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Magnetic attraction
No connectivity
You keep me at wave's length
A poet is made of many things
On the surface you'll see skin
Stretched across weary bones
Often with scars
Open them up and you'll see a heart
Broken, but held together with broken promises
Where their intestines should be are rivers of passion, Deep as oceans
Stomachs have been replaced with galaxies
Starlight guides them
A poet is stitches together with maybes
With could have beens and should have beens
Some poets are cities; walls built by torment, but beautiful
Some are fields of wildflowers; hearts as fickle the breeze that guides them
And others, others are oceans
Strong, yet gentle, following no one but the moon
The one thing that ties us all together in the love in our eyes despite the hurt
The way we see the world in a beautiful light no matter our trauma
What ties us all together is the fact that we
We survived
Verdant Quo Dec 1
Observing the outside
from a distance
I can see a great expanse

Moving forward
I lose the landscape
but can see the selection in better detail

Even closer now
the outside greys
as every flaw becomes noticeable in proximity

One step closer
and everything blurs
as the lines are indistinguishable and unnoticable

And even one more
now is black
I’m too close and can’t see anything because of it.

i’m under a microscope.
Every last breath
I witnessed

Reminds me
Science must be a myth
Genre: Clinical Abstract
Theme: Beyond medicine
Justyn Huang Nov 26
Quantum me, O! Mind
encapsulated by invisible
trapped and dragged
on a cloud wafting
on a space dime.

as if forever and never
could ever remain,
warbling incessantly through time.
WIP? idk If I should expand.
Breon Nov 19
The silence rages at the walls as,
In the bowels of the science building,
Thirty sweating, stifled faces stare
Through the glass of flat-bottomed flasks
To witness annihilation: acid and base
Finding a measure of peace, as it were.
In measuring and pouring caustic ****
How bile overflows in a rush to quench
The rising roil of acid in your gut,
They replicate results nature produces
Largely by accident, and so do they.
Later they'll forge their reports
With Vulcan's own creative gleam,
But here, it's patient swirling,
Steady hands, and holding breath -
Excited, maybe tired, maybe terrified.
Lab courses take an hour of prep, three hours of experimentation, and two hours to write up a week. Getting only one measly credit hour for the experience is a travesty.
Baqir Talpur Nov 13
Let’s defy these scientific rules for a minute
And immobilize this systematic reality.
Lets make our own personal route
Towards a surreal land, just like fantasy

A place where i could stretch my arm and grab a star
A place where you could sit by my side, holding a jar.

Where we could put them in jar and keep it under the moon.
Then listen to their sweet, soothing and mellow tune.

Where we could make anything from their glowing dust.
Or use them to fullfil our wishes, if we must.

A place where we could be together for *****.
Only if we could defy scientific rules for once.
Emmanuella Nov 12
The scientist moved from table to table, beaker to beaker. She adjusted her goggles on her nose and sniffed, turning a vial on its head, tipping its content into another.
She stood back and with frantic, excited gleams playing in her eyes observed the mixture fizz, fizzle, pop, sizzle and flow over.
She hmmed and this is where I stepped in, asking her, what it is she was doing. What experiment was she carrying out? What question she was attempting to answer.

She, beginning an attempt anew, picked up a vial containing a sweet-scented liquid and stepped up to her table again.
“I’m trying to see...dear. I’m trying to see...”
“See what?”
“The balance. What is the right amount...” She breathed this last sentence under her breath like it was a question more to herself than an answer to me.
“The right amount of what?”
At this, she turned to me.

“Of Love.” She said.
“For you either love too much or too little.
Or you either receive too much love or too little love. And in each case, it leaves a dreadful feeling in one's stomach.
This cannot be healthy. It isn’t. So I must find out this equation, solve this puzzle for it is so perplexing.”
She turned back to her vials and beakers, murmuring under her breath all the while. “It is so perplexing...it is so perplexing...”
"And what amount of love will you give, and what amount of love will you receive that does not amount to a dreadful feeling?"
jyotikamarine Nov 10
The greatest thing of c++
The comments you use won't come in execution.
So why wasting commenting your life.
Just focus on all small things.
Like a sentence can't be completed without a ;
Marley Gold Nov 7
Life is a series of experimentation
Tests based on multiple observations
Sometimes of the same thing
And yet I still have questions that still need to be answered
And there are no 4 options to choose from
And even if there were
The letters would have disappeared from how many times
I’ve shaded the circle
Just to erase it again
And sometimes I try to look for a quick summary
Just a simple short answer question
But there’s so many different variations
And none of them fit right
So I end up filling 3 sheets of paper
With just one answer
Just to get no credit
Because your teacher wanted you to
What’s too much for you
To summarize

