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Raven Feels Jun 5
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, this is the reason I write;>


dark rainbow rays mirrored on a ferris wheel
a getaway car in an edged escape to night steal

neon lights shimmering to hit the blind
whisper the whistles for an old memory on kind

like music blasting from ages of dreamt youth
sirens delight a heaven to the soothe

instrumental of the better sometimes wilder
violins haven hearts of lost on minder

crowds beat in one
rockstar of a blast concert as if none

sweat painted down the back
shivering sensations never seem to black

a run for life from the poison killing attach
even when the loneliest matters or not without a match

heard before my days known in my mercury
just uranused with a flaw abroad the mild century

is it for a regret?
to keep this mere on an impossible met

yellow on the head
better hidden not said?

a smoking pulse on a midnight walk to anger
hair torn feet split on a single dancer

hell of a heartbreak on rhymes
driving on blades on knives

upon screams liberate a burning love rosed
rare nostalgia again miracled an incredulous indie overdosed


                                                                                  ------ravenfeels
Man Jan 31
its all franchises
as far as you might see
burger joints, taco houses, and pizza parlors
dot the horizon

the whole lot
greasier than the pan
than the canola oil, a whole can of pam

its warehouse-sized stores
full of disgruntled
shuffling cheap trash
package to shelf
packaged for the shelf
in anticipation to sit

listen a while
under the low murmur
of the machine humming
you can hear ma n pop wailin'
Patrice A Jan 24
There’s always a line
between things
that defines one apart
from the other.
I believe it also applies
between you and I,
between mother and son,
between earth and sky
which is called horizon,
or that long line between what is
and what is not.
Maybe it’s God’s way of telling us,
“This is where you’re supposed to be
and this is where I’m supposed to be.”
And those lines also have lines
in between
and in between
and in between.
Bridges,
arms,
fingers.
They all begin on one point
and end on another.
Two small points
that somehow stretch the distance
and split one apart.
That is why, when we are holding hands
we tend to look at the sky,
down the river,
or at invisible horizons—
never to meet the dots
of each other’s eyes.
When I first met you,
I had yet to face you..

Memories dug deep,
Presented as a heap..

Resemblance of me,
Your semblance deceived..

Ungrateful eyes,
And a fateful life..

Stories untold,
And memories unfold..

A gaze and a stare,
Within the rage and despair..

Two strangers meet,
And sane they leave..

To horizons unseen,
And boundaries within..
You can communicate via eyes.
Alex Scaife Jun 2020
My dream of a new land,
Of ignorance come truth.
I sat atop a peak
And found myself unmoved.

Ancient wisdom of ash
In which I found just dust.
Oh, Truth! You stole my dream, now
I'm cold atop the peak
About achieving a dream and realising it wasn't all that you hoped it would be. The pain of the real takes away your fantasy that kept you moving.
Aŧül Mar 2020
Our Āryāvärŧä is in danger,
Our home planet since eternity,
Now we must all perform an exodus.

A mass exodus wasn't something we planned,
It's an emergency as our planet disintegrates,
Our home has now endured a nuclear war.

The third orb in the Helios system supports life,
We must vacate this planet and go to that one,
We must, regretfully, forget our memories.

The planet currently houses primitive life,
We shall escape this unfortunate nuclear strife,
We need to utilize that planet for our own good.

The big C that kills us here,
It would not be there,
At least for the time being.

We shall go the Āryän speed,
Call the planet Přŧhvī now,
Since we need a Mother.

Goodbye, oh planet Āryāvärŧä,
You were the Hïnđū Māŧřä Bhūmï,
Now New Horizons we must choose.
My HP Poem #1835
©Atul Kaushal
Eloisa Oct 2019
Her heart hungers for the essence of her being.
She continues to search for enlightenment
and peace.
Thousands of heartaches and trials,
she met along the path of finding herself.
She carves out time every single day to reflect.
Then she realized.
There’s no need to search outside herself
for answers.
She found the answers
where she found the questions.
She found the answers inside herself.
Meaning is what makes one’s misfortune worthwhile.
The storm came to teach her how to sail
and she continues to catch the wind.
Confronting the ocean’s of life moment after moment,
she found the strength to leave her past
to the shores
and just brought the lessons she has learned.
Then out she sails for her new horizons ahead.
On life's vast ocean diversely we sail. Reasons the card, but passion the gale.
Alexander Pope

When defeat comes, accept it as a signal that your plans are not sound, rebuild those plans, and set sail once more toward your coveted goal.
Napoleon Hill

To desire and strive to be of some service to the world, to aim at doing something which shall really increase the happiness and welfare and virtue of mankind - this is a choice which is possible for all of us; and surely it is a good haven to sail for.
Henry Van ****
Willow Aug 2018
I work in a field all day
To repair garden beds
And to grow new plants
With the destiny to be harvested
Whenever “our hearts desire”.

I work in a field all day
To repair a physical burden
And to grow new dreams
With the destiny to be reached
Whenever “our hearts are able”.

I work in a field all day
To mend a broken soul
And to grow new connections
With the destiny to be healed
Whenever “our hearts become stable”.

I work in a field all day
With the exception of a distraction
Then I look up to the clouds
And get lost in the wonder
Of when “I will find you”.

I work in a field all day
Yet find myself disoriented
Because my eyes have wandered
All over the sky
Making up for “lost time”.

I work in a field all day
Looking forward to heal
Hoping I’ll hear from you today
Knowing the sky is infinite
Just like “the space behind your eyes”.

I work in a field all day
I catch myself staring into the horizon
Remembering the time I saw your eyes
And how indefinite the ending was
Even though “the line seems so close”.
If “your eyes are like the stars”, as they say; then the sky will do well enough for now.
Isaac Jul 2018
We all want our poems to trend and get views.
But when that is your focus, you're the one who will lose.

Striving for popularity can cause you to lose clarity.
Pulling you down a hole of insularity.

Instead, look ahead!
There are new horizons to be tread!
New poems to bloom happily in your garden bed,
no matter whether they are noticed...or even read!
Written 27 July 2018

Focus on writing a poem more rich with value than all your previous poems.
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