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Allesha Eman Jul 8
With an overcast sky, summer warns us
the moon stops by for a brief conversation
before taking its leave, replaced by the sun
I stitch together sheep counts, Z's, and dreams
but these days drag into my subconscious
and streams of melancholy drain into one

You shake your head, watching me
it seems I have mistaken midnight gloom
for rain clouds and thunderstorm doom
Summer's warnings, now clear as day,
everything they were meant to say
I tend to overthink and underthink everything we are

When winter comes,
with endless hours of midnight
maybe then, I will have enough time
to consolidate what we are destined to be
unmistakably
f Jan 8
lay weary in bed with me.
let the minutes morph into hours and hours into days,
the world is right here at the tip of our fingers,
in the way we embrace one another.
lullaby from home
First Date

We promised a beach trip to each other
I count down the days, hours, and minutes
Til my release into your arms.
Third part....
Ken Pepiton Aug 2021
Heal the earth… kinda crazy, but it makes good sense
the message on the label in tiny type,
and the smell is heaven on earth,
peppermint after rain

A nod to Dr. Bonner, shouting in the distance
with the thunder over Laguna {no name}
high above long valley mountain
south of the valley we occupy,
we thunder resonaters, making me think you

know how we think
we mortal messengers are doers of evil
deservant
of natural resourceful sources wrath,
and bitter life worth attacks, dis-easing the peace
--acts of God the English insurers of ships said.
-- Real life.

Ida known, seen on the weather channel,
I asked for some of her water,
as a twist in the spin of the eye
of the storm,
in the per-ifery
of rich and learned influencers
twisters of eddies
in thought named
nought or ought points,
in the long game
of spirits riding winds, with heirs
of the times
when answers changed from wind to words

Ghost Riders in the Sky, I swear
the song made something of me, when I danced
this dance - this after the rain
smell and feel
in love
of the slightest touch
of Ida thunder resonating, ring of re
cognition, ignition, be ware heir
of wind, re allowed tall tales,
Pecos Bill, if y'will, re
son-ate, wait, set arope ona tornado,
with a gentle, look-up,cauughtcha houlihan.
{ hey hedgehog, were you looking for a horse?}
Gentle, think the stupid metaphor holds more hints…

and let goodness and truth tame y' tongue.
Ida reached out and kissed me.
phugginay-ee ha
say see
cloud dancers come to make me believe
I asked for this.

Thunder, echoes, no lie, as I imagine
you laughing, felt it too, just
then high up,

see, the thunderbird
from my story,
I told you, wait and see, many things that seem
good are,
always far better than the lack - after
grip loss on con science use
of their wisdom--
ouch,
imagine that
would become, as a festering sore,
should we not resonate the joy
of rain in
thunder peace, no anger-making-fear
declaration sound,

crack of
thunder is the world working
right, on time,
like attention, pay now, play later.

Hey wind talker, can you send some to Dakota?
We could
think so.
I think
it takes time,
but soon we shall agree we know the way
of riders on the storm,

the ice will finally melt, the waters shall rise,
wetter us better, deserts agree,

Rain and wind in Baja in August,
cold truth laughing back at me, think
what you wish were true were true then

do what you do.
Laugh with the singing pines.
Laugh with the whistling pine's cones sailing
trailing soggy webbing with cargoes
of peace from my valley, washing
over me, as I laugh at the madness,
this appears to be,
were any mortal
to see.
It flows, this river of no return==It took an artist to set the type on the label
of Dr. Bonner's Castile hemp peppermint soap,
prior to Adobe's Venus on a halfshell Postscript patent
allowed the letters to be kerned and set as code,
vector lines to frame each symbol of sense

