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japheth Jul 2019
brainstorming

i sit down on a bus ride home and there’s this idea swirling in my head. i thought to myself,
“this actually sounds right. i should write this idea down.”
i took out my phone and wrote the first few words this idea in my head gave me.
i know I’ve written something. i know i’ll get back to it when i get home. i know there’s more to this idea in my head that will turn this few words into a sentence. to a paragraph. never ending word structures until i see fit.
i know i’ll finish this soon.

i put my phone down and stare outside the window. the view is nice. thousands of cars passing by as the traffic goes smoothly. another idea comes to mind. this time, it’s longer than a few words. it’s a jumble of thoughts. thoughts about cars moving, sound of traffic, the love of movement, and time passing. as these thoughts swirl like storm in my head, i pulled blinds of the window until only a slit of light passes through, a line of moving light flickering, i reach for my phone and open my twitter. i scroll through my timeline until the storm turns to rain, to drizzle, to quiet raindrops and at last, to a calm sunny day. thoughts i wish i’ve written, now long gone thrown in a heavily locked safe inside my head with the password written in a paper inside of it.

i scroll through my timeline again and i came across a poetry slam. as an emotional person, i cry at his words as if it actually was meant for me. as i continue to listen, the sunny empty day inside my head starts to create dark clouds again. it growls and rumbles, spewing lightning bolts down and i quiver. i am afraid. i know it wants to be heard but i try my best to ignore it. thunderclaps. it spoke. it rang my head till it couldn’t be ignored. i gave in.

i wrote. this time with all the words this dark cloud in my head gave me. there was no order. no structure. no idea. just words and pure emotion and i wasn’t stopping.

my fingers became a whirlwind. the storm in my head in sync with my whole body. i tremble. i am the storm. i stormed down the emptiness of a blank note page with thunder of words. rainstorms of emotions. lightning bolts of phrases, of sentences.

as the storm inside my head slowly turns to white, wringing its clouds to drizzle light rain. i add the finishing touches. the storm knows our work is done. it bids goodbye and gives me the calmness of white clouds and sun. i became calm and the bus stops.
Greg Piegari Jun 2019
The brain is a curious thing.
There is so much to it that we don’t understand, and even things that Science can’t explain.
   Yet the brain is essentially us.
And isn’t that an interesting idea?
That is the fact that even science agrees that we truly don’t understand who we are.
But there is one thing science and ourselves agree on.........we all want to keep trying to figure it out.
Abby Jo Jun 2019
Lately,
I can’t seem to get you off my mind
My vivid dreams wake me up in a sweat
My day dreams flash my un-lived life
I’m making up scenarios that further my debt

I just need to sleep it off, sleep it off
Tomorrow is a better day
The sun will rise once I sleep it off
Sleeping off my depression
Eyithen Jun 2019
...I sometimes think...
......the only reason we fear the dark...
.........is because deep down...
............we know...
...............how easy...
..................we could fall into it...
...And that idea scares us...
......because we have...
.........no idea...
............of the destruction...
...............we are capable of...
Maria Etre May 2019
I suddenly awoke from hypnosis
my eyes no longer dilate
at your sight
but my
mind expands when my thoughts
sneak out to dance with the idea of you
in the middle of the night on a white sheet
with ***** lead shoes writing the story of
what my heart wanted, my mind thought
and poetry yearned for
Jason Drury May 2019
Scribble,
Scribble.
The etchings,
of a dreamer.

Who's quill he,
quibbles with.

Grasping at an idea,
that he hydrates
with ink.

In wrathful vengeance,
he abuses parchment,
with a sharpened wood spear.

Drinking his creation,
tweaking the taste,
that's almost bitter.

Slash, ****,
cross out.
He is vexed,
about the ending…
Sylph May 2019
Teenage love
Is when
your just so in love
with
the idea
of being in love

And quote on quote
¨that feeling you think is love
is just a mixture
of Lust
And attraction when your a teenager¨
Tbh i dont want to believe its true even though a part of me knows it is in a way
I want to prove that statement wrong but what if its just fact?
We learn to love, correct? Through out life and none of us are positive what love is or how to explain it
So....Why cant you learn to love someone you like a lot but as a teenager? part of me knows the answer but maybe if someone else said it, i could believe or accept it might be true..,
Doubts **** everything... And i like what i have right now...so maybe i dont want to know the answer... maybe im happy being confused..maybe
c May 2019
I am enamored
With the idea
Of being in love

Not the kind of love
Where I say
I love you
And let you meet my family
Or maybe exactly that kind of love
A love like raindrops?
That, as fast as I run away from it
I cannot escape it

I want never ending night skies
But I’m obsessed with sunshine
Especially when it’s raining
Am I my own paradox of eternal delights?
If I am, I think I’m doing a good job of
Whatever this is, for once

I really really like holding on to the past
At this point, my wall is choking
On movie tickets and pictures
But I keep thumbtacks
By my bed anyway
Just in case I need to remember something new
That I didn’t forget in the short walk
From desk to window

It’s not being sentimental, I think
It’s being “sometimes I forget who I am so how do I know I won’t forget how happy feels or how my best friends laugh like sunshine?”

But let’s call it sentimental because
I have a real love-hate relationship with labels

I am the least organized person I know
But I’m constantly labeling people
It’s touch and go, this metaphorical game of tag
Friend, lover, enemy, acquaintance
These labels aren’t permanent
The fingerprints on my skin wash off like chalk in a rainstorm

And let me tell you
I am enamoured with rainstorms
Because when I don’t have an umbrella
They seem to feel a hell of a lot like love
c Apr 2019
I do not believe
In the idea of love
You are too far gone
Nimrod kiptoo Apr 2019
I want succeed so bad, I want to see myself saying if I make this millions this month, how much will I make next month.
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