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Marri May 2019
Drunk on honey and milk.
In this dim lit room,
We lay under thin sheets that cling to our bodies with sweat.
The air hangs heavy here,
And it smells of you and I.

We whisper in hushed tones,
We giggle,
We kiss.
Nothing has ever felt as good as this.

Drunk on every touch of skin.
Drunk on every word of sin.
We melt into each other.
We melt into another.

This is what we live for.
This is the moment we die for.

Suddenly,
The rest of the world melts away.
It’s just us two.
You look into me,
And I look into you.

Our hearts dance to their new found rhythm.
Our lungs share the same breath of air,
And with our final sigh.
Our mouths say, “Fulfilled”--
And then we die.
Jo Barber Jun 2019
As a I girl, I had
a small music box,
which I played over and over.
I wound it up,
and the ballerina inside
would spin and spin,
her dance and the song
a simple embrace of youth.

There are versions of myself
that I have long since forgotten,
long since forsaken.
The rhythm will find you,
make you into someone new.
But this tune brings me back,
always,
to the little girl
who spent hours watching ballerinas dance.
Ylzm May 2019
A tap, a clap
Silence broken
Eternity fractured
Time created
We remembered
Before, After.

Another tap, or clap
Fragment of Time
Captive in mind
Measuring Tempi
Marking Rhythms
Without Memories, no Music.
Leigh May 2019
Crowded streets, alive with a rhythm
That moves too fast for me.
I carefully weave through a town for the artists
Who need someone to be,
Into a quiet place;

A crowded mind, sustaining an echo chamber
Fit for our times.
Surrounded by a thousand decisions
I look back at a life
Up on a pedestal.

Where I missed the signs in smiles and glances,
And hold out for those second chances
At the moments that I've missed;
Never lived.

(I) Detach from the dream disrupting the rhythm
That makes you you, and me?
Lost in time;
Compulsively collecting the moments
That made me want to be
In this quiet place to read

(Read) All the signs in smiles and glances;
I won't change the world discarding chances
To move on from when we lived,
But we'll live, we'll live, we'll live...

(I'll live)...through all the second-hand supposed answers
Composing poems in hopes of small advances
Towards the peace of mind I need
To find me again.

Crowded streets, alive with a rhythm
That moves too fast for me.
.
Lae May 2019
It's that feeling again. A deep longing for something, for someone. For a feeling- an embrace.



As I lay near the window pane with a heaviness inside my heart, I hear a sudden fall. A soft thud replaced by a loud cry. As raindrops started to dominate- I closed my eyes and thought of something.

My mind was blank. My body cold and restless. I reached for the blanket and stuffed myself in.



I've always thought that the rain was melancholy. How it could make me feel happy and sad at the same time. It's either a blessing or a curse. I've thought of it as a nature's call- a sign that even the world gets tired sometimes.



Busy streets, busy people. You will never know how deep the rain is until you have found yourself broken for the first time. How you could feel how angry thunderstorms are and how stupid the rain keeps on falling. You think of it as something you hate for getting yourself wet, but the coldness you will feel after getting a shade will stay. It would be like hearing every droplets fall in slow motion and feeling how heavy the weight is under your chest.



It's like a rhythm, a song you must learn to dance. Feeling the droplets fall into the stillness of your hands. Oh, how you wanted it to stay that way- but it keeps on slipping away. Those droplets delicately stroking your palm and smoothly going in between your fingers. It's like a touch- something you know is nonexistent, but it brings you at peace.

These are the stages- where you feel like everything is falling apart. Sadness is like that- and it will be sad for a while, you know it will be, but then you will notice a streak of sunshine after the rain.

Rain is captivating. Rain is shallow. It's the pain that's inside your heart who keeps on hurting you, the memories you once forgot deciding to ruin you again. It's because of all those things that have made you sad.



Own it. Gravitate to it. Rain isn't all about the sad endings. A rainbow after the rain has always taught me that i can be happy. I can always be happy- as long as i accept the things that are keeping me away from the happiness i deserve. Rain is beautiful. Rain is magical.



Science explained how the rain was made, but i still believe that it's something God has given to us. It was as if even though we have different lives and different problems, it kept us one. Like we know that somewhere and somehow- we have a place to belong to. A place where we know we can truly be free.



And that is what the rain is for me. Something that kept me whole. Something that made me think will wash away the pain of my yesterday. Something i know will last.





. . . . the reason i see the beauty of life. A sign to keep me going. A sign to know that i'm real.
And life is your
Music that slows down
As time kicks
Like the gravity
Of shoes falling from our feet
For lifting them too high;
The inevitable mortal arrives.
© Teri Darlene Basallote Yeo
Nemis Apr 2019
Have you ever tried to look for the rhythm in your soul?
Does it sings when you can't or dances when you can't.
The voids of your life, days of thunder and sunshine
Trying to fill it with colors though what might you find.

Have you ever tried crying when it rains?
Laying out on a summer afternoon, dazed by the bluesy haze
Cool breeze strikes your face
Does it remind you of somebody else?

And as the last sunshine of an endless day passes by
Out in the open, ocean full of stars fills your dreamy eyes.

Have you ever tried being someone before anybody told you to be?
Before the dark clouds gathered in your way.
The thoughts of the world filling your empty space,
Is everything alright? If not just say...
Look inside you.
A Apr 2019
Iced coffee brew
Cars in a monoxide stew

Wind on a pigeon's back
Paper pierced by a tack

Tapping feet, concrete floor
Spray paint on the decor

Cold air swept in lungs
Gum rolled across sugar tongues

Change in a rough hand
Canned tomatoes, name brand

Pillars scraped by the sky,
They stare down, eagle eye.
I'm writing this for a competition, so...comments and reviews would be fantastic. The poem is based on the rhythms of cities. The one described here is Kansas City.
Erian Rose Apr 2019
as the lyrics come to a pause
when the rhythm departs in the air
all is left is the broken radio
and tears dried as fair
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