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The kind that picks you up and drops you off in a different state of mind

The kind that leaves you lost in the right direction
it has unexpectedly taken

A kiss so purposeful and sound
Even the force of the wind nor the stares of passersby can break it

The kind of kiss the brain is stubborn to erase
because with every eighth minute
the present veers off its natural course
to travel back to that enchanting space

Back to him and me
planted in front of The Liberty Tree
Back to the heated discussion between lips
and to everything felt and poured out in our kiss

To hello and goodbye

To stoked intensity

And to the eloquent expression of elusive chemistry

2016 ©
Inspired by a first and last date.
Nightingale74 May 2016
Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness--
Rights promised to us by men too old to remember.
Happiness is hard to Pursue,
Hard to find.
And sometimes the search leads you
Down paths that steal your Liberty...
Leaving you to wonder,
What's the point in Life?
Ambika Jois May 2016
I’ve walked on fire and thorns
Forgotten what the ground feels like
Every step I took were upon my wounded soles
How does a caged bird know to fly?

I rattled my gates every day
They were strong, metallic and I wasn’t strong
Every lift off was in vain,
How foolish was I to think, to the sky I belonged?

I, like a mother for her child, wanted more
To see within my veins, my being flourish at the mere tune
Every note was becoming a part of a song
How quick was I to dream of this music as a boon?

I feel that rumble inside me
My hunger, anger and desire upon my own pyre
Every day I wish for that first day again
How can I ingrain my liberty from this quagmire?
Ever felt so guilty about having done something you shouldn’t have done? How do we overcome such guilt? How do we forgive ourselves? Every crack of dawn and every approaching dusk, we fear being reminded of our wrong doings. All we want to do is forget that it ever happened. Sometimes, we live every single day with a constant reminder of such things and feel so lost yet liberated that the truth is out in the open. We feel so caged yet freed from the burden of bearing a hidden confession. We feel so ashamed yet lucky to be given another chance to once again become that person we know we want to be. We feel so neglected, undeserving of trust and at the lowest point of self-esteem yet we feel the power of our prayers would give us another life to live it like we could never again commit such a sin.

This poem emblazons the message underlying in our struggles to surmount our better selves from who we used to be. We know we will conquer our hardships and can see ourselves on the greener side of our own emotional quotient but let’s not forget how many doubts, fears, questions, rejections, isolation and punishments it takes for us to climb in order to stand right at the top. That top spot is very much ours, we very much deserve it, and we have every single step from the quagmire to the sky to credit for our liberation.
Drop the sword you wished to ******,
pick up the pen and let the words come out.
Let them leap and dance as much as you can,
even when spears press hard against your heart.
“Who are you?” They ask in disbelief.
“Why, of course.” You rise to your feet. “Je suis Charlie.”
I wrote this the day after the Charlie Hebdo attack. Violence should always be condemned.
Raquel Mouro Mar 2016
The artist doesn't have to be socially accepted, a good dealer, a good speaker or a good citizen.
It  as to be art itself.
It's own creation.
I greatly enjoy being single.
I dare you to change my mind with your actions and character
It's a declaration with a small signature
Except i'm not rebelling from a king
I'm letting you know it's me
Shake my world up, babe.
Miskin Feb 2016
Freedom is nonexistent
Liberty is a lie
Independence is fiction
Emancipation is a death
There's nothing to do!
X
I met X when we had ***,
I met X when I get flex,
I met X when she like it on pharynx,
I met X when she knows how to vortex,
I met X when everything was fixed.

And that's how I met my Complex X
when all X comes from annex X.
Cody Haag Feb 2016
The fighting is not over,
The silent, pleas of terror are rampant;
Confrontation is not over,
For the cries of the innocent cease to be absent,

No, the struggle is not over,
For little children starve each day.
The struggle has not ceased,
When people die for being gay.

The struggle is not OVER,
There is much change to come!
What do you not understand?!
Let us no longer be numb!

Do not give up on improvement,
Do not think change is done;
We've just begun this
Long and strenuous run.
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