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Kerri Dec 2018
Sometimes I wonder
if the smile I gave you
is long gone
or do you keep it in your pocket and put it on from time to time
in the darkness of the night
Maxim Keyfman Dec 2018
with violin in hand with
sand in your pocket
i go i step again
where will i find that
golden bird

I live I want to live
find the last treasure
to burn to burn
and darkness and darkness
never know

play a tune
one melody of the world
play the misty of mist
but fog and gloom
and not know darkness

13.12.18
Anya Sep 2018
I just realized
As I was shuffling
Through my poems
A majority of
My poetry
Seems
To be
A
Pocket
For my
Insecurities
Marianna Sep 2018
When i was fourteen
I learnt how to tie a rope
And practiced on a small string
until i could tie it with my eyes closed

i kept it in my pocket
i placed it in my bag
I played with it when i was lonely
and held it in my hands

Now i'm nineteen
I no longer remember how to tie a rope
But i still keep my small string
In the deep corner of my drawer
only words never actions
Nayana Nair May 2018
Oh! Let me be you.
Who walks with a sun in your pocket
for every rainy day.
Who stood at crossroads
and decided which road shouldn’t exist.
Let me be you for a day.
So that I am not the one
who hides in hollow words,
who makes her bed on the dreams of others.
Let me be you,
so that I can put out my hand
always with the confidence
knowing that the love I ask
shall be given.

But what is this that I feel?
Why my hands shake?
Why my heart cries?

Is it because
the one who is breaking the wall
with bare bleeding hands
has the same pain, same fear
as the one who is hiding behind that wall.
Is it because
this love, this life
leaves no one without scar.
your curtains were walls
the lights shined
on
you
tears
as
beautifully
placed water falls
your curtains
we're
your walls
?
...
..
.
nursery rhyme
riddle
...
..
.
Umi Feb 2018
By my dearest angel Zadkiel as he moves in a clear path, round,
rhytmically, step by step his gears lead him through the passing time.
A golden sight, sparkling, twinkling from the reflection of light.
Locking me, tugging me, embracing me into the deepness of my
own thoughts, which unfold, bloom and become happy memories.
As reality and illusion become one, on the peak of their pleasure,
By time ticking on, now they share the same heart.
This golden coloured pocket watch, cuts through the darkness
within me, with my very own wishes as I yet sink deeper into
deeper thoughts, hypnotic, pleasant, I watch how the minute passes.
The memories created by these thoughts are becoming love,
So that the world I inhabit in is filled with even more light
Tick, tock, making delicate sounds, as he moves unconditionally,
Round and round again until the time has come and he is put to rest.
As then with newfound strengh, he repeats his daily duties as
an source of energy, an ember of determination enters him.
And so, another smile has been cast on me by his gentle movements.


~ Umi
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