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Aarya 4d
Yes, his eyes are beautiful,
But I died drowning in yours
Yes, he will keep me happy,
But my happiness was,
Gifted to your soul
Yes, indeed, he can provide,
With everything I will ever wish,
But what if I wish the,
Missing piece you,
Which, maybe I have lost
Yes, his voice might be mesmerizing,
But yours held me in a divine spell
I am afraid I will never untwine
Yes, he might take me to
Expensive restaurants and dates
But I am  still held back,
With the handwritten letters and flowers
You wrote and picked, to see me smile
Yes, I might like him,
But I loved you……….
All poems and proses are unfinished
Only those in sonnet are finished
Completed, done, and terminated
A poem or prose can still be edited
Revised, retouched and rewritten
A poem is a powerful tool or weapon
Leave alone my unfinished poems
These are my spices, my stars, my emblems
You don't understand their symbols
And the words used to fill up the bowls
You just have to read my poems ten times
To fully comprehend them. Ignore the rhymes
To pay more attention to the vernacular
They are not bizarre; they are just particular
They are not regular; they are unfinished
They are not strange, they are simple. Kabish!

Copyright © July 2019, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.
Agnes de Lods Mar 21
I will never taste
that exquisite flavor.
You are immersed
in language,
while I admire,
from my balcony,
your collocations,
your state of being,
expressed with juicy metaphors
that will never be mine,
even though I long for them.

I build bridges in the wind
strange in form.
I can offer nothing that
my sincerity and passion,
torn rather than beautifully woven.

Thank you for stopping by
reading them with wonder.
Please think warmly of me
if I fail to ignite your intellect.
I came to experience
I am a freed soul,
finding words in a foreign tongue.
I reconstruct myself
between the lines.
Thank you so much for accepting me into this community. I’m truly happy to meet you all in this virtual space
Gh0ski3 Mar 20
Unwritten words dancing in harmony
How do you do, my diary of diction?
Disappeared into a palace placed objectively
Oh the vocable, structured like an architect
Amuse me with juggling dactyl
Dearest, I'm amazed!
Articulated literature from your hands
Harbored lines of eye catching structure
Seek no other, than the poem.
Position yourself in punctuation, darling
Do not disappoint!
Damsel in distress is what I am without your ellipsis
****** teasing of sentence frames
Fervor a fire, like loving locutionary vows
***** author, put my skim to shame!
Read me beauty in writing
Won't you? My glorious poet
A love poem for poets, kinda funny.
Spurious correlation is when two random variables line up,
Such as shark attacks increasing with the amount of ice pops sold,
Unfortunately for health nuts, ice pops don't cause shark attacks.
But what is truly spuriously correlated is this bullet board,
That I am using to unravel the secrets of writing today.
Such as the number 122 lining up with severely different artists,
As well as well defined writers turning into many missing cases.
If I was ever offered a job as official poet detective,
Of course I would take it, but I would run circles each day.
Official Poets' Association Of Detectives
To those honored poets,
An opportunity has opened up,
I'd like to spread this gospel,
Of a chance to reach new horizons,
Well beyond this world,
Now gather if you dare,
Join and journey to a new place.
You most likely already saw it, but one of the great poets on this site, Ghost, is making an Instagram project to share poetry from this site into the wider world. Go check it out!
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/5008427/hellopoetrys-best/
To those honored poets,
An opportunity has opened up,
I'd like to spread this gospel,
Of a chance to reach new horizons,
Well beyond this world,
Now gather if you dare,
Join and journey to a new place.
You most likely already saw it, but one of the great poets on this site, Ghost, is making an Instagram project to share poetry from this site into the wider world. Go check it out!
THE POET'S LOUNGE,


LET'S ALL
GATHER AROUND,
ALL......
POET'S, LYRICISTS,
ALL WRITERS, and SONNETEERS,
ALL STORYTELLERS, RHYMERS,
and
VERSIFIERS,
as we
BLEND IN HARMONY and
START to INSPIRE,
ALL ARE WELCOME,
LET'S BRING THE JUICE,
TO THE POETESS, SONGSTERS,
METRICIST AND MUSE,
COME AND JOIN THE GANG,
IF YOU SO CHOOSE,
AS WE
VERSE BY VERSE and
SOUND BY SOUND,
I WELCOME YOU ALL
TO:
THE POET'S LOUNGE!!!!!


B.R.
DATE: 3/14/2025
Wait? Is he still here,
Maybe he never disappeared.
He was here all along,
I failed to listen closely to the song.
When it echoes in my ear,
Silently I can hear those words reappear.
To think I thought he left,
Show yourself if I've found you yet.
I just noticed that a new author and Silent Echo's works are almost parallel. Almost as if we just found a paradox? Or better yet, he's in disguise.
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