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neo Jul 7
she stands there,
wind through her hair,
dazed and unaware,
numb and hopeless,
a broken goddess.

she stands there
waiting for time
to fade her away
into the dark, cold night.
Within the mighty depths of hell
a hopeful strength emerged.

A chick is hatched, unprepared, gone.

But soon this demon died and fell
for Death fulfilled an urge.

Dust from dried-up reservoirs swamp
the morning. Sweat sticks to thin clothes.

And from her ashes rose a scorn,
a surge of wrath, as they do tell.

Hats and fans wave in cadence on
the porch. Mosquitos and flies on
sunburnt skin are swat from existence.

Hearts were crossed, souls were torn;
flooded by a sea of her love.

An ashen cloud submerges the
forest. The withered, dew-frosted
blood-red leaves drift off, joining the
arrangement on the soil. Clear
water streams by to the high tide.

By Aleksander Mielnikow (Alek the Poet)
This poem is a bargain! Can you figure out why?
It is quiet in the dark
the winter air settles,
stagnant on the glass,
before the sun can thaw the sleeping dew

Striped wool hats and cracked leather gloves
emerge from the closet
to join a hopeless war.
They shamble,
illuminated by the high rise windows
dotting through the fog,
towards the front lines.
Catching the warmth from their breath

And for a split second,
just before it flits away,
they are dragons
#1 in my Year One collection, from notes on 10/29
blackbiird Apr 2

girl meets boy
girl falls in love with boy.
boy promises to love girl forever.
boy breaks up with girl.
girl cries over boy.
boy moves on. '

my love life summed up.
Erian Mar 16
In the kinder glow
our eyes meet
flashing like a castle
lost in the snow

The sky illuminating in blazing blues
and solemn reds
but even in the dark of night
a light is shed

In the dawn of morning
kingdoms will grow
blooming, blooming
from the castle below
Do you remember the night I came
down, and you were sitting on the
windowsill? One leg up and the
other left hanging, in one of your
white oversized shirts and your
hot-pink pajama pants. Outside
the snow fell like feathers, blue
in the moonlight and black in the
shadows, with a tinge of orange
from that annoying nearby streetlight.

You looked at me, saw me in my
blue boxer briefs and teal t-shirt,
and you didn’t say a word, and
neither did I. Neither of us had
to. I sat down beside you, a mirror
image, and we stared with deafening
expressions. The snow piled on
like feathers strewn across the
room of two lovers too happy to
control themselves. I looked into
the darkness, and you glanced at
the orange sun tainting the solemn
blue hue. And then you turned away,
walked away. I stayed, watching
the snow fall in the dark.

by Aleksander Mielnikow
'Ello ya'll! So, I'm usually too busy stroking other things to stroke my own narcissism, but I just want to say that, if I take my ego out of the equation and judge this poem dissociatively, I believe it is the best poem I have written. I wrote it with the intent of there being a deeper meaning behind it. But since I've written it, I keep thinking of different ways you readers would interpret the bits and pieces, and I keep coming up with countless different ideas between the images and details and the relationship. It's honestly freaking me out. But aside from my obvious boasting, I would encourage you other poets and writers to read back on your own works and try doing the same thing. Put yourself in someone else's shoes and see if your bits and pieces can be interpreted in a different light than you initially intended. You might be pleasantly surprised that one of your works is more complex than you thought possible, and you can use what you learn from that odd experience in future works. Anyways, I hope my shameless self-promotion isn't too intrusive in my bigger message/advice, and in the end I just hope you read and enjoy. Ciao!
taylor holmes Feb 21
her face growing more red with the fever of fear and the after thoughts
of a motivational heart.
for the crickets are venturing to sing
only a solemn view.
in a liquid splendor, you dunk your head with a
farewell goodbye as your mind regresses.
in a house of reason, he will choose to neglect me. as for his thoughts they remain, his feelings will not be felt.
a new found solace in this empty place, as my mind becomes my own antagonist.
to yield a timid longing while time does keep whispering, we gently stole from curious eyes
to escape our own.
a stain where she use to lay, a bruised patch of her panicked eyes. where white chalk was put around just measures the
distance between us now. as you stare in seduction and endure her carved words, mindfulness moves to fast at this world.
with elusive hands i embrace in an empty room with a plastic pin point.
now with your hollowed touch, you turn everything to white noise with a static urge.
yet the buildings became a blur as i stared through your moms car door window, with a flashback of music and watery thoughts.
(11:28 pm)
Heavy Hearted Dec 2018
An outlet of articulates, is this solemn, surreal site.
Many minds, and many more, shall glow beneath its light.
Yet sadly for myself I've found, the holes within it all,
and now no longer does my heart, answer to its call.

Goodbye poetry, and thank you always; you deserve all you achieve-

Thank you for giving us a place
to share what we believe.

I will say hello to you, and glow with all again someday,
But for now I say goodbye- as I go on my own way.
Adam Kinsley Sep 2018
I forged my dreams in the mire of regret
The past had not passed me for long
The angel of Death awaits my plea of ignorance
While the sands of time bury my aspiration

I acknowledge my mistakes
Yet, do not learn from them--
Walking backward with Epimetheus off the cliff
My disdain surmounts my discerning heart's integrity

Between me, myself, and I
We produce the same Lie
Gouging out my eyes to spite my mind
I am solely affixed to its lack of fervor

My descent into dissent imprisons me
This island is no longer a paradise
I cannot run from my own mind
But, I can turn down the volume, just for tonight...
This poem is about not learning from your mistakes. I use Epimethius as a metaphor, because, in Greek mythology Epimethius
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