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Jeffery Prosser Feb 2019
And so I drank her.
A high ball glass of seduction
Shaken with whiskey lips
Wide hips
Sugar rim
Sin and forgiveness.
I drank her blind
And ordered another.
A twist,
A burn,
Drown, you say?

Shall I spray these letters on the page for you to read?
May I display the writhing writes that within I keep?

I slash the pen against the inside of my skull,
To write my stories...

We call this,
a poem.

but does that make me,
the poet?
A response to "I LOVE YOU" by Ramana Tandra
underestimated Nov 2018
I'm mad at you
You smile
I love you
I want to yell at you
You smile
I forgot what I wanted to say
I need a break
You smile
I need you
I need to run away
You smile
I'm running to you now
Your smile always makes me forget about the reasons that I'm ****** at you
What are you doing to me...?
Ammar Abraham Nov 2018
Part of me dies when
Part of you escapes me
It's you my love who
Breaks and makes me
I've given you this power
Can't pull it back
I'm touched by insanity
My own soul hates me.
Julian Delia Oct 2018
Starving, bones poking out;
Unraveling, loans choking you out.
Carving a niche, trying to survive,
Struggling to find a meaning to being alive.

You lie in bed,
Thinking about the tears you’ve shed,
The sweat, the blood you’ve bled –
The tough times scraping by,
The close calls you’ve had.

Hunger, a nauseating pain;
What would you give up for a single grain?
You strain your brain,
Rack it trying to find a way –
Trying to find a way out of this life,
A life that is dull and grey.

Your soul does not see the light of day;
Your faith starts to shake,
You manage no more than a mumble,
Your beliefs start to crumble.
Concerned, disturbed,
Angry at the world, constantly hurt;
Cornered, perturbed,
Life is but a whirl, with death we flirt.

Cursed, deserted,
We thirst for that which we will not quench;
Dispersed, disconcerted,
The sewers of poverty air their stench.
You pull the covers up to your nose,
You shudder like a victim from an attacker’s blows.
I will devour your soul if it means I sleep with a full stomach tonight,
The thief

Our princess got sick

She felt bad and ill

Her rosy cheeks were fainted

Her red lips were faded

Her body got to be delicate

Her eyes had no tears

She asked her father

Not to marry her

But her father had insisted

She saw her future black

She couldn't sleep or even talk

The physicians got lack

"How could they cure her back?"

The king was very happy

To get from his lover happy

He  forgot everything except the happy

My princess looked as the trees in winter

As the leaves became dear

She said" I am so poor

As the trees have no green

I am ready for my sunset

That might get down in the west

Dear ma forgive me for my false

Or any word I said"

I cried and knelled on her

I said "forgive you! What  a matter!

You are my sunrise appears with welfare

You have kind heart and mind

You have an angel spirit

If all human like you

The welfare will grow

When  I saw you I like all

When I saw you I learn the word

The mean kind ,love and good

You will live till you burned

Me but you mustn't forget

Me at your sleep or at awakens

To the God to give me forgiveness"

********

After some days  I smiled

I told her to go to the groom

Telling him she can't marry him

Their life will not be well

So he must look for another one

Can be his only lover

She went at a moment

She heard a strange talk
angel, grow, spirit, mind, welfare, matter, ma, forgive
Survived Sep 2018
And the way she looks at me
makes me feel like
the happiest person alive
in the universe.
Julian Delia Aug 2018
My heart
Feels like a frostbitten cave nobody should ever go in.
My soul
Feels exhausted, drained and spread really thin.
My mind
Feels like its fighting battles it can never win.

I find my thoughts
Consumed with anger and despair,
Evil feelings who have created a lair –
A base of operations within my mind,
Staring at the world with a terrifying glare.

And yet, despite all this,
Nothing kills me more than being alone.
This need to experience humanity
Is not simply an act of vanity,
Or a call for attention,
But an attempt at reclaiming sanity.

We are the loneliest generation of all time;
Previous overlords used force to rule,
And whoever didn’t follow was lambasted,
Marked as a traitor and a base fool.
Now, force is merely a tool,
One in many of a lethal arsenal.

Social hierarchies are fake, sometimes downright farcical –
Now, we are divided and conquered.
Our communities have collided,
Our love for each other is drained and flustered.
We are armed with shields of prejudice,
Careening towards a perilous precipice
Of watching out only for ourselves,
With no room in our hearts for anyone else.

I just wish I could let go –
I wish I was an atom of boiling water,
About to break free and become steam,
I wish to taste of true freedom,
To at least get one, tiny gleam.
Yet,
I find myself weary, tired and trapped,
A torturous routine so well-travelled
That, at this point, I could say my brain has it mapped.

I close my eyes
And see visions of you I wish I could forget.
I wish I’d looked before I leapt,
Rather than live with this pain and regret.
I close my eyes, and see
Years of seeking somewhere I belong,
Brothers and sisters with whom I can stand strong.
Yet,
All I seem to find
Is people struggling with their daily grind,
Souls that are just as tired as mine, if not more.

And so, I find myself
Dealing with this constant craving,
Ranting and raving,
Hoping that this frosty cave is still open to reclaiming,
Hoping that my soul is still worth saving,
And that my mind still finds this battlefield worth braving.
This feels like the breaking point.
Jenna Aug 2018
the  time  of  day  that  makes  the  sky  shine  gold
the  feeling  of  distrusting  your  own  eyes
and  appraising  your  surroundings  threefold
observing,  absorbing  the  slothful  sun  rise

in  these  moments  serenity  i  find
in  these  moments  myself  i  do  most  feel
both  the  breeze  and  fresh  air  align  my  spine
paradise,  heaven,  feels  nearly  unreal

what  can  i  do,  what  can  i  say  to  stay?
way  back  to  reality,  so it  seems
opposite  of  this  day,  my  day - to - day
but  here,  near  mother  nature  i’ll  daydream

surrounded  by  animals,  flowers,  trees
the  outside:  my  favorite  place  to  be
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