Once I think I’ve found a hypothesis
I receive some data feedback that
Doesn’t correlate
And so this idea
Of what this is
Of what love is
Of what life is
Can never be really answered
Like a webster’s dictionary entree
Or by anyone’s own experience
Because like time
It changes and grows

There was a story of a famous cobbler
Who was visited by a demon
And he was forced to make shoes for it
And when it came back for its shoes
It mutated between an elephant
A mouse
A man
A dog
I don’t know how to cobble the shoes that could fit
So many forms
From hooves
To talons
To perfect pedicured toes
That’s how love has always come into my life
And yet I have felt it so many times the same
Like a squeeze not on my heart
But my entire chest
But how do you cobble shoes
To fit so many feet
While staying the same

It’s like trying to explain why you hate something
To someone who has no idea
But you have that idea
Because of jealousy
Or something that happened
Maybe too long ago for you to
Put words to it
But there’s that feeling in your stomach
And your brain is mashing the eject button
Whenever you have to be close
To this disgusting
**** thing
That people would hate too
If they only knew
The feeling you
Just have

Until you
I didn’t have that missing link
And suddenly there are words in my mouth
To explain
The evolutionary changes in my mind
Of why
And not how

My Lucy
Knowing that you see the same sky above me
With me
Makes the stars diamonds
You are the reasoning as to why
I have love
Why I try to love
Why I live to try
To love
You are the clips in my brain
Constantly cycling through
The wrinkle of your jawline when you laugh
The way your shoulders bounce
The way you kissed me on new years

You kissed everyone else there
But I had to blame my sore stomach
Tying itself in knots
On the alcohol
But it was the butterflies
That you set a fire to
In my lower intestine
And they were crawling
Up my throat
Choking me
With their wings

And when you finally wanted me
As I watched you,
Wanted you
On the same warm rubber
Of the trampoline
In late spring

But the same rubber
Was cool
The night that I connected your lips to mine
And the look you gave me was
So confused
And distant
We were all so close
And the heat was radiated
Piled bodies pressed together
On top of us
Around us
And yet you managed to pull away

I wanted to break that distance
But that dark night was so bright
And so vivid
That in my mind
The look you had
Pulled away
And again
And again
And in the yellow room where
Everything was so warm
And loving and hard
When it needed to be but
So soft
Recalling that time is
So hard
Because while the yellow is
So bright
It hurts
And photocopies into my brain
Like it was recorded over the same tape
That took in the image
Of you pulling away
The warm yellow
Again and again
By your face
Pulling away
Further and further
From mine

I cling to those warm images
Trying to think of just those warm images
Why can’t I just think of those warm images
The smell and feeling of you lingers
Like the heart beats I felt throughout my body
I think of you
And not just myself in your eyes
I don’t think of how sad I was
How much I wanted your attention
To validate me
Call me a person like Adam’s animals
Claimed with names like labels
That one has to live up to
I just wanted to experience
Your presence
And that yellow warmth
I just wanted to watch you
As a painter
As he would paint with such a tired, wise, skilled hand
And learn by just observing how you take in the world
And repeat it in your own imagery
Your own beautiful imagery

And I burn
When I think how people have seen this
And scrape at the surface of all you are
To present you dirt
Where tectonic plates should be moved
To give you the yellow sunshine beneath your feet
And swirl around your hair
Like a halo
Just to see how beautifully you reflect it
And when you came to me
With balloons twisted around your ankles
I wanted to hold you to the ground
And be your tethering rock to the world
I loved you too much to say the right words
To twist our fingers together into knots
And lock into place what we could be
So I turned away and let you be pulled back
A memory lost to gravity

To this day I can quote all of lilo and stitch
Or homeward bound
And still they sit on my shelf
Only to exist
When I chance a glance at their titles
And certain scenes come back
In vivid Technicolor
Playing in the back of my mind
And like someone had ****** with the tv’s color settings
Everything is just so
I'm now really close friends with who this poem is about and they'll always be dear to me. There is some people you're always going to want in your life.
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