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jonathan Dec 2024
years spent numbing the pain
ignoring it's sting
covering it up
downplaying the hurt it causes

it will only lead
to you feeling

an aching numbness of existence
in self inflicted solitude

stand up for yourself
if no one takes care of you,
then you gotta do it instead
Ian Dec 2024
Once Baghdad was conquered,
And al-Musta'sim was imprisoned,
Hulegu Khan, aware of the king's
Great wealth and treasure,
Approached his cell, and bade him eat
Of his sumptuous goods.
The king, most bewildered by this order,
at once looked unto the Khan
and said, with voice stern,
“I shall do no such thing!”. It was then
The Khan proceeded to ask,
“Then why do you horde these gilded coins,
And precious jewels, and stones
Of land afar that you use not
To better the defense of your empire,
Or the welfare of your people,
Or the health of your animals?”
The king was silent, and the Khan's ire thusly grew.
“They then must be to eat
If they are not to be used
To strengthen your realm.”
“Do you store food for later consumption?”
“If so, why store these riches if they are not food?”
The king’s silence had yet to cease,
For he knew not what to say.
The days passed and to inanition
The king succumbed, alone and abreast of his treasure.
I once loved a man
Who had two faces
Told me words of love and reassurance
Even showered me with praises

But his words never
Matched what he truly felt
Because it was only pain
Not love or care I was dealt

I once loved a man
Who never meant what he phrased
His actions burned me
Leaving me chared and scathed

Told me he’d be there
When I needed him the most
But when the moment finally came
I was left with a ghost

I once loved a man
Who couldn’t be what I craved
The cards he left me with
Were truly cruel and depraved

The lesson I learned
Was only I could save me
Not the man with two faces
Who called me his lady
Aaron Nov 2024
The clock ticks softly but fast
There's no mean to see our past
Moments fade like falling stars
Life whispers to move onwards
First try to write a short poem full of teaching,meanings and depth
Valentin Eni Nov 2024
(Literal Translation from Romanian)

This poem, actually,
it's not even a poem,
just some random text
that
will waste your time
and energy,
will try to hurt you
and rub salt in the wound,
it will mess with you a bit.
That's what happens when you don't read
what you're supposed to.
This text was born
to teach you a lesson:
next time
be more careful
with what you choose to read!

(Alternative translation I)

A Poem Not Meant to Be Read

This poem, in truth,
is no poem at all,
just a simple text,
meant to stall—
to steal your time,
your energy, too,
to wound your soul
and rub in the salt,
mocking you,
it’s your fault.

That’s what happens, don’t you see,
when you read what’s unworthy.

This text was born with a goal in mind:
to set you straight, to make you find
a better path, a wiser way—
be cautious in the books you stray!

(Alternative translation II)

not recommended for reading

this poem truthfully
isn't even poetry,
just some random text
that will steal your time
and drain your energy,
will try to wound you deep
and on that wound will heap
salt, in other words
it's making fun of you.
that's what you get, it's true,
when you don't read what's due.
this text was meant to be
a lesson, you will see:
next time
be more careful
with what you choose to read!

(Original poem)

poezie nerecomandată lecturii

această poezie, de fapt
nici nu e poezie,
ci doar un text oarecare
care
îţi va lua ceva timp
şi ceva energie,
va încerca să te rănească
şi pe rană să-ţi presoare
sare,
adică îsi va bate niţel joc de tine.
aşa-i, când nu citeşti
ceea ce se cuvine.
acestui text i-a fost dat să se nască
pentru a te pune la cale:
altădată
să fii mai precaut
în lecturile tale!
The poem playfully critiques the act of reading indiscriminately, mocking both itself and the reader for engaging with texts of questionable value. It examines the relationship between writer, text, and reader, exploring notions of expectation, disappointment, and self-reflection.

The tone is ironic, self-aware, and lightly admonishing. The poem is a "non-poem," undermining its significance while drawing readers into its trap. Its conversational style, fragmented structure, and casual rhythm reinforce the playful nature, making the critique feel lighthearted rather than harsh.

Mocking its lack of depth, the "poem" provokes the reader to reflect on their choices and consider the value of what they consume. At the same time, it critiques the culture of superficial engagement, urging a more thoughtful approach to literature.
Justination Oct 2024
In a quiet town where the rivers run deep
Underneath the willow where secrets do keep
Two hearts found each other, one summer's sweet bloom
There, in the shadows, love danced through the gloom

Her laughter like sunlight, his smile warm as June
They'd trace stars together by the soft light of the moon
Whispers like petals, the world spun away
Each stolen moment, a promise to stay

They'd carve their initials in old oak trees
And dream of forever as easy as breeze
In their cocoon of innocence, they painted the skies
With colors of hope and the bright shining lies

But seasons, they change; summer fades into fall
Leaves turn brittle and shadows grow tall
She felt a cold distance, a chill in his gaze
A heart once so open, now lost in a maze

He spoke with his silence, not knowing why
Words caught in the throat as time slipped by
The laughter grew fainter; the touch lost its spark
In the glow of their fire, his fingers grew dark

One faithful evening, beneath that old tree
With trembling hands, he set her heart free
"I wish you the stars but the ground holds me tight,
My heart wants to wander; I must take my flight."

Tears fell like raindrops, a storm without end
The girl stood there broken, no longer a friend
The echoes of laughter now drowned in the night
And shadows dance cruelly, stealing the light

In time she would heal as all heartaches will fade
Yet the memory lingered, etched deep in the shade
Her first love a compass through sorrow and grace
A bittersweet lesson, time couldn't erase

Years passed like whispers but she'd never forget
The love of her youth and the weight of regret
When spring finally beckoned with blossoms anew
She smiled at the past as the heart learns to bloom

For life is a river that twists and it turns
Through joy and through heartache, the spirit still learns
She carried him with her, a piece of her soul
First love and first heartbreak both made her whole
MetaVerse Sep 2024
Reinbert de Leeuw
Should've given Aldo Ciccolini a lesson or two
On how to play
Satie the right way.
Kirito Sep 2024
All the time we are always mess
just like other flowers that are colorless, but you know what we are still a human that always hoping for the best.
Lily Mani Sep 2024
If I could give it all, I did
I gave away a privileged life, one could dream to live
At the time, I didn't think I had much
My mistake and all my glory was crushed
My perspective was crooked
All were in awe of my life, yet I overlooked it
I thought of my life like a house of glass
Too fragile and meek, so over-class
Ironically, that was an understatement
My life, a house of gold to be completely blatant
Yet still I took my life with no value
The gold was my ashtray I spew
Now my life, a burnt down house, scarce of abundance
A daily reminder of my descendance
Into a void; hell
Hopeless on whether I'll live to have a story to tell
Of how life gave me something
And how quickly I gave life reason to make me nothing
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