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Sanwire Mar 21
When my chest feels heavy, my heart surrounded by sorrow.
I wish to feel nothing, I don’t want to see tomorrow.
I search for the answer, wondering when this will end.
The question itself wonders, I choose death to be my lonely friend.

Now I am at my decision,  I recall every feeling.
Guilt covers my vision,  regret loses its meaning.
I don’t think I can come back, I don’t even try.
Who sees what this head has, when I was left alone to cry.

When you arrive at my ending, I will remain silent that day.
When you wonder what I was hiding, why I chose this pathway.
The mystery covers your mind, so does the heaviness of maybes.
I wish you to keep me in your good sight, that’s the last wish you can grant me.

Now I am not breathing, but I feel so relieved.
The sorrow is at its ending, I am stepping into my land of dreams.
It offers me numbness, what I was eagerly wanting.
I am immune to emotions ; finally, the heaviness has ended.
Disclaimer might be sensitive topic⚠️
Northern Poet Mar 20
Under-paid, fed up
Over-worked, had enough
Lotto on, good luck
A northern haiku
Dom Mar 20
Have you ever known silence?
Where even the mind stops to listen,
No pollution by intrusions
Nay saying finger-wagging doubts,
Not one person waiting in line at the bullet train
That connects from passive to aggressive
Just the still staggering quiet.

Have you ever known peace?
Where should decompress,
No longer cosplaying atlas
Holding the weight of all that burdens
While taking the cleanest breaths
Deep and revitalizing oxygen satiating the blood,
While the face feels pain from finally-
Letting go of squinted vision, furled brows
And forced smiles.
Where it’s just the calm settling in nerves,
It’s almost too fantastical - surely a myth
But obtainable.

Have you ever known love?
Not the placated give and take,
Not the candy-covered lust under the covers
Not even the giddy resplendence when seeing that movie
Or hearing that tune, I’m talking love.
That heart-crushing,
Would go on a crusade to defend,
Sword-wielding and Fourth of July firework love-making
That daring to dare to dare to be better
That salve to cure wounds once thought fatal
Mortally immortalized in the space of a single kiss
Have you ever known that love?

All of life’s greatest gifts,
We overlook the material,
And it kills us all, it’s rather serial
We can’t spell it out in the cereal
But it’s there if you search beyond,
And break the mold.
Starynight Mar 20
Man sagt, Unterschiede ziehen sich an.
Man sagt, hell passt zu dunkel.

Man meint, ich mag dunkles Haar,
dunkles Haar mir am liebsten war.
Und das stimmt auch.
Und tut es weh,
dass dunkles Haar mir am liebsten war?

Die Welt machte dicht – doch du nicht.
Du öffnetest deine Arme für mich.
Angst
schlich mir ins Herz,
verdrängte meine Gedanken,
ließ mich nicht sehen, was war.
Doch das dunkle Haar mein liebstes war.

Veränderung – komisch.
Man sagte mir, es wäre besser so.
Dein Haar schon wieder dunkel,
mein Kopf verdrängend,
geblendet von einer neuen Sonne,
das Leben genießend in voller Wonne.
Doch das dunkle Haar mein liebstes war.

Veränderung wurde Alltag,
wurde normal, wurde Leben.
Dunkles Haar mein Alltag war.
Ich wollte und nicht
und wollte
und nicht.
Und noch immer
dunkles Haar mein liebstes war.

Die Welt stetig in Bewegung,
mein Kopf für immer drehend,
mein Herz nicht mehr an seinem Platz stehend.
Dunkles Haar war immer nah
und doch so fern.
In verschiedenen Farben und Texturen es war –
und doch,
dunkles Haar mein liebstes war.
~19/03/2025
Sarayu Mar 20
Dull to many, yet a gateway to my imagination.
Frustrating to some, yet a melody that soothes my soul.
Overlooked by most, yet a divine gift I embrace without hesitation.
Seen as wasted time, yet a rhythm that dances with my heart.

It pulls me into unseen worlds.
Paints stories upon my mind.
Whispers poetry to my soul.
Sings in harmony with my heart.
Lets moments drift like waves kissing the shore.

A cool breeze on a scorching noon.
A refuge in the midst of a storm.
A companion on the endless journey of life.

