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Some where between the perpetual isolation
that we created in the name of personal space.
The wounds that were never healed,
Because they never received the ointment of attention.
The misunderstandings
That pilled up into a giant rumpus,
And ignited the dubious disposition,
turning the intimate conversations into constant fights.
The love that we lost,
To the demonic darkness of our egoistic nature,
Still exists,
But only in the fragments
Of some moth-eaten memories.
There, I wipe the rain
From my glasses. "What
Is it?" I point out, and gaze
At the tune of my heart

To where the autumn trees
Fold into one another like soft
Lovers, wrapped in golden sheets,
Huddled against the wind.

Not a month later, I
Return to bid Autumn's lovers
Farewell to Winter. But they are
No longer bathed in gold;

The plastic sun, a sort of
Yellow lie, towers on a monolith
Where they once stood. And nearby,
A crude, concrete mockery

Complete with billowing smoke,
And a drive-through, stands
Hot-tempered and selfish
Like a wart on the nose of Love.
A poem about greed.
#8 in the Distant Dystopia anthology.
w e  a r e  t h e  o c e a n . . .

      y o u  a r e  t h e   s u n s e t . . .

                        I  a m  t h e  s t a r l e s s
                                                         s k y . . .
Personally, I hate this type of poetry, and don’t even find this poetry, but I had a thought and thought it should go on here for aesthetic perposes... yeah... this does not make sense, but hey, it’s all about aesthetics, right?
JJ Inda 20h
Such a shifting sight death,
timid under the arid sun
-beside the marching dunes.
Here the Turks and the English fought; here only Allah wins.
"My labyrinth has no walls."
it is one of hopelessness.
Yet, there is promise of an oasis is there not?
or is it a Jinn's well?
while lies serve as accomplice,
the truth is all but forbidden.
Jinn is a demon type creature in Arabic mythology.
Ghazal 1d
I am the cushion that life first rests in,
The crib meticulously created layer by layer,
The soft bed of flowers, glistening like blood,
The protector of all beings, the seat of care

My love is fuelled by the silver calmness
I gently extract from the first lunar night,
When the moon emerges from its dark sabbatical,
Armed with tales it gathered from the other side

Each day, its luminosity deepens, its stories
Turn more vivid, more wrenching, more morose,
I soak it all in- the pain, the suffering, the injustice,
And colour myself, in the darkest shade of rose

My red is no ordinary red, it is the
Culmination of every sister's deep cry,
It is the crimson of anger that can only be felt,
By the cradle entrusted with preservation of life

I am full and brimming, with pangs too strong
And hues of vermilion too dark to contain,
I rock back and forth, my cot full of stories,
Twisting, flailing and writhing in pain

And then I burst out and let freely flow,
The dam I created with laments of loss and love
Painted with conversations lasting until twilight,
With my cratered friend in the skies above

Petal by petal, as I lose my form and disintegrate,
She is connected to each woman's cry that I assimilate,
Flexed at the pelvis, helpless yet so strong, she listens,
And understands the lore I sing about, every twenty-eighth.
you’ve always wanted a house near the sea
waking up to the sound of the waves caressing the shore
seeing the flying travellers greet you in the morning
admiring the shining ball of joy blinding you with its glory
you used to say that my eyes were like the sea
but now you tell me that they are like the ocean
at first i was flattered, completely unaware that
it’s actually because the sea became someone else’s eyes
and the owner’s the person you always want to be near
how far is the ocean from the shore?
i thought that
you were giving me
it turns out that
they are actually
and since
there are no
they are
stinging me
that’s how you love
and only then
am i called
Ormond 20h
Treasure in forest,
Water dropping crystal beads—
Dew on wild orchids
Funny how we speak of humanity
But consistently forget what it meant to be all human

We forget the beauty of our imperfections

We forget the real definition of individuality, far too busy pondering over competitions; a comparative analysis of class

We forget what miracle we could've made happen..

If only we could all just fothermucking ditch the dodgamned hate

Funny... hilarious...

How WE boast of humanity, hearts screaming with pride

But tis mother nature's tireless tempermental embrace..

Without fail, reminds us of our forgottens;

OUR capability to unconditional love
To create, to cultivate
Reflect and Regulate
We can cause, We ****** well can change
Test the waters
To evolve
Let's not forget our vulnerability as individuals
Our distinctive attributes

The Power we'd obtain as ONE
Integration over Segregation
Every morning I wake up, thinking of you.

I make it through the day, because of you.

Your beauty, your serenity, your relentless and never ending pleasure festers within the deepest parts of my brain...
24/7 your drowning the pain.

Your love only lasts a few hours,
but 10 seconds is all it takes.

Without you I die,
my head pounds,
my hands shake,
and I cry.

You’ve built a home in me
and from that I can’t go back.

You were my first love,
you are my current love,
and I promise, you will be my last.
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