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Jack Jun 2022
Cry me a river
I'll paddle to you,
Enough of wasting tears,
Don’t you see that I'm here for you?

Please smile,
Seeing your smile already made my day,
Your giggle is a lullaby to my ears,
like I'm living a dream,
But with you in it,

The word love, frozen in my mouth,
I can only kept it inside,
Can you make my life better?
I can wait,
Maybe a thousand years or more,

Touch my heart,
You'll feel the warmth,
as the last flame of mine,
exist for you,
Let me remain in your heart,
So we can connect as one,
we shall rejoice under brilliant night,
dance with million stars,
where you shine the brightest,
As you always do.
Mystic Ink Plus Mar 2022
Judge me
By the color of
The soul

You will find
Your color
Is my color
Genre: Experimental
Theme: It just is
bess goldstein Nov 2019
dear lover,

          I promise I will stop bringing up his name
over late-night calls, 
cups of bitter coffee,
and my lonely bed.
          I will give you my love
like it is your first glass of water,
your dry, thirsty eyes allow me
to believe in second chances.
          I will never trap you,
pin you down like butterflies in the frame,
for my broken wings know the feeling
of watching your love say goodbye
behind a piece of glass.
          I promise we will make love
without an expiration date tattooed
on our inner thighs.
          I will hold you, despite wondering
if this is the last time your hands
will touch mine.
          I promise I will wear your heart on my sleeve
like a new coat,
putting the scratchy, hand-me-down fabric 
back in the closet.
          I’m sorry if he still makes me cry.
his name still sounds like guns falling
onto the oak tree roots outside of your window.
          I will grow from this.
I’m still waiting for those shots to stop ringing in my ears
when you tell me you love me.
I was just dragged out of a cold war,
my blood is now too warm to clean up
the battlefield he has made of me.
dear lover,
          I promise one day my wounds will heal,
that the only scars you will need to love
are my stretch marks.
          I’m glad you understand
that empty promises are Band-Aids over bones,
they will never heal me.
thank you for holding me as I bleed and cry,
and thank you for letting me speak of him
one last time.
          sincerely,
                    -me
:) :( it be like that
kaitlyn Jul 2019
I thought I knew you
Now you are nothing but my perception
Did you really mean what you said to me last night?
I used to be able to see it in your eyes,
I can't anymore
I thought maybe I knew you again for a second,
but I don't know you
I never knew you
18/7/19
Mystic Ink Plus Mar 2019
It all began, with magic
Let me guide you, home
In case, you forget
Genre: Micro Verse
Theme: Sincerely Yours
S K Anderson Apr 2018
Dear people-who-think-global-warming-is-not-a-thing,

You have eyes, right?
You're just not using them?
Because I can open your eyes,
but I can't give you new ones.
But either way, you have ears
so listen up
because I'm going to tell you
why you're wrong.

For one,
this is a scientific issue,
not a political one.
It's not something
that can be debated.
Fact
not
Fiction

Now that's out of the way,
here's the numbers:

Throughout the entire human history,
carbon dioxide levels have
NEVER
been above 300 p.p.m.
(parts per million)
What to know where it's at now?
400 p.p.m.
On the scale of things...
Let's just say we're *******.

That's not enough for you?
I'm just getting started.
Sea levels around our lovely planet
have risen 8 inches
In the last hundred years.
Know what else?
NASA says that,
"The rate of the last two decades, however, is nearly double that of the last century."


Also,
You know Stephan Hawking?
The really smart guy?
Yeah, he says you're wrong,
so...

So this is me
begging you
to open your BEAUTIFUL eyes
(I thought maybe flattery would help)
to this disastrous situation.
It's not my imagination,
It's the end of our civilization.



