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Julianna A Mar 2017
Look at those astronomers and astrophysicists
As they attempt to comprehend the universe's mysteries
Stalking stars in the heavens they may never reach
So much discovered, even more yet to be
I can relate.
Julianna A Mar 2017
Here's when I know something's wrong with me
You make a seenzone hurt worse than it should be.
Julianna A Mar 2017
I don't even like poetry and yet
Look at all the things you make me write
I write poetry you'll never read
I'd hate for you to find out
How you inspire such tragedy in me
Julianna A Mar 2017
You stand kicking at your shadow
While I'm tripping on your heartbreak
You follow the stars with your eyes
While mine follow you.
Between us, I'm at a loss to choose
Which one is the fool.
Ma Cherie Mar 2017
I have so many musings
my hands they are complaining,
cuz I can't get them all right,
an so quickly jot them down,

An I feel that I'm connected,
to all my friends and my dear neighbors
an all that I can hear is just is that sound!

Of sweet snowflakes as they're falling,
in the silence sweet n pure,
an so softly as I hear them,
touch the ground,

An soon I'll imagine,
oh a winter wonderland,
in a covering in all you see around,

Those lovely floating wisps,
are so intricate-amazing
those parachuting sprites,
here they abound!

If you ever catch one close up,
well you really really oughta,
cuz the labyrinthine in sight
it will astound!

They are happy little ships afloat,
with an octagonal shape,
landing on all  life,
once sorely browned,

Every child and adult,
is now looking up in awe,
as there smiles turning up ,
instead of frowned!

I thought that I was lost,
an I'd never get to see,

but in poetry it seems-
that  I am found!

Ma Cherie © 2017
Happy poetry! Yeah!?  Lol ; ) ❤❤❤ hope you are all well!
Nayana Nair Feb 2017
I see these places that will remain

as strange as they are to me today.

I see these little people scattered on the streets.

I see them locked away in a world not their own.

This lonely expanse on this never ending piece of earth.

And I see these toy like cars and trucks.

Somehow they don’t belong together.

I try to guess (,to think)

what it feels like to live in such small world

and not on this huge earth.

I guess they don’t know what I see from here.

That life had a dead end.

And at that end

either

we can choose to be in tinier coffins

or

we can be a part of never ending sky

and this ever nourishing earth.
Tiarnán Murphy Jan 2017
What Is the heart of poetry
Rules, rhyme, meter, mood?
Length, width, depth, height?
It matters not what's in sight
Be it saintly or true crude
When a poet writes, poetry
In favour of doing what makes you happy.
Julie Grenness Jan 2017
I scribble here, musing,
In my writer's mind, looming,
Is my muse a ghost writer?
A writer's mind has an insider,
How do your imagine your muse?
Like an ancient soul, thoughts to amuse,
Or is talent our muse?
Thoughts write themselves,
Creating lit. for bookshelves,
All a bit of a  puzzle, you see,
Musing on our muses, a mystery.......
Feedback welcome.
this is halfway
some call it Wednesday
far enough from Monday
that I can almost taste Friday.

Halfway some say
is better than no way
and
this day should be
a national holiday
in my opinion.
There's an awful lot of Wednesday and I for one am quire happy to share mine, it's a bit like cake without the icing and probably gluten free too.
Sombro Oct 2016
I hiss steam,
My kettle ringing desire
I guess we're
Worth what froths beneath...

Beneath inky depths that stain the skin
My yellow parchment, my dish and dash
Turn me, bury my roots for me
And I'll bear you grateful fruit.

Silence, patience
I can't wait for you to speak
I have to go
And paint a dread poem on my skin
Hmm
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