spreading her legs and licking
13.8, worship the fountain, that's basic

gangsta poetess & burglar, membah 108
while meetin milly, i imagine her naked
64 minutes later, lolling on silver satin
the lips such big perfect matches

by the end of the day we float over glaciers
our months vanish within a few days
hihaho, tickling trip, totally toony, truly
milly and tizzy equals eccentric & woozy

steering dreams, mysterious mixtures
golden goblets, served on light tables
we falling into the floor, a voltgreen maze
wondaland's gardens, we reach 'em

frozen loops of yummy yearning, yeeeah
all dem blankets and pillows, hundreds
in a bed spacious like a football field
a quarter of milly's back is my tattoo

parking lot at 4:16 am, 24 k bracelet
gotta look at it under the light of the sun
reminds one of eazy legs & adorable greg
we come, observe, read, blast and leave

stuck with mental blankness, in limbo
block party of creation 96, 2056 souls
oh my, sweaty forehead, i'm so cold
burning bloodshed, beasting bloodbath

marriage of mystery and skyline tales
sparkling are the eyes of yayo vampires
8 days awake, bangin in sky dunes
schmock, dinosaur, sole talker
selina May 16
times passes slowly now
the only times that had mattered
have all rolled on by

gone with the wind
and the dust has now settled
memories fade with the rays of light

our golden hour is in the past
night falls onto our shoulders
my mind is hesitant to say if it is heavier

than the weight of your words
when you said you were finally happy
my heart bled gold for you
Brian Yule May 2
Nightfall's halting progress
Nightingale alights on lush gorse
Faint glint of lamplight on beak
From shed door left ajar
Within, the gentle thrum of lathing
The soft mirth of shared labour
Hushed air atingle
Twilight stutters
& fades
A hedgehog snuffles
Aparna Apr 19
amaranthine horizon 
tranquil mauve undertones 
sombre coalescence
serenity
for some time now i have been thinking about the possibilities of my beloved having drowned in the same abyss as my own. i will not ask them—no, i do not think i can, because for the longest time i thought that it was only i whose lungs had been suffocated with the inner conflict of whether or not my thoughts meant something, the confusion of whether or not what i had been feeling were mere ghosts of forgone memories.

for reasons like this i have decided to remain sunken, a living personification of a ship wreck, half fallen apart. how dare i assume the best of them when i knew fully how sorrow shines the brightest when Moon hides herself, too cowardly to confront Night.

perhaps i have been achingly comfortable with the growing silence of dusk. all are quiet except chirping birds and a few hundred tireless, dissonant fragments of the mind. how frightfully calm they become as day breaks—a melancholic melody.

this is when i decide i shall stay awake to let life flash before my eyes for another day.
I wrote this after finally having realized that my close friends have been through the same things as me. They expressed them through poetry, as I am.
Prismatic pillars,
street puddles and tiled roof brown
a sunset playground

The fingers of dusk
tease the streetlamps' petals open
the city inhales
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