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Styles Oct 2022
a kitty cat walks down the alley
seeking to be seek'd
she is in heat
your king
they meet
My Dear Poet Oct 2022
To all my untitled poems
you have kept me sane
I’d like to say thank you
but I don’t know your name
Neon Robinson Nov 2021
This clade of “tree”
if  you can believe that
! That this is   what   the
...      silversword alliance technically are.
It's closely related              tarweed...


The first **** wasn’t lonely for long and had
multiple terrains to colonize.
& tall tales take solidified liquid form
from the something
making water like fire
or air we can’t see floating like ice.
Pushed in a away a tsunami
seem small as they cross over the ocean.

Only they roar
louder then anything heard, but a drip
silenced lost lost
to deaf ears
empty troughs of the dunes  
soft sand triumphing over the oceans.


The four subclades within the crossing times
sowed their alliance,
silversword are the tall tales
detail of long ago seemingly insignificant kept
life form, form life , forms
forms life

we know because it’s indistinguishable from the rest.  

probabilities estimates Vertical
no horizontal or dashed lines.
Bound by the ' it was', see.
we are to the way we
were. Read the possible
probability of a tale, A tale  

of a tall tale. Told.
Origination, will, times. They tell,
seconds per island
complex (from left-to-right:
Kaua‘i, O‘ahu, Maui Nui, Hawai‘i).
I love trees

science is so stern its silly
Renae Sep 2022
I want to be free
Free to be myself
Free to be okay with
noticing you notice me
I want to be okay
with my silhouette
I don't want to get over it
I want to be okay
I want to laugh
Laugh at me, I want to be silly
I want to feel happy
I'll never understand why
I cry and cry
I refuse to accept me
So I'll never be
what I wanted
I guess that's alright now
I'm still learning
What I'm supposed to know
I am not so good at being me
I'd like to switch places
instead I'll sleep
Feeling melancholy and things like that
Zywa Sep 2022
A poet fiercely

yearns for a louder silence --


than the other speaks.
"Poëzie is: over goeie regels ontevredener zijn" ("Poetry is: being more discontented with good lines", 1984, Herman de Coninck)

Collection "Shortages"
I love you like the sun loves the day

I love you the way morning meets my windows
and then my face

The way the stars stay faithful to the night sky

How the spring greets the summer and bleeds to fall

Like the breeze that passes through trees
Caressing gently the autumn leaves

Springs polite decline to winters invite
A harmonic fight

I love you like the way the darkness is pierced by the light

Every time you smile my heart takes flight

Love like a movie
Black and white

Bursts of colour
Soundtrack to my life

I love you every time my heart beats

Constantly, consistently, fiercely, calmly, bravely, quietly… with every adjective and all their synonyms

With every vessel and part of me

I love you every time my heart beats.
Love like a symphony
I hear it every time you breathe
You’re the conductor
Pulling on my heartstrings

The sound of your heartbeat
My loves lifeline
Till the end of time

Because I love you.
I love you every time my heart beats.

© Raffi
Odd Odyssey Poet Aug 2022
As to start all conversations, with an ending thought
to all discussions. "I choose to say a few words"
To express more in an after action; a moving poem.
I self identify as a pen—how and when?
We both bleed the same. We both could be weapons stabbing
at your side again, and again. And again!
But I’m not violent; I’m priceless—priced less for being
like this. Now isn’t that so priceless?
Rebellious and outspoken when my pen feels profound,
only when the right words are found.
And I’m actually funny, but no wait—not so funny.
I’m broke, but not referring to not having money.
I’m a joke, that I sometimes find funny. But in the current
currency, we sometimes fold like money. Easily at times
as a worthless currency.
Looking always for the perfect piece —well you’re looking at it.
Guilty of being authentic; point you finger out to say he did.
The poet who knows it!
louella Aug 2022
it’s been a whole year
since i wrote my first poem
it’s been quite a rollercoaster of
a year, but i’m grateful
for it all
i’d like to think that
i’ve evolved in
the topics i write about
the ways i convey emotion
i’m nowhere near a
good poet
and i’ll never be
but heck,
it’s only been a
year since i
first started writing
poetry
cheer for me. jk

8/21/22
Poetries wear the pain so beautifully..
Poetry : My best friend
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