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Ashlyn Yoshida Jun 2020
I can barely lift my head
I haven't eaten a thing today
I was waiting for you to message me
It never happened.
I have permanent consequences from being friends with those people. I had no where else to go...
Dante Rocío Jun 2020
I live in some way on the edge of the world of the senses. I prolong my life with books, minute thrillances in the honourable existing through consciousness, Poetry, and I live from feelings, reflections. I barely spend time with my peers, I go to the city only when it is necessary, I don't know how to use Snapchat, Tik Tok, I don't listen to pop music, and since I don't have Facebook, you may not even consider me real. I don't engage in news, top trends or political issues. To put it in a nut shell, I am quite secluded from the global civilization.

However, something grave has recently been ignited and only two days ago did I realize what kind of slander is really happening in the country I currently am. Repressions against those who love/act differently. For what we feel, who we are with, that one wears pink or rainbow, that they are not what tradition or the wont of others expect. I saw the proud "LGBT FREE ZONE" boards on the photos. Joyful cleaning of the streets after pride marches, as if the plague of Albert Camus had passed there. Seeing non-heterosexual people as ****, like pariahs in India. That a student of one of my teachers cannot even give a new person their email due to fear. And a large part of Poland is even fine with it. To put it short, in humanitarian terms, we went back to the Victorian era or the Spanish conquests in a sense.

I do not know anything about politics. Sometimes I do not even remember who is the Prime Minister of Poland. And for many who are reading it now and don't know me, I can be nobody. But I know that I am in a way a pilgrim here and a heraldry of freedom for the world, now or later. And I have to do, give something from myself, because although words sometimes fail to express so much, at times, like dreams, they are the only thing we have left. So I write, I do what I can. Because someone has to say something more specifically.

In 2015, Chris Pueyo, a Spanish student from Madrid, published his poetic novel "El Chico de las Estrellas" ("The Star Boy") where he wrote his autobiography through his eyes and those of the third person. Without shame, he described his loves, ups and downs, the harassment from the hands  of the world surrounding him, and all the tears and his own blades of guilt and glory he had experienced and born, mainly because of his homosexual orientation, also to support others like him. So far no one has translated it into any other language and it is stuck in Spain and the countries of the South America. But I will change that. I've decided to be the first to do it. Although I'm not after any studies nor am I more than 18 years old. But I do it wonderfully, I have determination and love for the language as a person. And I have a goal. At first I thought it was because of my admiration for Chris's work and my desire to simply show it, but now I know that's not the point.

I'm doing this for You. Because in this country we lack books that free love from definitions, frames, books that discourse about our bodies or passion with their due admiration, truth and purity. So know that from now on I dedicate my work to You. To those to whom are clipped wings, words and hopes, to those who hide and want to love madly and without boundaries. To the colourful girls from my class who are not afraid to be all the shades of the rainbow with piercing and who supported me in difficult moments. To the aforementioned student of my singing teacher. I'm almost halfway through the book, I'm still waiting for an answer from the next publishers. I won't rest till I publish it for You and other personalities, even if, like J.K. Rowling, I have to go to 12 of them, because maybe those people are afraid of publishing it.

Less than a year ago I didn't know anything about LGBTQ+, I still haven't experienced any romantic perturbations in my life or ever fallen in love with any human. But thanks to the work of writers like Benjamin Alire Sáenz, Becky Albertalli, Chris Pueyo, many fanfics, articles or my own questions, I have seen how beautifully infinite, complex and simple love is, that there is nothing in it against the nature. I study God in the world, the Bible or the Koran, and I’m telling tell you that even there, in the depth of the verses, there is no absurd condemnation! I have gone through the issues of  defamed *** or nakedness into taboo and I’m saying to you: it is not unclean, forbidden, it is simply a corporeal act of devotion, our naked body is pride, not shame! Gender equality is not only the equality of man and woman, but of every person with the rest of the society. I have never experienced any serious harassment, pressure in the matter of my objects of affection, I admit it, but I do know what it's like when society wants to nail you to your biological age, body, gender, name and other ephemeral content on your ID card. Literally existential ****, in blood-stained handcuffs.

The main part of my being is The Poet. To be more precise, a "non-writing” one - poems are only a necessary medium to save my Poetry from the time, and the real one are my gestures, the doe eyes that the sky is clad in, thoughts, breath and feelings. So my task here is not forming rhymes and things into empty beauty yet bearing myself again and again in intimacy and metaphors more literal than the prose, between the verses. It is not a job, yet, for me, the most honourable identity. The path to my Home in the tears, grass, the Sacrality of Life, Myself. For this is My Love, Lover. I’m not joking. This is why I know such love and devotion though I’ve never been with any human in an intimate relationship. This doesn’t have ***, borders. Ergo I’ve never gave myself any name of my orientation, I don’t know what it would be and I don’t need to name it. I’m also a revolutionist at heart, I adore the vocal expression of the rebellion, therefore this is why I’m here. And I hope that I will be given the honour of being seen as one of You. Because this is pride. In the pride month.

