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humming strings pick apart the
quiet in the night air, in a simple
and easy rhythm, shivering
through the grass in a dream,
dark at the edges, but a tune
that i remember the words to

dusk in the moonlight, cloud
cover so the comets are just
glowing streaks in the gloom,
but silhouettes on top of the
hill are looking up, missing pieces,
on a cold, windless night

one of them's singing, quiet
and warm, red nails in the soil,
other hand wrapped around a
wrist where the hand ends in
green, in shimmering strings,
trying to press down the chords

it is bitterly cold, and he can't
feel his fingers, they're dreaming
of summer and a breath of it
remains on the air, warmly
fumbling the lyrics under the
clouds, on a hill next to home

and the denim is thick and the
rhythm is less steady, but the
music continues, and a young
child looks out of her window,
and sees two angels on a
hilltop, singing to the sky

the sky, is falling down,
the stars are thin
and the song is
ending, but they
play the final
note, and
it never
Eloisa 2d
Can you take me to a special place
where the wild
becomes my blissful sky?
Only you and me,
dreaming while gliding with glee.
Help me find my lost essence,
my disoriented strength.
And marvel at the joyous,
glossy evergreens
till the darkness sets in.
Please hold my hands until my moon glows again.
Elsie Greek May 11
This news consoles
The heck of us,
In gestures strained imprints
On hearts.
They learned a daily bite
Of stats:
Us figured, scooped,
Against and fast.

Like that of spoons
Fed to the blind
By those dictators
Who still fly.
Plots hatching plots:
them aged and trite.
Like was it news to you?
Not in the slightest.
I could never finish writing off your name, with your strawberry scent vibrating towards mine and your hooded eyes that covers the wrinkles and your cheek dampens when you crook a smile, I could never stop writing you.

Maybe I was just drawing a thin line with heaven and a tightrope with my eyes close and hell bent towards the unending loophole of my forsaking fantasies, I guess I might stay here. There was something about you that I cannot forsake nor repaint with foreign colors and another texture β€” you were as a majestic being in my lucid dream.

That even though I cannot recount my fingers one or two or five or ten, I can picture the deepening hole of your dimples whenever you give the world another unbreathable cheeky beam and I sulk here, waiting for another neon glow of that majestic world in my dreamlike prophetic future.

Something told me it was you. As I bear witness another beauty in the realm of my alternative home, maybe then, peering at the sky while I was on a tightrope is worth every penny of sleep and drowsiness gulping another 90's wine.
Wrote this waaay too long ago. I just turned 21 this month. Still not fine, doing a little better, improving and growing.

Hoping for a better future. Hugs to everyone **
Mark Wanless May 7

from height a feel
onto solid water
sky of blue
I had
to write
for the one
I cherished,
If only
I had
of how  
of oneself
was not
as simple,
to paint the
of human
feeling and
thoughts in
written form
could not
be only
for they
are the
of my
in flight,
even if
the words
they remain
as the
pages are
as the  
eyes of
the one
I see
as mine,
I sat
by the
of the
the one
I loved
I ask not
when he
for the
my lips
his name,
LC Apr 30
the sun wears a cape on its shoulders
and when it fades below the horizon,
the cape cloaks the world in darkness.
the moon finds its place in the sky
to help the sun bestow its light
and guide us out of the shadows.
the stars twinkle to support the moon,
and we find the light in the darkness
until the sun returns to the sky.
Escapril Day 30! Prompt: it's getting darker.
I can't believe it's the last day of April! This challenge was so fun, and it helped me practice my writing skills. I also love seeing how other poets interpret the prompts.
I would love to do more challenges like this in the future!
Fireworks flash bright
Sky flowers blooming above
Dazzling night lights fade
High above is a world of color
π™Όπš’ πš‘πšŽπšŠπš›πš'𝚜 πš›πšŽπšœπšŽπš›πšŸπšŽπš πšπš˜πš› πšπš‘πšŠπš πšœπš˜πš–πšŽπš˜πš—πšŽ
πšœπš˜πš–πšŽπš πš‘πšŽπš›πšŽ 𝚘𝚞𝚝 πšπš‘πšŽπš›πšŽ πš πšŠπš’πšπš’πš—πš , πš πš‘πš˜'𝚜 πš‘πšŠπš™πš™πš’ πšπš˜πš› πš–πš’ πšŽπš‘πš’πšœπšπšŽπš—πšŒπšŽ..
Someone's waiting for you... someone's so happy that you are under the same sky , breathing the same air ...
hopefully to meet someday..
Allesha Eman Apr 21
Between us and this dying world
Are conversations and stuttered words
That we left in the hands of midnight breeze
I float in your laughter, too light
to be weighed down by my fears
We lay under this sea of stars
Pointing into the sky
Casting nets into this galaxy of dreams
Calloused hands caress this wind
As stories pour out of our limbs
And we wash away yesterday's storm
Waiting for the sun to rise
Basking in the terracotta sky
Asleep against the coolness of the ground
Smiles still remnant on our face
And in all this was a heavy heart
That you pulled out from my chest
Held it in your palm as you slept
And I existed in your ease
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