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Karijinbba Sep 1
You know you stopped me dead
while I was passing by
while you were inking gold
and glancing by;
reading poetry you like.

Oh my Lord I loved your style
and though I hadn't written
of this feelings all of my life,
I always thought in metaphorical
deep formating style.

One beastly soul
just loved my style becoming
a better patrkCham mind.
along with other Poets
thought of me
as different true and wild.

Two wolves pretended
to even like me in any form
As a rich goody two shoes
forelorned perceived was I
in my skin so wrongly viewed,

No sheep but Ram I am!
Some even called me weird
in dance and song so feared
I guess they saw
their own greedy eye revered.

So as my story in poem flowed
like a river rushing to the sea,
some poets joined my plea
to the sea I longed to join.

And as my river ran along
diverted its rushing went wrong
my river the sea never joined.

What's a river flowing!
what's a metaphor in poem!,
Copy Rights 09-2020 revised.
Some poetry makes it to it's destination
read by the intended target
this kind reaches to the sea joining in.
kim Jan 14
The night was young as you danced along
Color on color, drink on drink
skin on skin

The club’s crowded room faded,
all my eyes saw were yours,
brown and alluring

I took a shot of liquid courage and sped my way


Everyone gathered in my room as you stayed in yours
Garment on garment, brush on brush
ring on ring

The people on the pews faded,
all my eyes saw were yours,
brown and teary

I gulped my shot of liquid courage and strolled my way


The room as empty as you laid down
Tissue on tissue, tear on tear
flower on flower

Nothing faded but still,
all my eyes saw were yours,
brown and closed

I took my last shot of liquid courage and walked my way
Quinn Adaire Sep 2019
It’s blue sparkle
Strikes my eye
Glowing over the marble rock
Of the Universe
It’s so beautiful
It makes me cry
The light reflects
Off the surface of Time
Not wet
But still liquid
Liquid Time
I like the thought of that
Liquid Time
A waterfall
I want to stand under
The stream of Time and the Universe.
New collection called Time and the Universe.
Luna Maria Sep 2019
I want to pour
the overwhelming amount of
out of my heart
as a
sticky, pure red liquid
and use it as an ink
to write a love poem
as an attempt to
describe what I feel
for you.
you are making me feel things I've never felt before.
Quinn Adaire Jul 2019
Rhymes are liquid,
That I know.
They are as liquid
As melted snow.

Rhymes are liquid
They can flow
And take the shape
Of what you shape it so
Rhymes are most definitely liquid.

Rhymes can leak
Out of your mouth.
Just like water
Both liquid, no doubt.

Just like room temp. mercury
Is rhyme’s liquidity.

Rhymes not contained
Can be a mess.
Just like how
Spilled milk
Is not the best.

This poem here
Is evidence
That rhymes being liquid
Makes so much sense.
Natasha Byrd May 2019
They ask me why my tears don't fall.

They wonder why amongst sadness my face is dry.

Who are they to assume my tears fall in the form of clear liquid.

They pour like hot magma that burns boils onto my skin.

A reminder of my ignorance.

“You walked into it.”

“You asked for it.”

The lines of damaged skin that cascade down my cheeks are a reminder.

They got to you.

They broke you.

A broken machine, that's what I've become.

One that needs fixing.

Born with a pair of eyes that leak my sanity.

With every drop falls a piece of my strength.

Pouring and pouring out. More and more by each passing second.

Making me ceasingly more vulnerable.

There's a crack somewhere.

Somewhere within me that I can't reach.

The me I once was seeps out of it.

I become less and less of the me from yesterday.

The me from a second ago, a moment ago.

I walk around leaving drops of myself behind.

I wonder what happens when I run on empty.

Would I disappear into the world that threw me into despair?

Would the evil that was thirsty for my purity come and lap up what's left?

I bind the cells together with the cold.

My heart can't melt and pour out if it's frozen stiff.

The fire of relationships and attractions temp the block of ice to convert to a flow of emotions,but my fears drop my state back to solid.

Oh liquid, how you flow within me.

I question where your loyalty lies

Is it with my head or my heart?

You betray my head when you flow out of my eyes, and betray my heart when you freeze it over.

Bitter sweet liquid can you answer this question,

Why, even though you flow within me, do I feel so hollow and dry inside?
Nikos Kyriazis Feb 2019
My monastery is nothing
but crimson dusk
poured inside the veins
of this grove

Love to drink the liquid
from the evening's injection

My body's organs to be dried
with purple blood
Bitter anger and confusion
like vinegar
won't stop love from flowing.
They are both liquid
coursing together
through the great channels
carved by passion.
When dammed,
these too overflow.
I must, somehow, create culverts
and new places to go.
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