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Knit Personality Aug 2015
I wish to be that rarest kind of artist:
The greatest artist of my ilk and age.
I wish to be that one who flies the farthest
The paper airplane made of ink and page.
I do not wish to be this flying ace
For medals or for glory or for fame:
I wish to tell the eons of your grace,
And loop the sky forever with your name.
But I'm no clever paper engineer,
And flawed design will keep my plane aground.
No matter how it's thrown the crash-site's near
Because its whole construction is unsound.
My plane won't fly because it has no wings,
And good intent alone can't fly the lightest things.
Brandon Conway Sep 2018
My god, your beauty is bright
I can see the halo radiating
though the clouds at night
my heart hastily pulsating

whenever we're in the same room
my eyes only gravitate towards you
I recognize that lovely ambrosial perfume
when you glance, my cheeks take a different hue

I have immortalized you through my poems
but I rather spend this mortal life
basking in your lissome arms
a drop of you cures all my strife

I want you in the flesh instead of dreams
but any thought of you is okay by me
look how the moon thinly beams
highlighting my idiosyncrasy

You move my pen, dear
and you don't even know it
to you I owe this writing career
and I am scared that I might blow it
Lunar Jan 2018
Do you think
I am immortalizing you too much?
Do you want to rest in peace?
My hands want to rest as well
But the heart never stops.
To me, the one grieving,
Nothing can ever replace you.
Not another person,
nor your favorite song.
Not a picture nor a place.
Not your sweater
nor your favorite weather.
Neither your favorite book with
the highlights of your favorite quotes,
nor the words
I speak of you.
Not even more time,
nor the memory of you.
Isn't writing about someone, unconsciously immortalizing them? We may not be as influential as the greatest classical writers but our words are just as powerful enough for those around us.

This poem is in memory of wjh, who's very much alive.

(j.m.)
Crimsyy Nov 2016
I watch how much ink
it is taking
to immortalize every inch of you,
I see my pens are wasting,
but I purge the contents of
my heart out for you.

Love is morphine for
the hole in our hearts,
do you notice how
light love feels when you
ignore the dark?
Love is morphine for
all our broken parts;

Capsize me, and
somehow,  I'll be
*less dizzy.

— The End —