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M-E May 7
Parched lips
Praised God
And an empty stomach
Restrained the rebellious soul
A reminder
For few of many blessings
Someone else is missing
How many men, women and children
The famine drew skeletons on their skin, here in Africa and in the whole world
Emphaty, behave the self
To be loving and compassionate
M-E May 3
From dawn
No food, no drinks and no ****** relations
fasting on the holy month
Only for the fit and the able
Children, pregnant women, the old,
Sick and travellers do not fast.
Prayers and reading the holy book
Are the nutrients for the soul
struggling against desires,
Feel and emphatise with the poor
And with charity make ourselves pure

To sunset
On God's callings for prayer
Time to break the fasting
With some milk, dattes and a meal
nutrients for the body
And more devotion to heal
The body and soul
Mend ourselves as a whole
Maya Jo Apr 3
He's a boy who knows his body
and loves his body
and shares his body
with all the raw insides.
Humanity folded in lightweight-
sturdy bones and supple joints
that bend under heated gazes.
He's prone to say yes.

Whatever it means.

For me, I would taste
and savor each bite of the body
that buckles under warmth
and cut into the bones.
Then, after his yes, I would open
the rest of him.
Unfolding humanity,
mistakes and bewilderment,
the bitter, sour sinew of him-
the boy entirely mine.
Late start to National Poetry Month. Poem #1
Maria Etre Apr 3
The second I fell for you
gave me a glimpse
into a lifetime
National Poetry Month
Shofi Ahmed Apr 3
Our world today shines much brighter
the month ahead is Ramadan!
Blooming upon us is the best of the months
Ahlan wa sahlan ya Ramadan!

Chockablock with pure blessings
is the oasis in the opulence.
Bountifully raised dizzying high
comes with the Night of Measures
better than a thousand months.
Ahlan wa sahlan ya Ramadan!

Everyone, near and far
only look up high!
No rainbow can outshine
the finest face of the serene moon
is about to show up.
Welcome it loud with the whole heart
Ahlan wa sahlan ya Ramadan!
Maria Etre Apr 2
To every poet
that turned misery to beauty
reality to fantasy
life into poetry
love into mystery
words into sorcery

To every poet whose
word on paper
is an invitation
to play with fire
Ylzm Apr 2
Every Seventh is a Rest.
The Day after the Seventh Sevens, a Renewal.
These are the Sevens of Days and Years,
Of Time marked by the Sun and Earth.

The Sevens of Moons is a Recursion
Every Seventh, a Seven, and is Half a Time,
The Fullness thereof, a Twelve.
And every Seventh, a Sacrifice.
Nicole Tracii Mar 24
[April is ****** Assault Awareness Month.]

“****** Assault Awareness Month” is *******.

For 30 days you’ll wear a teal ribbon and hold “We Believe Survivors” signs.

Should I thank you for 30 days of ally-ship?
Did you believe me on March 31st?
Will you believe me on May 1st?

30 days.
You’ll scream
Believe survivors
Support Survivors
Hold rapists accountable.
Bull. ****.

Go ahead and pretend ****** assault only happens in April.
Throw out your teal ribbons on May 1st
because it’s not ****** Assault Awareness Month anymore.
You don’t have to care anymore.

But I do.
What my rapists did is something I live with
335 more days
than you’ll care about an issue.

You don’t realize the ribbons you pin your bags and shirts are
than the
bruises he left on my thighs
you don’t care what one survivors thinks of you
so long as the world knows that
for 30 days, you wore a teal ribbon

Your message of ally-ship
30 days a year
doesn’t erase
your hypocrisy the other
335 days.
lovely Mar 24
1 year
4 seasons
12 months
52 weeks
365 days
8,760 hours
525,600 minutes
31,536,000 seconds
and i want to spend it all with you
i don’t really know where these are going they’re just going somewhere :)
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