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Joshua Phelps Oct 2024
Here's another chapter,
Something I've already read.

The sentences are strewn together,
And I'm in my head.

Give me a new perspective,
'Cause something inside me
is dead.

Didn't mean to upset you,
But sometimes,

I wish you'd f*ck off,
instead.

Always a new superstition,
Believing something
that doesn't exist.

Always a new problem,
I've never seen someone
so stressed.

Maybe you're delusional,
But it's not relatable.

Your words make no sense,
And always you're oh so
intense.

Instead of going on,
I'm closing this chapter
instead.
Midnight Zoomies Oct 2024
In distant silence, an ache lingers like a forgotten song,
a haunting melody that echoes through
the hollows of an empty home.

Each separation,
a poignant note in the music of longing.
The desire to convey the depth of absence becomes restrained vulnerability where a heart yearns for more than routine inquiries—
a connection that transcends the ordinary.

Yet, in the vast expanse,
the unspoken lingers as a melancholic language,
a narrative of desire and restraint.

Frustration emerges from unmet desires,
a delicate dance where the fear of vulnerability clashes
with the yearning for profound connection.

Silently, the heart navigates the surface,
resisting the urge to delve into the intricacies of emotions.

Now, a choice is made to reveal little,
to traverse the silence with a delicate grace,
as the unexpressed yearns to be heard in the still expanse.
Aching in the silence of unspoken words, I found myself longing for something deeper—something more than surface conversations. The weight of what wasn’t said pressed heavy, leaving me wondering if I was the only one who felt it. In the quiet space between us, I yearned for a connection that never came. Feeling distant while wanting to be seen.
Kani Sep 2024
I hear you
I hear you so well
Here I am having a full life
Yet dreading the day to be
Dreaming dreams not to be
Dancing at the will of the dread
Wishing wishes ought not to be
I want the set, reset
You so gracefully
Flipped
Yet again, wishing
Wistful
It’s time for another response poem.
This time, I responded to a brilliant performance piece by Sarah Kay, founder of Project Voice.

You can find her piece here: https://pirpoetry.com/2020/04/17/the-paradox/

#responsepoem #saraykay #reflections #poetry #poetrycommunity
Kashi Sep 2024
I want a poem
I so want a poem
May be not just want but need
The need to scratch the itch
That sears the soul
To feed the maga* fire
Burning since the birth
Of time

I want a poem that can absolve me
Of this perenniality
*maga - an enchantress
It’s time for another response poem.
This time, I responded to a cheeky piece by writer Jerry Pinto.

You can find his poem here: https://amp.scroll.in/article/825351/i-want-a-poem-a-poem-by-jerry-pinto
As pretty as she may be,
in this world there are many
who are equally just as lovely,
some may even have a distinct
characteristic as sweet as honey,
they're probably more distinguished
too with a charismatic aura so funny
people gobble up every word ever said
but none pulls me into the sacred entry,
where scrolls of pure devotion are read.
EP Robles Aug 2024
A whisper soft—across the vale,
Where Rona Mae Ronda treads—
Her footfall light, a breeze’s tale,
Through meadows gold—she spreads.

No need of day—her presence brings,
A twilight soft and kind—
With every step—a thousand springs,
Awake in heart and mind.

The daisy turns—her face to see,
As Rona Mae Ronda glides—
Through clover fields—so carelessly,
Where innocence—abides.

The robin pauses in his flight,
To hear her laughter’s sound—
For Rona Mae—by day or night,
Turns all to sacred ground.

She leaves no trace—yet all can tell,
Wherever she has been—
The very air—begins to swell,
With what the soul—has seen.

:: 08.12.2024 ::
Mahogany Ree Aug 2023
on the cusp of tears too stubborn to fall
like vines cascading down her cheeks
fruits of her eyes fall
warm brines
drawing her into awakening
she feels . . .
but then
. . . she doesn’t


© Mahogany Ree
8-24-23
Written 3-16-22
Kewayne Wadley Dec 2021
The sound of fingers
The string of hearts
Pressed wood hallowed out
Digging, digging
Digging, digging
Breathe in breathe out.
It takes courage
Just to exist.
I've tied my heart to a steel string
And lost them around the cuticles
of your fingers.
Of all the cruel things in life
I am glad that you're not one of them.
I've tuned my lips
& Twisted my hips toward you.
You never once laughed
When I mentioned
I am still learning how to dance
Kewayne Wadley Dec 2021
Through the red joysticks
And white & blue slap buttons.
Without the advancement of memory cards
Or weird split screens to
distract.
My last life is always the one
I save for you,
Through the experience points
and colorful gems
There’s much more to explore.
My first wow, my first time, my next again
& Again.
No matter how many times
I feel like I lose,
You’re the reason I always get back up.
My initials fill all ten slots of your heart,
Until you're decommissioned and pulled
Out of stock.
There they will always remain
Kewayne Wadley Dec 2021
Your memories are a poem
Presented to me at the end of the bar.
Alone & fleeting; an escape from reality.
Wanting to take part in the meeting
Of strangers; A variety of faces exchanging
****** temptation disguised as liquid courage.
Chased by the thought of not being alone
Your memories are a poem
Refilled soon as it's emptied. Wished away,
Wanting to be pursued
In exchange for monetary currency.
Bad ideas that roam the ideology of good,
You fill me, I feel you.
I stand & I stumble around the thought of you.
You start to leave me soon as I start to feel you
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