Waiting isn’t emptiness,it’s space for dreams to bloom.
Waiting isn’t an interruption,it’s an invitation.
Waiting isn’t a pause, it’s a rhythm that time composes.
Waiting isn’t a chore,it’s a dance of patience.
Nishu Mathur Mar 20
What of relationships that go sour
Let go I suppose
But what if I can’t?
What if I want to mend?
Not throw people away
Like a workman, keep at it
Like a tailor, **** torn clothes
Like a cobbler, sew and patch
Mix binding glue. Fix. Fix. Fix

My Kintsugi


So, I keep searching for what is good
The glass half full
Reasons to hold on
Justify
Belie
I collect
Broken pieces of myself
Shreds of hearts and memories
Of people and pain
Though things may never be the same again

Imperfections. Transience.
Life. Resilience
Whatever

May be one day
I’ll move on. Be stronger.

With life, I’ll flow
May be one day
I’ll learn the art of letting go
There's no promise of love,
I was lucky to find it.
Nothing says there will be someone there,
For you to hold or be held by,
When the storm rolls in.
A very few get to know,
Just how it feels,
To embrace your lover.
Carefully placing your hand on their face,
Love isn't promised,
Possibly it may never come,
So I am lucky to have it now.
It's rare for it to be true
Andy Denson Mar 20
genocide needs to end, you complacent fools…

bodies stack like forgotten prayers,
ash clings to the tongues of those who
dare not speak.
your silence—
a currency traded for comfort,
a choir of apathy humming along
to the drone of dying children.

how much blood must drown the sand
before you call it a flood?
how many broken spines,
how many mothers screaming into dust
before your heart cracks open
and spills something real?

you sip your lattes,
scroll past the headlines,
tut-tut at the mess of the world,
then click away—
like a god who does not answer,
like a witness who turned away
and called it survival.

but history is watching.
your name will be written
not in gold, but in shadow.
the ledger of your soul
tallied in the weight of the lives
you ignored.

wake up.
the dead are calling.
this isn’t just a poem—it’s a reckoning. silence is complicity, and history is watching. how many more lives must be lost before the world stops looking away? open your eyes, raise your voice, do something. the dead are calling. #freepalestine #endgenocide
Beginning: A story started from the day I reached my mothers womb,
Suffering and pain I will carry till my tomb.
Playful childhood naughtiness,
Which did bring my mother little happiness.
Same naughtiness cannot be carried to adulthood,
As will definitely bring tremors in her mood.
For all misbehavior, by her, there will be lot o abuse,
Trust me those are all love in disguise.

Childhood: I have filled her world with sorrow’s
My words would’ve pierced her heart as arrows.
I, a selfish boy with no guidance,
Filled with this worldly nuisance.
Lost my youth in various atrocities,
Roaming around with brats around cities.
Little did she know her child’s future,
Will always carry this societal fracture.

Adolescence: A romantic stage of play,
My heart got slayed.
In a world of feminism,
Where I wished to see womanism.
All their wit with sweet talk,
Will lead you to a broken heart, in life’s walk.
The one I truly loved, didn’t love me, in my teen,
The one that loved me, found its way in the wedding.

Adulthood: The saddest day when I lost my father,
Who was always correcting me, for my better future.
As he never wanted me to be another him,
Making me stronger was his only aim.
It give me chills to my bone of his pain and suffering,
Watching and standing like a stone, not knowing.
A bell ringing that it is my time to prepare and to shine,
To fight life’s battle, armor up for my life tasks, not to whine.

Corporate: Filled with competition, greed & betrayal are ways of life,
In this godforsaken world of strife.
Corporates with fake promises,
Forgetting all that they work, build and save, one day dies.
Corporate *******, snakes and vultures,
Spreading venom & feeding upon one's weakness’.
Countless professional deaths & murders,
By calling us team, family and as friends.

Lesson: In a cruel world, teach thy kids how to fight,
For survival and for their future to be bright.
Live life to the fullest, help needy but don’t expect,
Nothing from anyone, whole life will be perfect.
It is a lesson from her,
And she is the greatest in my life, my mother.
My parents blessings and love has become my lifeline,
Which I will never let go in vain…

Conclusion: Lucky are the ones whose mothers starve,
To ensure her portions, children can have.
My mothers prayers to all the gods with her weeping,
for protecting me from evil and to continue guarding.
Her cries and prayers was heard,
By the great gods she trusted for her ward.
The only person who suffers all,
It was her, whose pain was to see my survival.

By
Sanji-Paul Arvind
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