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Zywa Apr 2019
Eyes pass me with a greeting
eyes hang still in the streets
and shopping lanes, eyes fly

around the earth
eyes are watching
around important bodies

alert eyes
that protect, willing
to restrict others

I defend myself
and ward them off
with the hand on my heart

an eye for an eye
beware, I look back
even when I'm not looking
Collection “Mosaic virus”

Hamsa = five, the amulet “hand of Fatima”, originally “hand of Inanna” (Sumer, 5000 BC), then “hand of Ishtar” (Akkad, 2300 BC); Jews used the hand against the evil eye
Mystic Ink Plus Sep 2020
Honestly
When you talk
I perceive different

I listen to the tone of your voice
And observe how the lips move
And when and why did you paused
And watch the expression of the face
And see the furrow of the skin waves
And inspect when the pupil dilates
And light the glow in the eyes
And track how often the head tilts
And admire the reason of your smile
And search the roots if it's the pain

And lastly I witness
How lively you feel
When I am next to you
I see it all
Listen and nod

Just listen
As a raw truth
For now
Prescribing you
Is the inside job

Get well soon
Genre: Clinical Experimental
Theme: That's what I am trained for
Hello everyone, for those that are still here I'd like to inform you that I have my first poetry book Before It's Too Late published under Amazon Kindle! It features many of my poems here, ones I wrote in the past but not posted and some afterwards of my hiatus here.  To all of those that have supported me since I began my account, thank you very much for the fervent encouragement and being very welcoming. This project is dedicated to all of you.


Much love and thanks,
Peter
You can preview/purchase it here at:
https://www.amazon.com/Before-Its-Late-Peter-Hamilton-ebook/dp/B08BX9JN51/ref=sr_1_4?dchild=1&keywords=before+its+too+late+peter&qid=1595051060&sr=8-4
Graff1980 Sep 2020
I’ve been looking,
through glass windows,
reflecting city lights
of the night life.

Strange phantasms
pass like distorted
carnival glasses,
mind mirrors broken
from the harsh words
spoken.

I’ve been searching,
seeking the smiling hearts
of brave angels
who face hateful strangers
that are full of poison,
and spitefully spitting
sick syllables,
possibly contagious,
as they go
instantly viral.

I’ve been watching
cops stopping
particular people,
seen one to many
real life movies
that end in tragedy,
and in observing
the hurting
of children
and elderly folks
I have fallen
to tears of rage
and anguish.

I’ve been wondering
if in my wanderings
seeing this sideshow spectacle,
of disrespectful,
cruel, and hateful
authoritarians,
have I found the true face
of America?
Mirroring for my bridal song.
Opaque reflecting.

Confine my white, blue and yellow or
Yuzu fruit underwater.
The slice of life's parrot.
They sing
The flight, they might be
Waiting at the traffic light.
Narratives speaking out of features.
Features of the strange signature of a left hand.
Explaining is the evermore expectation.

Even when a movie plays
It is not just watched anymore.
The evermore explanation.
Left hand shaking striving in time to help the right.
As it always has been.
Perhaps it had not been seen.

Looking at straight lines like shoots.
The sunshine of restart
Falling slowly.
Tiny windows through a
Favourite scene when the weather is weary
Like watching a movie.
© Teri Darlene Basallote Yeo
ManxPoetryGuy Aug 2020
Cars flying by like Airplane’s in the Night

Create a stream of colour, like an ocean of Light.

Firefly backlights swim on a toxic cloud of Blight

Leading me down their path of Flight.

I- Oh, the path is closed.

End of the Road.
I’ve been gone for a while, hope to get back to writing now I’ve got my creative juices flowing.
Chris Aug 2020
I melted fear
Ice of the trapped
But that grew doubt
Hunter of smiles

I run but its smart
My heart will see the good
But my mind..

Will analyze you to shreds

Should my guard ever fall

Know you have a gift..

Its the task of a saint
Loving a heart of blue paint
People try but its hope feels so faint

So as I fall in endless rhyme
I still get back up with every line..

Knocked down reliably as air gives life

Becoming more human every time
Dante Rocío Aug 2020
Extrovertism
or any other sibling
of it
doesn’t realise itself solely
through the mannerisms of
speaking,
choice of company,
activities or
similar antics.
It mainly possesses in
its hold our
mind as a way
of revealance,
as our
thoughts might cling
on it dependent,
in constant
shouting & fleeting
from Stillness,
our lone
presence
;
OR either have
‘em all ready
in conscious observation
questioning on
the inside in your
private voiceless,
conversation

to detach yourself
from others’
contact
.
it’s all,
felt sublime,
when the latter,
comes and makes,
itself a
difference
.
Extrovertism kills me (like
Alcohol in excess),
Introversion heals me,
Only then do we wake up
To excess injuries
By the junk of existing in vain
(Among the intellectual garbage).
We're not for the public
To their rational pleasure
.
That fascination by how mental
tension both in thought and muscles
changes into sophisticated bliss
when you no longer listen to reply
yet to understand and give yourself over
.
I’m ambivertism tinted
luringly chosen solitude.
And the sun couldn’t scorch
my thoughts aloft to more
Paul Quinton Aug 2020
It did not happen
    it would have happened
        it could have happened
            it should have happened
     but

It did not happen
longing for unrealized possibility
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