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Wither, weary eyes
  Come seek me here at high noon
    Blind, in the sunlight.
   Silver light sings now
  Shadowing the night so deep;
Called, I answer.
Down where mischief keeps
  Its uncertain ***** laughter
    I build my garden.
     ***** and stick, the thorns
  Growing lovely now, the leaves
Rarer still, the rose.
Icy crystals of frost
  Lacing the window like lattice
    Fading in the sun.
   Whisper, quiet touch;
  Your skin, soft and supple;
My world, beside me.
Wheezing, hacking hurt
  That torments me like the plague
    Springs sweet gift to me.
Andy May 13
Words at the tip of my tongue
At the nib of my pen
Refusing to step outside
And see the light of day
I nudge them a little
Encourage them to see the world
They don't have to be perfect,
They just need to be my vessel
My messenger
To contain and carry my thoughts
I just need someone
Or even something else to know

I don't force them outside
If they refuse to obey
I just **** them gently
Day by day
A scribble at a time
Until the words tumble out
Ready to come outside
Each step easier than the last
Tripping less often than they used to

Maybe on some days
The words become more stubborn
Revert back to their old ways
Refusing to be written
But it's alright
They just need a break
Give them some time
And they'll get back to their groove
Words dancing on paper
In perfect harmony
In sync with the rhythm
Of what my heart
Wants the world to read
nif Apr 28
off I go
out of my mind
into my soul

movement mentality
I flow
the only thing I truly know
the body grows

contracting and relaxing
I feel everything

if something is off
it will show
off I go
because I know
how to grow

plant the seed
leave be
till pressure is released

a painful expierence
of importance will commence
I promise

slow &  flow
yogi thoughts during playtime :)
nif Apr 26
sensations I feel
soft words
slide into my

slit my throat
soak a toe
some words do
slip into
sweaty palms
scrunch tightly by the tip of your
second finger one time

surrender to this lack of
so deadly my words
sedate a
slave for you  

sold for gold  
saved and brought home
safe and
secure by the  
side of a

still night
strip right

shut the door
shh, "I like it open"
sneak me

*** between
someone i love is
something innocent
scribbles unlike any
scripted in my; as I breathe
see you in me in, these words you read

so true
send nudes
thiS  waS
s'fun :)
Masha Yurkevich Dec 2019

The difference between
is a little

Everything takes a little 'umph'
Brandon Amberger Dec 2019
There are very few things that you won’t get better at with practice, time and resilience.
Carl D'Souza Aug 2019
I need
to continuously practice
responding to situations
according to my best principles of wisdom
because continuous practice
improves my skill
at striving for joy and happiness
in a wise way.
Sabila Siddiqui Jul 2019
At times they were just plain words on paper
and at times they were expressive and powerful poetry.
At times it was paint spilled all over
and at times it was a masterpiece.
At times it was a stress
and at times it was a relief.

I guess
progress was never meant to be linear.
It was never meant to be all flow
without ebb.
It was never supposed to be all great and good,
but neither were these times supposed to have the power
to bring you down to give up,
because you feel it will never be good enough.
Ken Pepiton Jul 2019
This face, this phaze, this fus-if-i-can't-ation,

see me
the de ift sign

sent, not here, else

who were you up there?
up there

all this you and me being began,
were you
up there?

God.I'd guess, but tha's a cultural

struct, they say, God the way I imagined
I remember, until now

when you ask me a reason for the faith
in me

I say reason, per se,
the thing,
faith, itself as it hapts t' be in me, y' see.
I be letting that be my

answer, when asked
to give a reason for the faith in me, y'see.
It is war. My side does win. The peace you shall someday find shall remind you.Peace practice
Jon Thenes Jun 2019
my untackled thoughts
quake miniature dramatics ;
cramming for the light
having fits for my attention

through each
I am irresponsibly born
and then hastily killed...
it is a wasteful process

from now on
I shall label them
as they surface
I shall call them Petty Mort
both a joke at their expense
and a simple dismissal

with this manner
I shall practice trimming them
from my chosen daily effort
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