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Poetic T Sep 28
We live on the same street,

but you anit nothing like me,

This isn't a 12A,
    The kids in this will **** you for

disrespecting the other side of the street..

Eternal outlaws, as kids we knocked and run
                                    each others doors..

But i knock your door,
          you lucky if you survive,

              the third knock that is off the safety...

A hole fills your vacant look, holes at the front,

                    smudges that cant clean off your regrets..

I'll knock your memory into the past..

          mothers will cry.. but you'll never realise

that we aren't just one street.

But you look at me wrong, I'll knock some sense
                   into your frame..

Bruised moments..

You cross my gaze,
                   my street…
                               I'll make the black
vison of bow heads grace the road..

   But you'll not see,

             your the one closed eyed,
                                     while others weep...
Over thorns I have seen flowers lying tonight
I have seen moths near lamp dying tonight

I can see my vision getting blurred enough
Before me, I can't see you crying tonight

My speech is rambling on a prayer rug
And each wish from heart is flying tonight

Ever seen frozen eyes of a dead beloved?
Then, likewise my eyes are drying tonight

In the Imambara of Kashmir, Mirza! ***!
Ask your wish, why are you shying tonight
When flowers rest over thorns, and moths burn before lamps, and when all this happens tonight.
apiwe Nov 2017
Strip me naked
Expose the darkness of my skin
The sin
etched into the cracks
Bring to light
All my evil deeds and atrocities
Reflected onto my skin
Show them all that I have done
The dark lines along my chest
Show them all my evil
The scars across my arms
Show them all that I shouldn't have seen
The bags underneath my eyes
Leave me bare
Show them
That by some sick twist of fate,
even though my consciousness has painted itself on my body
where no one will see
My face still remains
Strip me naked
and show them
all that they've never seen,
When I looked into your sunken eyes ..
I captured  a broken spirit  
a soul  trodden down  
A life  not worthy not  to be loved.
I  saw  lost hope
But I knew through time your pain
would heal  with trust.
Brian Hoffman Sep 2017
There is this girl, blonde hair blue eyes.

Her stunning blue eyes get their color the same way water and the sky get their true rich blue color. They scatter light so that more blue light reflects back out.

Her hair shines so bright, as bright as the sun in the sky. Warming my heart during the daytime.

When I look into her eyes,
I see a beautiful ocean, peaceful and at ease.
I see gentleness and her personality coming free.
It's ever so engaging.

I tell her her beauty and personalities flourish.

She's a flower child.

She's the sweetest hippie bringing me peace and tranquility.

Her words can not describe her smile it's so contagious.
It's no wonder why she leaves me ever so speechless.

If I could be with this girl,
I'd do my all to give her the world in which she deserves.
Falling for this beautiful flower child. For once I've found someone who truly understands me. Our personalities and similarities are so alike. I'm hoping she realizes because we've become good friends I want more than that with her in the end. <3
bendo Jul 2017
brain enters,
stage left
the plot
running amuck in the crowd.
You can see the
dramatic irony
on their
It;s clear she
doesn't know her
part, or lines
it is obvious
she is
saying things she
thinks the
would want to hear.
And though
it is a prose
she does not recognize
she knows that
she has practiced
feeling lost and fake.
JayceeJellies Feb 2016
He feels the same pain that she does
Which makes her feel sad because...
The mask she wears,
he takes off and puts on,
But she sees the cuts behind the sleeve
Along with the smile that everyone believes.
Johnny Raven Sep 2015
This rope I’ve climbed for decades now
Has frayed from falls
From jagged rocks and
Bloodied blows of dialogue
Their firearms half-cocked
Breathing in this bile, this bog
Sinking slowly towards the
Unknown inhaling/breathing
People’s poisons I’ve lost my
Purpose, and I’ve never had a
Place I could ever deigned to
Call My Home
Beyond the veil, the hidden site
Have I once again gone mad?!
The faceless forcing wrongs
Twisting the twisted,
A manufacturing of tortured consent,
Blinded by a
Facade of Masked Wrongs passing off as a
Right - Evil gifts from the gifted
For the dead, for the fractured
****** screaming and screaming,
Confined in a cube of lead,
Paranoid delusions
Secretly inside am I just dead?
A walking corpse, decaying by I lost, I’m just an
Ignorant intellectual
Pushing back the bounds of
My own Stupidity, a silent lucidity
The death of hope or stripped of
Everything, Everything, Everything
Even the hidden hand, ever so
Gently holding onto that one
Impossible fraying seems.
Too afraid to speak, when spoken
That cultivated dreams strengthened
Over the years through nightmares
And a sea of pointless *****
Trying to force those pieces into
That missing space,
Some coming close, but never
Ever measuring up to you, my dream
Your emerald eyes, your beautiful face
Whom you brought into my *******
Life, a dream turned nightmare as I set ablaze what we were
You wisely walked away...and left me to my dreams….

When she spoke, my heart would skip it’s beats, I’d lose
The power of the English language
I'd lose the power of ******* speech….
And now that dream
Has come again…close enough to smell, close enough to make my Hell a little cooler, the shadows brighter, the burning soothed…
And yet…and yet…I cannot even tell
My Emerald Eyed Valkyrie,
My Heart,
Has always belonged to her.
There have been other women of course,
Carnal place holders, temporary sometimes pleasant company,
But in the end…NOT My Valkyrie, My Heart,
My Love, the only woman who ever made me feel and after Knowing my graveyard of a world shattering secrets…she still
Loved Me…
She still loved me…can that Dream, so fragile, when spoken it would Shatter into a mist of 'could have been?'
I held so gently that Dream of Old
Hands outstretched, crucified asphyxiation - anticipation
A Hope, A Dream, for Reconciliation...

-  Johnny Raven  ©2015  *(September 16th)
This poem is about the first woman I ever fell in love with. I had never felt anything. Nothing. Happiness nor anger, nor sadness...nothing. And the day I met her something happened. The more I spent time with her and the closer we became as friends, I slowly developed emotions and began my journey on becoming a better man. She discovered some things about me after we had a long talk about what she helped pulled me out of. She save my life, but she wasn't quite 100% aware of how much danger she had put herself in by doing so. That and the intensity of my love for her frightened her beyond the pale. It frightened me too. It was overwhelming. So, like an intelligent woman, she left because she was not able to handle that kind of madness at that age. I hated her for years until I grew the hell up and realized that she had done the right thing. She is and shall always be the woman I hold all women I date up to. I know that isn't really fair, but lets face it. We all have checklists of what we want in a partner, mine just happens to not be a checklist, but an actual person. Now all I want is to rekindle our friendship. I really ******* everything up back then and only recently she has began to communicate with me again after years have passed. So at this point, I just would like nothing more in this world than to have that friendship we once had back. She is and shall always be an inspiration for me on a great many subjects and character aspects. She truly is a wonderful woman.
kelia Sep 2015
the inside of her legs are numb
she spits poetry out like chewing gum
tan thighs - brown eyed
"you're a monster, kiss me goodnight"

spinning lights inside her head
the blind spots come, she'll leave you dead
ask for taco bell and then she runs -
leaving your trousers half undone

black and blue drip from your eyes
"she said she loved me, then she died"
sleep in the backseat to sweat her out
i have no idea what this poem is about
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