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Debbie 7h
Rain oozed down the windshield.
Like ants, people scampering about
their unexamined lives, dodging raindrops.
The sky and her liquid laugh.
Earth's in charge here,
although some ego's would beg to differ.
Rain is not selective,
it pours down on the lives of everyone,
regardless of your status.
Whenever and wherever it wants.
Leaving puddles of its existence.
So go get wet.
Get soaked.
Feel alive.
The inventor of the umbrella,
never felt free inside.
We are children of stars, all of us each,
if you look way back far beyond memory's reach.
Past fire and lightning, spirit and beast,
our atoms return, and stars we complete.
This is a small section from one of my favourite poems I wrote, called Ozone. I'm posting this as an experiment, as I'm noticing the shortest poems get significantly more attention and engagement than ones over roughly 60 words or so.

It's interesting thinking about the parallels between social media and this website. I came here thinking engagement would be more evenly spread, however it seems there are very dominant trends; poems about love and sorrow seem more popular. Anything taking more than 15 seconds to digest seems to engage fewer people. Poems that people can comment on and share relatable experiences seem to do much better, while those sharing less common perspectives seem to more often go unnoticed.

Still, I shall press on! Lack of popularity is no more a sign of inadequacy than being willing to easily give up on something. I'm enjoying writing and sharing my poems for now.
i went to the terrace today, like always,
where silence drapes the evening in gold.
but today, the sky was different.
hollow blue, fading grey.

no pinks, no purples, no warmth in the light,
just a thin orange thread barely holding on.
the air felt heavy, everything stood still,
and in that pause, something pulled.

something i had buried, but never killed.
i wasn't searching, i wasn't calling,
yet it came.
familiar, sudden, true.

the love i once belonged to.
and then it hit me like a bullet,
like a name i swore not to say.

i wasn’t mourning the ending, nor the ashes
but the man who had faded away.

i fell.
dust clung to my hands, my knees.
but nothing felt real
except bleeding for a ghost i swore i had left.

i swore i had buried this sorrow deep,
i swore he was gone, cold and dead.
yet here i was,
breaking for someone long since fled.

the sky turned black.
silent & vast.
the orange line flickered, then disappeared.
and for a second, i thought this was it,
this was all that remained.

but then
a star.
then another.
then another still.

the same sky that swallowed me whole
was now stitched back with a soft light.
the grief remained, but so did something else,
something small, something bright.

perhaps the sun won’t rise the same,
perhaps the dead will always call.
but maybe, just maybe,
i’ve learned to hear them
without letting them take me, too.

maybe i am not mourning anymore.
just remembering.
without breaking.

and maybe, just maybe
not everything fades.
some things just change their light
to stay.
kris 6d
They fly in groups in the sky above,
Filling the air with God's love.
Flapping their wings with joy in their hearts,
That's how the sky reveals God's art.
Arii Mar 27
I wander across a silent land
As a miserably lonely man
Following the call of
An early morning bird

With nothing in my head,
And nothing in my hands

The bird, in all its morning cheer
Chirps and trills for all to hear
It sings even though there is no crowd,
Its song is as magnificent as it is loud

It holds its head up, proud and high,
It looks up daringly at the sky,
Like the clouds are challenging it
To fly

It leaves the branch it rested on
Wings spreading as it took off
And I still remain a lonely wight,
But maybe I, too, can take flight.
How does it feel when the moon is all alone in the night sky?
Even though it has its stars,
Thinking that it has no one,
It goes through its phases all alone.

Doesn't it feel lonely?
But I'm the star who's about to fall, and I still fill the space of the Moon's loneliness.

But when I fall, even my moon forgets my existence.
I'll have no one but me.
I was the one who was the Moon's companion, wasn't I? I guess I was.

I'm nothing but a falling star, and I'm nothing compared to the moon, who's admired every day by many.

They also make a wish when I fall, but I wish I had a chance to fulfill my own wish: to be with my moon.
greatsloth Mar 22
A flower does not seek why it bloomed
Nor does it ask why its petals are blue;
Time under the clear sky is alive,
Weathering storms can mean something
Though they're all likely nothing
To the aster who doesn't have a midlife.
souletry Mar 21
I can say I've touched the sun.
The radiation was nothing compared to my salvation.
The sensations welcomed me home.
A place beyond time, beyond one's mind.
I lived what past versions of me never dared
and lost it all in a instant.
So to now stand in the silence of what once burned bright.
I become a fleeting spark, what was once our light.
I chase the whispers of the sun.
Hoping to undo what's already done.
Yearning for the sky to cradle my heart once more
but I am grounded to dirt and grass.
Like a bird, I used to be one with the sky.
I've hit the window too many times.
You clipped my wings.
Why do you still expect me to fly?
Do I keep reaching for what can’t be found,
Or surrender to the weight of the earth beneath the ground?
Am I meant to rise again, to heal, to soar,
Or remain rooted, in the place I implore?
well that hurt lol
Arii Mar 19
I
can’t
Tell.  if
The      sky
Above       Is real

Or not          Quite there

Quite near                            Enough
To hold                                                   The stars
In the                                                                             Palm of
My hand                                                                                         And be
So glad                                                                         That I
Can see                                             The light
That shines         All through

The night.       Will it

Go out? Will it?

Will      it?

Go
out?
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