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I don't speak much,
But have a lot, to say.
I don't express much,
But have a lot, to show.
This is why i write.
I write, to fight.
Fight, with all that i store.
Expressions are meant to be expressed not bottled !
EP Robles Mar 7
IF you follow me bring the dead along for all the children have suffered and all madmen pollute || ~~ IS GAME OVER “? between sun-beating down & STARS beating
psychotic clowns/ the pogo clown has died forever.
If you could you might adjust your eyes against all monsters that follow
…kiss me if you survive \perishing is a buildingGRACE of reSKINNING the Soul
(oh whoa oh whoa oh wow oh no oh hey)
…just say the hardest price to pay //
are the things for free // eat and drink
remain my memory deeply between crimson &
sun-baked lips (music stretches thinner
e a c h & e v e r y d a y
carry on even if the stars extinguish
the very hurt you receive time &
space str e t c h ed pass a threshold of
mortal pain…you see and creation is reversed forward
God have mercy upon our weakened hearts
shame shame it’s the only world we have
and each other — there ain’t no denying (OH mother! No denying LIFE is a THORN against my eyes; as i bend down i try to find my BEING within a deeply yelled moan; i’m dying i’m dying i’m rolling round a desert stream — shambhala come again against trail dust and kasmir
i am waiting i am decaying i am a mote of Poet
t r aveling inside OPEN space considered: static syntax
and congealed moments upon the professional grace of unspoken
words. whoa…whoa…it’s the hardest price to pay when things
so expensive are for free.

:: 03.03.2020 ::
B Sonia K Mar 7
The sightless sight
Of a wounded soul
Captured in a rays of blinding darkness
All optical senses a quivering mess
Overshadowed by the pain of being
And of not

Loneliness grips at my heart
Tearing it up with unending tears
Enraptured by future unknown
And beautiful ones never to be had

Set me free!
That I may fill up this empty space
With the unacceptable
I must now accept as a part of me
And willful expressions
I must now acknowledge?

Oh ****!
All complications
The implications of our actions
Done or left undone
Knocking furiously
At the nearly visible doors of our mind

How pointless this must seem
Whatever will be will be
Live and let live.
Sovit Pokhrel Apr 2019
I sit and i think.
Think, and then i think some more.
Think, until there is no more.
Nothing else but to pour.

I sit, and i pour.
Words, lines, paragraphs and more.
I sit, and i pour.
Lines, up-down, straight, curved and more.
I sit, and i pour.
Bitter, Sweet and Sour.
Pour and i pour,
Pour until there is no more.

Empty and vacant,
Nothing to do now, but recieve,
Chip up & shoulders back, i smile.
Dust my self & prepare,
To be filled with,
And be fueled by,
Evidence of Existence !!!!
Life is simply flling, emptying, refilling and repeating.
Khoi-San Mar 2019


Bishal Adhikari Mar 2019
I was broken when we met  
And You became the reason
why I wanted to mend myself
—I really did
Your ways were rubbing off on me
I yearned alteration
A motive for my being  
—But it did not take long
For me to discern  
You were also broken
If not leveled then more than me
—But I am not going to cease
From this path You unleashed
I will break out of my brokenness
Not to show I am stronger than You
—But to aid You in becoming anew
So that even if someday we shall grow apart
You would remember me as someone
—who rubbed off a little something on your magnificent heart
And I would treasure you as my most beautiful fate
Because I was no longer broken after we met
uv Feb 2019
As a mom..
you always need to be prepared
As a mom ..
you need to make sure your expressions are well read.
As a mom ..
you need your baby well fed.
As a mom..
lack of tissues is a subject of dread.
As a mom..
less is always more said.
Motherhood is a form of poetry
U learn and u teach
And you enjoy everything in your reach.
Zywa Feb 2019
The plaster pulls the skin
my colour, my moles
and careful make-up
from my face

living flesh
looking eyes
expressive lips, my mouth
smiling at you

And you scan my mask
three-dimensionally, you hang
a field of registration points
on the red markings
at my eyes, nose, and chin

You trace back the dots
to feelings, then you look
at me, understandingly
From the void
of my eyes and mouth

the black holes
in the information
I try to express
what you can't see
Still, they don't show anything
Casts from 1910, of men from the island of Nias

“Face” (2019, Yannis Kyriakides),
performed by Electra, in the Organparc in Amsterdam on Saturday, February 16th, 2019

Collection “org anp arc”
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