I’m giving to You support greater than the word “YES” does it. My stance. And, finally, my poems. I dedicate them to You too, written partially especially due to the events taking place right now. I’m giving to Your hands my confessions entitled “And Who Are You To Be?” and “Of Feminine Touch, Of Masculine Sight”.

Don’t you ever let any being constrict your incalescent beauty of wonder. Don’t you ever let anyone claim you to be only a part of scheme, your job or any other miscellany in the bin. Just like You, I am the greatest wonder the history could have ever seen. Each one of us, on our own.

And one more thing, in reference to “The Star Boy”:
In this dead world, where dreams come
barefoot and unkempt to Nowhere,
let’s dance, like Lady Madrid,
with anarchy in the hair.
This time I'm not writing in poems or any literary style. I'm giving a discourse I want to share with all the LGBTQ+ people and many others who might need it, even if it seems to be little to some. Yet I gave something from myself. This is my English version of it since the original one was in Polish due to all that macabre taking place in Poland right now the most. I invite all the eager to read it and keep it in their heart.
I am with You. Wish you all the greatness. Hope I did well.
Kj Jun 2020
watching you behinD the wheel was a view
even The sOnoraN desert couldn't cOmpete with
i remember driving home From Your mOm's
you tUrned to me and said your Mom adored mE
as The girl you couldn't love,
i thinK tHat's the one thing
I'll always have Over the girl yOu did.
(do you think of me too?)
Don't


Give into
Irrational thinking,
Vague fears.
Express thoughts.


Into your


Speeches
Talks
Relieve your anxiety.
Expose your,
Scars to the world,
Stalwartly as triumphs.
Simple message through sentences
JCabanilla Jun 2020
Morning:
The sky is Blue,
But don't feel like that too.
The tree is green,
So put a wide smile they have never seen.

Night:
The starry night look surreal.
The stars looks so close and real.
The cold breeze of the night feels like a stream.
Before the night ends I wish you a sweet dreams.
So here's a poem I've been writing for someone. I've been writing poem for him everyday to make a little effort for him since we're far away from each other due to the pandemic happening here in the Philippines 🙁 so yeah it may sound cringey but I'll still do it. I started writing him a poem on June 18,2020 so this poem is Day 1 I sometimes give 2 poems per day. For a Good morning message and for a good night message
Kilie Steel Jun 2020
I think I forgot
What I forgot, I'm not exactly sure

Maybe it's your parking space
What type of tea is your favorite
Perhaps it's the kind of car you drive
Or what size shoe you wear

But there are a few things I will never forget

Like how your eyes light up when you smile
The bells that sound when you laugh
Secret conversations in hushed tones

Distance makes my heart fonder
But what did it do for you?
You, who know of my existence
But not of the workings in my heart

My heart may be fonder, yes
But it also hurts
It hurts because I have forgotten

I'm beginning to forget the lines of your face
I no longer know your ambitions or dreams
It's all fading away and I'm not okay with it
I'm not okay with forgetting what brought me so much joy
The person that opened my heart to so many things
without even realizing it

How could you ever know what you've done for me?
How am I ever suppose to thank you?
And even if I got the chance
I don't think I could speak a word
How could I?
I'm afraid of shattering the image I have of you in my head
I need it
I need it like a daisy needs the sun and I'm so very greedy

But I think I've forgotten

The shape of your lips eludes me
And I hate it

I hate myself for forgetting
WIP
Vishal Pant Jun 2020
Black or white only fought in chess I thought
amidst all the frenzy reason was sought
but such trivial things would bring upon the upheaval
here we are back to the postmedieval

MLK died trying to spread the message
Trump was just 'checking' out his bunker
in these desperate times we need a passage
not the hollow words of a banker

The world is filled with choices
black and white
is what they told you in the books
but it's all gray out here

We were supposed to be his best creation
but earth would be better without us
The animals come in more colours than us
It just makes them more beautiful
just penned down my thoughts with the things going on
Diana May 2020
Where have all the flowers gone?
Their delicate petals have withdrawn
They’ve curled up, like they are scared
Their bright colors no longer flared

Where have all the waters gone?
They no longer gleam at dawn
The river and the streams run dry
Leaving the many fish to die

Where have all wildlife gone?
The subtle birds and the baby faun
The chitter and chatter leave only an trace
Of the wonders that have been erased

Where has all the sunlight gone?
It used to wake at morn and yawn
Only a memory of warmth upon my skin
A ghost of what things have been

— OrcasTogether
Nature is failing and we must save it.
Diana May 2020
She traverses the deepest of canyons
And does without help from companions
One might say this is supremacy abound
That this is where bravery is found

She reads and reads through endless nights
And takes her knowledge to great new heights
One might say this is where power comes
That the wise ones shall never succumb

She opens her heart to all she sees
Her smile as soft as the wafting breeze
One might say this is mastery galore
That this is what everyone adores

She goes step by step all the way
The hardest burdens can’t make her sway
One might so this is profuse resolve
The answer to the question none could solve

So which of them holds the brightest light?
Who carries the ultimate might?
But our abilities need not be aligned
For there’s no truth to how strength is defined

— OrcasTogether
:) A valuable lesson.
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