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Kassan Jahmal Aug 2022
Hotel ***—of neighbours dealing in services, buying into
the idea of momentary love by the high purchases. It's like
swerving in traffic, avoiding real love and looking for some action.
Well out here relaxing, feels **** fun. Sort of tragic, but these are the ways things happen. Imagines.

On the other side, the creep behind the hole in the wall.
The married husband, setting up a *******. She's a young girl,
and a ****** to all—of what it costs to make it big. He's not so big, but will drive into her like a heavy rig. Pay her off, call a cab to
take her back home. Rinse himself, spray a little cologne to cover
up his immorals. And switch his clothes. What she doesn't know, won't hurt his wife at all. Sort of tragic, but these are the ways things happen. Imagines.

But she's in another room downstairs, getting tongue licks
downstairs—downtown. The young man isn't to proud, at least
with the fact he wasn't the first one pointing her down his south.
The fresh taste of adultery in their mouth—his pants are
half down. His business is hanging out; ready to close the deal of
an interesting affair. Then he'll kiss his girlfriend back at their house.
I know she's cheating on me too. Sort of tragic, but these are the ways things happen. Imagines.

The cheating girlfriend is actually over eating in another room
alone. With shoes off, to stand herself and her weight.
Running to the bathroom with a finger down her throat.
A little choke, and upbringing those distasteful words. Her body
isn't her worth, and doesn't feel like the one she deserves.
Sort of tragic, but these are the ways things happen. Imagines.

These are the dark rooms, of all the stories in my head.
A couple stories high, to keep me up on my bed. They turn into
dreams, or have been premonitions for a later reality as it seems.

                                                         ­            Who really knows?
Raven Feels Jul 2021
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, the world turning inside out---no such thing as salted mint:)


like a wild hint

taste a glimpse of salted mint

tackle the caramel passions

cinnamon enchantment of imagines

no bit of lost roses

happiness in measured red doses

remain in the lavender's fair violet

to hesitate the sour act of deficit

to refuse the golden boil of the sun

bring a stop to the good from miscalculating the sum


                                                           ­                       -----ravenfeels
The Love I have has no other name
It belongs to you
The loss imagined imagines me
It belongs to you
Denisse May 2014
I'll ride in a unicorn if I had a chance
Go visit the hidden garden and take a glance
I'll go drop and make a dance in the moon
Through the magic carpet and massive balloon.

I'll watch the star from falling
Tie a hanky and keep myself wishing
I'll fly with the help of the birds
Make a big conversation with the clouds.

I'll submerge in the sea to play with Ariel
Dance under water and collect shell
I'll travel to visit Alice in the Wonderland
Not minding the dirt in the sand.

I'll ride on the plane and go to Paris
Tour myself in the city of poetry
I'll go to Eiffel Tower to have my dream come true
I don't care if I will go alone, atleast I have my happiness upto my bone.

Paris will be an amazing trip, but it isn't enough
I want to go visit the Queen
In the place where my favorite boyband has been
The place called London, the land I wish I was on.

It's always an amazing thing to imagine
And there is no other place for this, only in this piece.
When you write poem, you can go where you want, you can do whatever you want, you can act without limits. That's an awesome thing in a poem. YOU CAN DO WHATEVER YOU WANT.

— The End —