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Malia Jul 26
I spill over my skin
So messy, so messy
I am a puddle
You are a stone.

As you ๐’„๐’“๐’‚๐’”๐’‰
Into me,
It ripples my entire
๐’‡๐’‚๐’ƒ๐’“๐’Š๐’„ ๐–”๐–‹ ๐•“๐•–๐•š๐•Ÿ๐•˜
All while you canโ€™t
๐“•๐“ฎ๐“ฎ๐“ต ๐“ช ๐“ฝ๐“ฑ๐“ฒ๐“ท๐“ฐ
New stuff from old poems!
throwing stones
into the lake
i discovered
the dog
likes to chase
the staccato splashes
as the surface
of the water
is broken
with inexpressible joy
pebbles were tossed
and by handfuls
as i watched
the playful bounding
for over
half an hour

i had not spotted
the fisherman
further along
the water's edge
rolling eyes
and shaking head
as wave
after wave
of rippled chaos
disturbed his lure
and line
scaring away
he had hoped
to catch
lua Aug 2021
i ripple
with each touch
from your fingertips
in constant motions
that glide
hover against my skin
i tremble before you
goosebumps litter my flesh
and yet you say
you're not a god
but your eyes tell me otherwise
each pupil holds the sun and the moon
in warm pools
and with each flutter from your downcast lashes
paints my waters in glints of gold.
bulantubig is the 17th century classical tagalog word for orange/yellow, and it literally translates to moonwater (bulan = moon, tubig = water).
Her feet as light as a feather
At her own pace, moving at her leisure
Her toes making ripples in the water
Gliding over the substance as slow as a saunter
She stares at her reflection as it ripples away
She plunges her hand in and the water will obey
Water trickles through the cracks her cupped hand
Everything about it she can understand
Her only friend, companion, that listens to her every demand
Smiling to herself, she feels grand
Sometimes I like to imagine I have superpowers, but it's all just a fantasy.
Jessica Oge Feb 2021
As a drop in the ocean
I need my Ripple Felt.
Erian Rose Sep 2020
I'm still me
And we're distant now
I've gotten stronger
And growing loud
Sometimes I wonder
If you hadn't gone
Extending hands
Vast beyond the sea
Collecting deep-colored shells
For a heart severed-to-be
noren tirtho Jan 2020
Where is lost
the sweet silence
in the solitude we cherished;
the still truth in
the river of our reflection?

A restless echo
runs into our languid chest
and chases the content out.
A yearning resonates -- everywhere.
There's a ripple
the images come unseen
Haziness eyes
the form of our being.

Serenity compromised
Mirrors shattered
We scream at life
as the blur surfaces.
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