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Ithaca Apr 2019
Wandering eyes shifting
Gorgeous smiles lying
Friendly spirits lifting
Quiet voices dying

I walked past him again
My quiet overcoming me
I walked past him yet gain
My quiet destroying us
I have a nasty habit of ghosting people
Erian Rose Apr 2019
If I could tell you how much
You make my heart pound each day
I would lose sight of the Earth
You blinded me
From who I could be
johannah Apr 2019
speckled
with contradictions
and hazed silly fictions
it races at brushed
fingertips,
the soft touches of lips
it longs to feel home,
in a world so far
from its own
there’s a fluffy cat
with white paws
that does not yet exist
in my life
and a song playing so softly
like the breeze
of a summer afternoon
Silent colors swaying away,
Like a blade that cuts the stars.
A far reach,
Yet close enough to blind.

The emotional synesthesia of my heart and mind,
Conspire to light the fires beneath,
And set myself ablaze on the flameless pyre.

I stare at the wares that I have created,
As I continue the debate with me, myself, and I.

Ticking away.
The timeless eyes.
Bear witness.
To the lightless skies.

The silent colors.
That only I can see.
These synesthetic linguistics.
That fall away.
Onto the synthetic pages.
To which you read.
this is the color black that i read with today.
I just follow what my mind tells me to say,
and hopefully one day,
the words that I write,
will cure this fight,
that I believe may never end,
if not but when this happens,
I may just  walk away,
because without this fight...
I wouldn't even know what to say.
False Poets Apr 2019
words conveyed with a mutual clarity parity for communication
will end only when the world ends first
and the communitas is no more,and words, exist purposelessly  
for there is no left with whom to communicate, precisely

but now, of this moment,
write words, sentences multiplied but circumscribed,
verses with mystical aura,
whose utility so suspect and multiple meanings hidden within,
taken by you for the specific utility you uncover and create

ah, to write of things clearly visible to all,
but possessed differently, by each reader, this is the greatest commonsensical commonwealth useful
for and of humans indexed by unique word tendons tenderly

when this passes, when literature no longer
can be messengered to 127 Persian provinces,
each the message same,
yet given up in 127 different languages^

when you understand my poems perfectly then,
their utility is inutile,
the usefulness is in the
nth reinterpretation,
a million and still counting,
as long as you must guess at its labyrinth wired inner construct,
being pleasured by the roiled and rolled curves upon your tongue,
a lives paired wine tasting, together believing
in the greatness of joyous frustration

some say, I do, the world is better for the
utility of thine own struggled understanding,
the truest combination of two way communication,
surpassed only by our armed embrace at last




p.s. Pradip, be careful what you wish for....a poet false...


9:15am  April 3, 2019
^ Book of Esther 1:22 For he (the King) sent letters into all the king's 127 provinces, into every province according to the writing thereof, and to every people after their language, that every man should bear rule in his own house, and that it should be published according to the language of every people.
Lake Mar 2019
i don't like you
and you don't like me
it's never eye to eye
what you and i see
i can't talk nice
i never think twice
go on and on
bout how i'm wrong
if that's how you feel like
i think i did all i could
but it's clear you never would
admit that you hate it
why do you tolerate it
just don't act so cold
both you and i know
that it's inevitable
and downright impossible

you can't please everyone
maybe you don't need anyone
when you can't tell who to trust
if it'll all end up a bust
there's a limit to everything
right now i can't feel a thing
i can't tell you how to live
so i won't mind if you leave

i don't need you
and you don't need me
we can go our own ways
but you would never say
that to my face
i wonder what it would take
to give myself a break
can't tell if i'm satisfied
when i'm looking through someone's eyes
overthinking every decision
always believing i'm the reason
everything goes wrong
i should just move on
i should try to focus
on what's really important
if i can get pass the worst bit
i'll feel like i'm worth it

you can't please everyone
but even if it's only one
then maybe that's enough
i don't need too much
always needed one thing
something to believe in
now it's easier to breathe
i'm just gone like the leaves

i'm not gonna lie
used to think i'd die
always knew how it'd end
pushed away every friend
now i'm making ones that count
ones i wouldn't live without
made it with their help
and one of them's myself

you can't please everyone
but even if it's only one
then maybe that's enough
i don't need too much
always needed one thing
something to believe in
now it's easier to breathe
i'm just gone like the leaves
a song but also not a song :))))))))))
memoona kazmi Mar 2019
and if we aver meet,
there will be moments,
i will look at you,
without any reason,
yet with a meaning,
i would love to see,
how you move your hands,
in space while talking,
how that pretty smile of yours,
spread on your pretty face,
and i would you to,
shake my hand,
and,
ask me whether i am listening to you........
-memoona kazmi
Masha Yurkevich Mar 2019
~

When life shuts

a door...


open it again.


It's a door,
that's how they work.

~
Bus Poet Stop Apr 2015
eye sometimes go to bed wearing an old hoody. It has a metal zipper  to close the front and the zipper is always cold, unpleasantly so, on my bare skin.  After awhile though, my body temperature warms the metal just enough, that it is no longer a cause of discomfort though the metal still remains inherently cool to the touch

While science can easily explain this I guess, I felt this to be a major miracle.  That flesh pliable and heart-heated to 98 degrees could conquer the molecules of metal that were made in China struck me as extra ordinary (always two words, please!) and nothing short of a personal intervention by a personal deity

When I put the hoodie on at first I would think
******* (that's cold)
When I awoke, cosy and warm, I would think
******* (that's so cool)

having studied philosophy in Cleveland,
I knew that the logic of the situation,
what I had experienced was not an
interregnum, but the invisible intervening handiwork of god, who, also knocked my glasses from the nightable to the floor,
just cause she/ he was in a bad mood, on account of having to come such a long way, just,
to reheat me
one more time.
In terre gnum - freedom from the terror of chewing gum discard actions and a phobia of gnus
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