with his passion for reading
and my passion to write,

with all of my heart
and all of my might,

I want to pen the words
which he’ll imprint onto his mind:

because my words are the only piece of me,
with him, that I will leave behind

but surely
i know i am running
out of my favorite ink
Veronika 1d

I just feel like I have had an open wound
since I was born and with each of life’s small or big tragedy it bleeds accordingly and there’s nothing I can do

Sometimes I think some people can see it because they give me that piercing look that knows everything

Why must I feel this way

Always yearning

Never enough

Do you think I wanted this, do you think I wished this upon myself

Am I cursed

Am I in love with nobody and nothing

Or everything and you, could be him, could be anyone

No distraction is as perfect as my satisfaction with you

With you, I feel an unfulfilled wholeness

Like I could spend my whole life with you

Even if sometimes I felt you weren’t being 100% honest, or 100% committed, or 100% attracted to me

With each line, each thought I am ashamed and sorry and I want to be rid of the feeling

My body ached
And quaked
Like the earth
Imitating what it was
A natural disaster

- p.d.e

a short one to start with

The mind is a septic tank.
Either, you let the filth sit there, stinking,
Or, you get yourself dirty, cleaning.

Mind interprets  what heart wants but heart doesn't care what mind thinks
All that heart want is the one which eyes wants to see and ears want to hear

Short Poem to describe that no matter what my mind thinks my heart will always search for you. No matter how much my mind hates you but my heart will not stop loving you. No matter how much mind plays a game, my heart will always conquer it.

so i take another hit and lose my mind
my lungs filling with ashes this time

Jim Davis 4d

... it's very hard to absolutely tell
      so much beauty lies therein,
... a drifting butterfly
alights upon one's
      opened hand
... if not for all the
beautiful colors,
   arising in the mind within

... life really cannot get weighed
although we always do at first
... a soul entering through an
      opened womb
alights upon a tiny life unborn
however even
... it's very hard to absolutely tell
      so much beauty lies therein

... sometimes sweet love itself
is all a loss
and then we pine, cry and groan
wishing a time again,
... love adrift in the air returns to    
alight upon a shattered heart
      opened to hardly believing
... if not for all the
beautiful colors,
   arising in the mind within

... for the loss of a living loved which eventually
comes to almost all and one
we are oh so glad
... for any drifting love of friend or kin
to alight upon one's own
      opened yet broke
heart and soul to live, still
... it's very hard to absolutely tell
      so much beauty lies therein

... of course before the end of life
upon these rough stumbly shores
If arrival not much too late
all have hope for
... salvation alights upon an
      opened poor soul
with at first only a wee bit of true
belief of him,  until eternity's
... if not for all the
beautiful colors,
   arising in the mind within

... eventually breath like all love except
God's love leaves everyone
In the known earthly end
... a searching death
alights upon as cause of one's  
      opened grave
         even then,
... it's very hard to absolutely tell
      how much beauty lies therein

... Remember too,
a butterfly, a life, a love, a soul
if caught
and grasped too
tight around, this
... shatters fragile wings,
taking away all and any hope of
soaring flight, of a
a life, a love or a soul,
as a rising butterfly
      opened to the winds,
... it's very hard to absolutely tell
      so much beauty lies therein
... without all the
beautiful colors,
   arising in the mind within

©  2017 Jim Davis

My first attempt at a villanelle poem, thus 22 lines instead of only 19!

Holding ballpen, inks to paper
Are comfortable to my hands.
Writing thoughts that I combine together
That controlled of my optimistic mind.

My feelings and my sorrow,
Are the topic that I want to write.
Everyday, later or tomorrow—
It will be released of my broken heart.

Your flaws and your non-sensibility,
Are the reason why I'm malnourish—
Not physically but emotionally.
I write, because of my tired soul.

The voices of my mind, heart and soul—
Were ignored by the pretending deaf.
It's the cause why I just write at all
And unexpectedly poetry was bleed.


This was written a few months ago, and I want to share it. Thank you for reading!
oui 3d

And if Were being honest I could build an empire from all the red flags you've tossed my way. I always catch them and tuck them away - Hand dye them and stitch them new names, new patterns, they're anything but wrong.

You never felt wrong

My mind floats in the galaxy
My body see kisses, money, pride
One soul wants to be better than another
Throwing colors that turns to ashes

I can't run
So I stand still
And watch everything burn
They love fire
They dance

I found my sanctuary
In my mind
And follow where it wanders
To the infinite supernova
I float

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