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Shofi Ahmed Aug 2021
One half
is one in two.

The other half
is one’s dream
comes true!
Ylzm Jun 2021
The Other—Tolerate, don't show your hate
Turn away the Eye and Feet but not the other Cheek
The Weak's in Power now, but we're Strong
Rights we have even to Defend them in Blood
Intimidate, in Silence, or Not, but Legal
History's on our side, Evil shall not prevail
Greater we shall be, only a Foretaste we've had
We shall be One, and no Other, and by Choice
Tichozpytec Apr 2021
To see the World without the light
To watch the flow of the wind
To listen to owls in their flight
To hear the spirits sing

To feel the breeze of a windless day
To taste the river of love
To smell the words other people say
To dive into waters that flow above
Heike Borgard Apr 2021
The pink strands in her black hair turned into dark violet
and her leather suite changed into a shirt of white linen..

the last chapter had begun
The veil between the world became translucent
being lifted far to early:
Beyond the veil - the long cold road to eternerty
                      that nobody wants to walk
  Right into the void
                        where nothing can remain                    
      no white light at the end of the tunnel....
      no welcome from anybody....

Just a fading whisper about her.... into dark violet - leather to linen...

                Echoing - dying  -
                                                         ­       Infinite Void

                              as if she had never existed

                                            nothing but
                                         DARK OBLIVION
a bit darker poem this time
*this does not apply for animals - animals go to the rainbow bridge !*
JJ Inda Feb 2021
She never understands poetry,
with all it's metaphors
and symbology;
no, she is more concrete.

She is not a fan of Shakespeare,
prefers Jane Austen;
clear words,
structure plot.

She does enjoy a drink
and lazy afternoons,
the ocean, the beach.
Most of all she fits.
S Jan 2021
You scan me
With your Western eye
Standing tall, clinging
To your elitist lie.

With your righteous mission,
You desire is to teach me,
Yearning for my submission,
Refusing to free me.

The lies you tell yourself
Do not deceive me;
You claim to make me more,
While forcing less of me.

More ‘educated’
More ‘cultured’
More ‘literate’
More Western.

More you, less me.

The volume of my voice
Is not primitive, nor savage
It is my culture, my heritage,
Which you have ravaged.  

My culture, my language,
My education, my literature,
Are slowly eradicated
By the standards of worth
You have dictated.

My language is not irrelevant,
Nor menacing.
It is my heritage, my legacy,
Tainted by your supremacy;
It is not powerful as Athena,
Rather it burns with the fiery
Passion of Nuha.

I will not be silenced,
I will not lightly tread,
For those who fake alliance,
Whilst wishing me dead.
Lulu Sarmiento Dec 2020
And then.
Love fell.
Night is day.
Day is night.
Circling around.
Endless bound.
The Unknown Nov 2020
They can tell
When my
liver's working too hard
But they can't tell
When I'm on

They accuse
of mischief
and mayhem
but they don't know I'm high
till I tell them
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