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I desire
To write something good
I want
To write words of hope
But I think
To write such beautiful words
You need
To have something beautiful inside you
I’m afraid
That that’s simple not my case
So it’s just
These weird lines I write
That have
No real meaning or merit
And no one
Understands what they all really mean
Neither do I though
Just a poem
hazem al jaber May 2018
Just with love ...

just one thing ...  
that could make your soul ...
as an angel's soul ...
make it perfect ...
pure as a sweet river  ...
make your heart beats ...
with all happiness ...
with no any sadness ...
is just ...
and only just ...
love ...
with love sweetheart ...
we can get a happiness ...
and the life that we both need ...
only love ...
let's love more ...
to live a happiness ...
with a long age ...
within this sweet life ....

just with love ...
we share ...
we can complete souls ...
to get what we desire for ...

love you ...
my sweet soul ...
whom you are ...
the happiness to my life all ...


hazem al ..
A quagmire
that Cohen
was an
exempt constitution
and amend
law where
string excess
and total
chaos like
her love
town she
inhibit them
in harm
that enforce
statute when
wax moon
bare ******
a superlative law in just time
the bittersweet silent story of my life age
fifty and nine automatically rebroadcast
     in indelible (yet never washed out) beige
indistinguishably linkedin, when counting
     the last three of seventy somber orbitz,
     signify torturous custom made cage

whose darkening shades of gray
housed a weakened Harriet Harris,
     an ashen corpse lay
no doubt a grown changeling dust play

a cruel trick, and soul of me mum didst slay,
so...tis with great difficulty aye write this poem today
cathartic to brush off self denunciation,
     an albatross that dust way

heavily incriminating, ostracizing this mind of mine,
recurring every year comb May fourth a line
codifying, delineating, earmarking,  
     and doth likened
     to elementary school Boyer

     as in  Henry Kline
no less painful reflection plus unavoidable,
     hence this middle aged man lets feelings incline
toward self expression this anniversary
     revisiting re: deign

upon memorializing general up beat
defiance at death of thine late mother,
     where disease rabidly did eat
ting her til she expired,
     this singular married heir
     set himself a writing fete

wordlessly mouths never expressed greet
unbeknownst reeders gleaning my sentiments heat
ting recollected adieu bid prior,
     whence she angrily wanted to meet
that accursed nemesis
     against healthiness and repeat
  
cherished apothegm,
     that existence offers no second act
as she relinquished slipping tenuous weak bract
leave ving ever fainter grip upon cracked
pommel of mortality, an immutable fact
thence black knight denounced, pounced, hijacked
trounced unannounced, vanquished, lacked

motive to rival nixed, extinguished sputtering pact
fast fading joie de vivre unspoken,
     where death rattle racked
personal def tone accentuation tracked
subsequent self castigation,
     excoriation nearly whacked

me to Timbuktu rebuking extolling bless
sing experienced from
     this sole son for thirteen years, aye confess
when the inimitable Harriet Harris

     devastatingly, grievously, inconsolably,
     got hexed, issued jilted livingsocial, a less
son learned to late, how maddeningly mess
say yon nick lee infuriated, not accepting press

sing ill fate, nor countenancing fatal injustice,
refusing to curtsy fiendish inxs did ****
her off (poisoned scorpion sting) remiss
cheekily peppering psyche as if Swiss

cheese, a once spunky Arthur Murray shored
dance instructor, who scored
door prize in the guise of thee less torte sured
near nonagenarian papa, where meanness poured

from grim mortal outlook parlayed moored
deadly reaper, quashed, ruined as lord
stole, sacred maternal tribal nurse, unfairly did hoard
final precious seconds unexpectedly meant un explored
positive rapport forever undergirded "door"

closed to resolve ambivalence with venerable bead
did association between
     kith and kin, unfairly
     dead poet society lettered deed
wrested a vibrant life despite zest that freed
a vibrant gal to coast along dialed up esprit

     de corps spirit to live, yet greed
of metastatic cancer upended lead,
where mind over matter, sans power
     in positive thinking rubric and plead
ding didst **** last ditch homeopathic screed

ambitions *******, thus giving up the ghost
wracking sadness, sinking sorrow spilling most
lee tears of loss, among family, fellow Unitarians
of the Thomas Paine Fellowship
     included with your obituary post.
phoebe fructuoso Apr 2018
I don't know much about you
all I know is that I sure would love to

Boy for some reason, you're stuck in my brain
and it's so hard but I'm trying to refrain
because you have another girl
who probably feels the same
I thought you were different.
Colm Apr 2018
Closet
Mirror
Candlestick
Creek in the floor
River in her eyes
Fear most definitely is this
End
Bee Apr 2018
Love, a four-lettered word,
All of us have already heard.
Funny feeling deep in my stomach,
Makes me look like a big, old maniac.

Silly endearments makes me want to throw up,
Old couples sharing one drinking cup.
Ewww, what in the world?
Is this crazy little thing that's been always heard?

Until one day,
A light has peeked through the skies so gray.
Who knew a girl that so vain and mean,
Could become my sweet, lovely queen.

I won't be needing those fake smiles,
And that feeling of throwing up some bile.
I know what love is,
And the proof? It's sealed with a kiss.
Hi! This is my very 1st poem that I've shared to many and published at hellopoetry. Please don't hate at it, and excuse me for some  wrong grammar cause English is not my native language.
Selena WH Jul 2018
You are beautiful.

It doesn't matter if you are fat or thin,
You're still beautiful.

It doesn't matter if you are tall or short,
You're still beautiful.

It doesn't matter if you are dark or light,
You're still beautiful.

It doesn't matter if you have scars or birthmarks,
You're still beautiful.

It doesn't matter if you are an introvert or extrovert,
You're still beautiful.

It doesn't matter if you are gay, lesbian, bisexual or trans,
You're still beautiful.

It doesn't matter if you suffer from
Mental disorders,
You're still beautiful.

It doesn't matter if you wear glasses or not,
You're still beautiful.

It doesn't matter if you are rich or poor,
You're still beautiful.

You may have flaws,
But that's what makes you whole.

And to me,
You'll always be beautiful.
Every single one of you is freaking precious, and you're each beautiful in your own individual way. I don't care what you say, you will be forever beautiful to me.
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