Sincerely, The Environmentalists
I spent so long writing this one.
By so long, I mean about a week since most of my work
is done in minutes.
***
Mystic Ink Plus Feb 2018
Wish of a long ago,
With all conscious realm
Beyond the body
In profound silence
Sat by the highway
Connected with a glorious sun
With a mirage of fleeting joy
Self Programming journey
Sensing with all senses
Sharing life, ideas and dreams
A very breath of life
Footprint in a shore
Dance to the sound
People around, all defining happiness
Time of lasting memories
Everywhere and everything

Sincerely yours,
Peace of mind.
Note: I was not a poet, then it happened.
Shared from my Anthology, Canvas: Echoes and Reflections, 2018.
Àŧùl Feb 2017
I love you for the beautiful and complete young human being you are.
You value your blood relations.
You work for a stable future.
You are truthful towards me.
You never kept me under a false impression that you love me too just like I love you.
Though I am probably not going to meet you ever, let alone marrying you, but I do feel for you.
My HP Poem #1407
©Atul Kaushal
Guss Jul 2016
To Whom It May Concern:

I have been an artist since birth
but clearly not genetically.
My mother was a dentist’s apprentice,
while I was in the womb.
My father was a quirky astrophysicist
and still amidst the devils,
he is yet to find himself.  
I on the other hand make sandwiches.
I make sandwiches,
I take photos,
and I write the things that I sense
or that I think I know.
Very simple.

I have never been one to understand the American dream, but I do respect my need for it.
I knew the idealistic trend of the Internet very well,
as I was raised in Silicon Valley,
but the phrase “From rags to riches”
never really penetrated my questioning soul.
--------------
Instead,
I found that the world was my oyster
and I gregariously lived my life in the pursuit
of one-dollar oysters.
I have watched the seasons change.
I have known the plight of love
and I’m even wise enough
to lead my heart by it.
Elisa would tell you.
--------------
I have gawked at knobby shadows
falling on a wall traced out by a winter tree
and then been entranced by the odds
that I might be the one
who sought out that beauty
having been there to see it too.
But more so,
I have seen births.

I have seen the vibrancy from which life unfolds.
And I have seen the clenches of deaths fingers
wrap around the neck
of my most honored and beloved people.
I’ve seen beautiful cities fall prey to oversaturation,
I’ve watched the crashing waves
of the Pacific Ocean **** in pollution,
I’ve seen fires blaze through
the mountain sides of Santa Barbara,
and I’ve watched the shoals bats that fly
at the twilight summons from underneath bowels
of South Congress Bridge,
which is never bad.

I’ve made friends,
and I have made enemies
both of which I love.
I have been sick
then been healthy
and respect the values of their lessons.
Some of the other things I’ve seen
I’ll admit are unimportant.
--------------
But I still watch the trickling patterns of rainfall
and ponder at their stories.
I still squint at the gleam of the ocean
and beg it to tell me its origins.
I will always gaze at the sky
and I ask for a gust that might make the hairs
of my arm tingle with delight,
or nostalgic sorrow,
or anything at all.

I’ve questioned everything but what my mother told me.
Not until I turned eighteen, did I start that.
I’ve built batteries out of vinegar, aspirin, pennies
and copper wire.
I charge the insight of my peers
by poking and prodding.
I can braid hair,
I can hop scotch,
I can play the juice harp.
I fight for the underdog.
I fight for the tormented.
I speak for the scolded,
the hated,
the sad,
the abused,
the forgotten,
the forsaken,
the foolish,
the sinning,
the begging,
the beaten,
the overworked,
the shy,
the lost,
the hungry,
the bilious,
the old,
the gruesome
and the dead.

I feast on alcohol
where there is no other sustenance.
The rhythm of chagrin bounces in my chest,
as a drum would beat
in a symphony of regret.  
But I strive on
as if it was a sacrifice to the holy aliens
that made the Maya sacrifice too.
This is my blood.
It gushes from my blue veins
as I apperceive the meaning of that throbbing pulse.

I know the consequence
of the truth behind our movement.

A world founded on humanity,
imperfect and failing at all.
Life in this universe must be special.
It’s the stardust in our physical,
human elements that makes this magic true.
We ooze with the likeness of nothing else.
Our ancestors welled up with stardust
and DNA from somewhere else.
Our sweat, made up of passing galaxies,
dripping tears of organic thought
into the trickling river of time.
That alone must be something
to capture an imagination.
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