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Terra Levez Nov 21
If readers were made rulers
Their knights would wield pens
Their wars fought on paper
And their subjects imaginary
We are all rulers aren't we?
Miss Daytona Oct 20
We see, we hear, we watch,
we talk back. We write.
This is a strange time to be alive.

And if a reader finds this poem,
Buried or dropped or kept:

You see, you hear, you watch,
you talk back. You write.

And I bet you feel the same way.
What strange time it is, indeed,
To be alive.
Tizzop Jun 20
The Ocean Inside

I

a place made of cosmic dust and water is
inside of me, birthplace of poetry
red voices are echoing through the ocean
in order to create words of vignettes
the lines are floating above the water's surface

II

how can they escape from the dullness
of my mind? my thoughts are not a poem yet
i have to lure them with music, with adagios
the strings are playing and they are dancing
green layers of feelings transcend me

III

my hand is not writing on the keyboard
the keyboard is writing on my hands
i can not dictate my muse, she is shy
she only comes out when i rest

IV

the muse wakes me up and overtakes
rivers of oblivion, streams of consciousness
no thinking about the reader or the trophy

V

a place made of muses and flow is
inside of me, birthplace of poems
pink voices are echoing through the vignette
in order to create words of a special form
the verses are drifting through clear water
Today is a good day.
new, unused; you picked me up
from quite a few parched with dust over them
excited you were so was I to be selected after all.

picture of me clicked, lights on and a perfect setup,
you and me only with a cup of chai and not so bright lights.

love thrill and excitement,
the first chapter had it all,
you read it and loved it,
like never before.

with the passing chapters the story slowed down,
so did your reading speed,
started forcing yourself, with tired face and sleepy eyes
struggled just to move forward,a bit more, a page more, a chapter more. maybe you should have Let me go at that moment,
but decided to hold.
never did you forget to take out time for me,
I have seen you crying smiling clinching to your pillow like a kid,
also while reading when that pink blush slid. soon the story paced up again, there were ups Lows and heartbreaks,
and you were sailing through them all,
along with me.

I was about to get over,
we were about to end,
you wanted me to be longer but the plot didn’t allow,
you finished reading,
you competed with me and you freed me,
that was how I wanted it to end.

now I am free I promise to be with you,
through your lows and highs and smiles and cries,
that’s why it’s always said,
it all starts with a good book.
ms reluctance Apr 16
This is a poem
only because
you deem it worthy.  

Without your gaze,
amenable and open,
it is a line broken
in erratic fashion –
a skeleton
awkward, unbecoming.

You take my common words
upon your clement tongue
curiously tasting every emotion
compassionate, kind,
with your all-consuming spirit.

You magnolious stranger
with the soul of a friend,
we may never know
each other’s life or pain;
unable to console
or hug
or even wave hello.
But you paint my sparse canvas
with so many inimitable layers,
your perspective,  
your experience,
your empathy,
and the brightest color –
imagination.

This is a poem
only because
you see it as one.
NaPoWriMo Day 16
Poetry form: Free Verse
Nabil Falchou Apr 12
A story does not end with the last page of a book,
It ends wherever the reader desires.
Dez Apr 3
If you desire to be great
Then when you create
Think about those who read
And in considering them you’ll be great indeed
For to consider another is the best of traits
Star BG Jan 8
of every writer to allure the reader.
To take words and amalgamate them
into an offering that are like candy treats that cajole.
They don't bring weight to stomach only mind,
and expands ones consciousness divinely.

Written ditty at times becomes doorway
to emotions whereby brotherhood of eyes
get to spin in splendor.

Yes to entice a reader
is the best compliment one can get.

Hurray to the dream.
First poem of day. Inspired by Scriptedsilence.  Many thanks
Star BG Dec 2019
My writer guide speaks now through me,
to launch my verse, that whispers sweet.
Words dance as they fly toward a page
to anoint future eyes.

I will echo gratitude,
when poem does end and time has flown.
I’ll post it on a site, HP
that calls both night and day.

Perhaps in time some likes shall come
with goal to reach 1000 hearts.
And with a prayer I just may find
it trend to make me smile.

Oh Reader please open your heart
to know in truth you are divine.
Let your sweet love guide as you find,
born is a poem so fine.
Just exercising heart with my new writer guide and out this came.  Thanks all for reading.
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