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Oliver Lenz Aug 14
I will not write of daffodils,
Nor will I praise the rose.
Don't get me wrong - I see their beauty.
I just don't connect to their charm.

Sweet and tender they shine,
Picked, sold, gifted as a treat.
Beauty to look at, easy to get.
I do not want what I haven't got.

Instead, I'll write of sunshine,
Of untamable feral perfection,
Of things that bite
Should you try to claim them.

I'll write of striking composition,
Wilting within our gardened trip,
Yet blooming when undisturbed and wild,
Sharp-edged and stubbornly bright.

I'll write of what my soul needs most,
I'll write of gorse.
MuseumofMax Aug 13
I am an imperfect shape; abstract
Soul Jun 26
Rough; Charged;
Tall as Mount Everest;
Boiling blood in
waves of rage;—
You blow them
all, by a gentle
breeze;—
Back on to
your cozy lap.
Is that all
because you
want to build
a nest;—
Not perfect
but, but a
better one
of phoenix
feathers?
At first sight, you may not get the hidden deeper meaning which I tried to interpret. It may sound incomplete, but it is not...
From this poem, Ode to the seas, it conveys the Bond of a Family & how it differs. I guess, even you have some kind of problem happening in your family. Just think for a second about this I say, during your whole time, haven't a single problem arose in your family? Have you ever thought about why its so? Why its not perfect?...
In my opinion, as I try to convey in my poem, perfect families mean that they have no such thing called family bonds...
alex May 22
they say don’t judge a book by its cover
but sometimes
you start reading
and the words just
won’t resonate with you
they won't
make you think
or feel

but remember
you don’t have to
force yourself
to finish
a bad book
I find myself so puzzled, in a web of my own emotions; pieces of
your skin pierces at my tears. Until those tears dry over, I remain
unchanged, still the same man – clutching at those pieces of you in
my hand. The haunting whispers of your voice blowing in my mind;
though I'm not a fan. But love can't be so coincidental, it has its cons
of density; a weighty significance— no matter, you still matter to me!
Still, when you spoke of making this love last, I pray you didn't say
it with lust.

And to fall in love is to tread softly; so let me down easy for the sake
of this soft heart. Even if I possessed the key to your heart, I would
still ask for your permission to let me in — to accept me as I am;
knowing we both sin. As your very breath, is inherited in a kiss
underneath my lungs; killing me slowly, a slow demise orchestrated
by the symphony of your love. Being the piece of oxygen trapped in
your glove —would you hold onto the memory of us, just for a little
long?

Circling my devotion around your name like a wedding ring; ruling
over my thoughts, my mind has crowned you Queen. And on this
battlefield of love; I'm fighting just to prove my love – processing
my words like processed foods; desperately hoping to nourish your
soul with every word.

It seems as though I've known you before; where in these past lives
we had lived — it feels like I've grown out of my old ways; and it
feels like you were that very seed. And if I'm to settle down, I need to
settle my old regrets. And if I'm to write out all of my wrongs, give
me some time to repent. And perhaps we'll be perfect lovers, if we
learn to love each other like friends. Yet, despite our efforts to be so
perfect for each other; we'll still remain imperfect in the end.

                                                           ­                       Beautifully flawed.
Jose H Apr 4
In love we grow
In love we change
Do not turn away
Accept flaws and all
For together we heal
Together we grow
Together we change
To be loved we must know
We are imperfect beings
Yet while imperfect we stay
we love we grow we change
Lillian Feb 3
Her heart is clean
It's white
Like rabbit
It's clear
From bad habits
She is the Lily
Of this filthy Valley.

If her heart
Dared to get a bit
Of filth anyway
She would be shammed
She might as well wither away
The world is no place
For a perfect white lily
Why should we judge
All humans are silly
Even the purest girl out there
Can make mistakes.
Purity culture is unfair to women. It throws us into a perfect picture and a set of social expectations making girls around the world feel unworthy of love.
Lizzie Bevis Oct 2024
Gazing into the mirror,
blotchy eyed, unkempt and exhausted
as dull light casts shadows,
framing my weary face,
as I search for any strength
left in this aged reflection
by recalling fearless days.

Adrift, all conviction is lost
yet, in my mind I still tread water,
as despair’s chill takes hold
and I drown in torments deep depths,
each breath a heavyweight
as I slowly sink under.

My heart remains guarded,
I count each fragile vulnerable beat
and I deeply pray for solace as frailty continuously snuffs out my spark.
The anxiety grips steadfastly to reality
and my self-esteem dissipates
under this malady.

I cower from this fear,  
not wishing to fade into stillness here,  
while the world outside looms
like an impossible mountain to climb.  
Why must my existence feel so awry,  
reduced to nothing but a broken soul?
Because, this is not me…
This is not me at all.

©️Lizzie Bevis
Emery Feine Sep 2024
Sometimes, with a roll of the dice
A child receives a blessing that comes with a price
They can be born with the blessing of being smart
Yet in society, they'll always be apart
Who would've known that a bigger or stronger brain
Can make people think you're entirely insane
If you do one thing well in your prime
Then you'll be stuck doing that till the end of time
And if you ever try to quit
Why would you? You're good at it
There's so much pressure on you
That there's nothing you can look forward to
And if you get just one thing incorrect
There's something in your brain that needs to be checked
People will look up to you, but you're up there alone
Sitting down on your worthless diamond throne
And if you aren't better than only some
You're immediately characterized as dumb
Would you really want to feel so apart
Just so you could be a bit more smart?
this is my 77th poem, written on 1/23/24
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