-- trippy hard to read teeny tiny type, but

with these tools, hypertext linkt:
https://www.sloww.co/dr-bronner-soap-label/
- expand your horizon read a blogger
Under
the night,
I now
hold you
deeply, as
the sun
of your
existence,
healing
hearts
through
only your
peace
alone,
your
painted
light in
your
touch
of lips
on my
skin
lightly
as the
petals of
the sky
around
us, in our
float,
I ask
for the
delicate
in the
midnight
hours,
where
dark
is light
and
sings,
“love is
in the
unseen”,
for we
see each
other as
we are,
in all of
atoms,
love,
space,
and
time in
the touch
of your
hands
on mine,
you are I,
from the
deep
blue
rush
in skin,
to the
sacred,
we return.
Jme Love Jul 2021
It seems so wasted
Time
Spent sad angry isolated
Minutes
Lost never to be found again
Hours
Gone spent regretting
Days
Empty no memories made
Years
Only wishing we could go back to the first seconds of that day
How much time we spend regretting things we wasted time on
Amanda Kay Burke Apr 2021
I spend my hours lonely
Staring at a phone that doesn't ring
Lying to myself
Pretending not to feel the sting
Around my room in laps I pace
Because it is hard to stay standing still
Restless and anxious
I can't concentrate
Distress is too strong to ****
A tiny part of me is relieved
To see you haven't changed at all
It makes it easier to stand nt ground
When back to you I want to crawl
You must be a magician
Putting me under a spell
With one wave of your wand enchanted
Conjuring heaven
We're really in hell
You keep my adoration in your pocket
Instead of in your heart
It's obvious I am the only half affected
When our lives are forced apart
It feels as though I inhabit a cage
Only when you disappear
Your absence holds me captive
Then am freed when you get near
Dancing on a narrow line
Seperating sense and satiety
If I succumb to my shameful desires
That means forfeiting my sanity
Trapped behind bars inside my brain
Cannot escape my expectations
Disappointment is inevitable
Yet I still surrender to sweet temptation
Shades of blue inside and out
Mixed with the occasional grey or black
All other colors vanished with my trust
I'm pretty sure they're not coming back
Cloaked in heavy misery
Weighs down my overwhelmed soul
You don't even have the decency
To return all the time that you stole
You placed stars directly in my eyes
Just so you could watch them burn out
Ignorance was comfortable
Til you showed me what I now live without
Silence chokes with an icy grip
Solitude freezes spirit right through my skin
No matter how many games you play with my emotions
I still participate although it's impossible to win
I almost titled this "Sad ***** Hours" buuut figured those who dont get that reference might be offended haha
Àŧùl Mar 2021
I feel scared when
I am alone in the middle of a crowd,
Which is almost always.
I feel irked when
The music is much too loud,
While the night won't irritate me.
I feel flared when
Someone abuses the language and are proud,
Which is also an insult to themselves.
I feel terrorized when
They proclaim that there's no one but Al,
Not to mention the time of their loudspeakers.
My HP Poem #1915
©Atul Kaushal
Zack Ripley Mar 2021
The seconds, minutes, hours pass by.
And yet, after all this time,
I can't help but sit back and wonder...
"Why?"
basil Feb 2021
i.
we both want to get rid of our last names.
maybe that was a sign.

ii.
we always talked about faking our deaths together
curled up on your couch when everyone was
sleeping. i hope you remember what my desperation
tasted like. at midnight i had to go.
like cinderella. but it was wintertime and the pumpkins
were moldy. you never came to my door with a shoe or a question.
maybe that was a sign.

iii.
you chased after her when i was sitting patiently at your feet.
she was joking about an anime i hadn't watched
and you got mad. the joking mad that makes you laugh until
you're red. the way you never got with me. maybe
scared that i'd run. the way you did after her. i know i shouldn't be
jealous, but.
maybe that was a sign.

iv.
i asked you what flavour i would be and you said
raspberry. i never tasted them the same again. you didn't ask me
to tell  you which you'd be, but i told you mango anyway.
who ever heard of a raspberry mango smoothie? one day i
made one. just to see what we tasted like. i could only pick out the
raspberries.
maybe that was a sign.

v.
you got a tarot reading from someone else. i tried not to be hurt, but you never wanted one from me. i was too cut up to ever
ask you why.
you told me what your cards said, and none of them were about me. i guess it's selfish.
but mine are always about you. god, do you even know
how much you break me? i must be addicted to it
because i stay. i stay and stay and stay
even when you get another tarot reading from her.
maybe that was a sign.

vi.
i always texted first. always.
maybe that was a sign.

vii.
i'm the one writing all these poems about you. like we're broken up. you never said the words, and neither did i.
but i'll never forget what the moon told me late that night
when you didn't linger at my door. half past midnight.
i try not to read too much into it, but.
maybe it was a sign.
i'm an overthinking ***** :))

i love you blue eyes. please stop letting me write these stupid poems about you. it really doesn't do me any good.
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