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T1n0 Aug 2020
I found the loneliest content person you will ever meet
A man who acknowledges perfection, but doesn’t yearn for it
A man who adores love, but only if its someone else’s
He applauds from a distance as love rains all around him
He avoids love as if it’s a cold he might catch
He hugs himself to sleep, and kisses his pillow a wonderful night
A sad tale indeed, but bliss in his own eyes
Because he tried once, and love tore him to pieces,
And he only healed, the day he fell in love with himself.
Mico Aug 2020
How much sadness

To need someone

Just to **** some presence

To eat some beauty

To fear loneliness

Is a lustful decadence

Slowly dying

In evidence
Denis Barter Aug 2020
In the forest, there’s few things I find more to please
Than to walk woodland trails, strewn with fallen leaves.
But by their rustling underfoot, they sing a sad lullaby
Which serves to remind, that autumn, in the short by and by,
Brings closure to our delights, now summer’s passed.
Though it too, as do most things in Life, will not last.

My walk under branches, when bared of all leaf cover
Allows an observant eye to search for and discover
Abandoned nests of last spring’s long flown brood,
Or a squirrel in his lofty drey. This agile and shrewd
Forest dweller, is ever prepared to take instant flight
Should an untoward move of mine, cause him fright!

Moments later a ruffed grouse takes off in panicked flight
Though its presence was sensed, I’d glimpsed no sight
Of this woodland denizen.  At home within the forest scene
It haunts the undergrowth but often goes, sight unseen!
Next a snake, sunning, poised alert, quickly slithers away
Having sensed intruders were abroad and coming his way.

Unexpectedly from overhead, staccato sounds startle me,
As a busy downy woodpecker, intrudes upon my reverie.
Whilst a roving shrew, in never ending search for tasty prey,
Snuffles through the leaves: pounces, then scampers away
Replete with a fat slug delicacy for its brood of young.
Though its actions benefit man, they frequently go unsung.

The leafy paths of forest floor are bustling alive this day
With various sights and sounds.  When time allows, it’s my way
To fill hours that all too swiftly pass. But reality encroaches
Upon my walk.  I hasten my step, for darkness approaches,
So with one last lingering look, I take my leave and steal away
Determined to visit these arboreal woods again, another day.

Rhymer.
With the virus pandemic restrictions followed faithfully by my wife and I, a small forested area close by my garden, is the perfect place for social distancing. Hence my poem.  DHB.
Sheela Aug 2020
To make my heart abode, he pulled me out of untrodden road even before the world was made!…..


She activated spirituality in and over her life to brood
And wished to work on plans and purposes of God, holding her solitude….

Rise up and Form an Unshakable attitude that God mirrors through you, where unwavering confidence would gather too!


Prayer needs to be constant, force yourself to wake from what’s stagnant…. As on earth my assignments demand accomplishment, helps me stand independent

I choose to live and dwell in his purpose,
For my breath is his purchase…O his love is reckless and his gifts are countless

Do not sit in shame….quench your earthly flame…for his love fights till you’re found leaves the ninety nine and delivers all your needs just in time…..just in time…
Empire Aug 2020
I fall into this place in my head
Eyes closed softly
Letting the world go black
There’s a tightness in my chest
Wrapped around a throbbing pain
My head starts to ache
My entire body crying out for touch
To just be held for a while
I’ll pretend I’m not alone
Just to cope
But I know I lie in solitude
I know there is no one to embrace me
There’s no comfort to come to me
I’m just not enough
I know that...
I really do know...
But it doesn’t mean I can survive alone
It doesn’t mean the darkness will not take me
Chris Saitta Aug 2020
These clouds of Italy are grown on vines,
Infidels of skies, fruit bearers of wine-veined
Marble, fertile in spite of its own lifeless tableau,
Here thrives the succulent garden of the alone,
Where turns aside the burnt nape of the plowman,
Voyager of the cool midnight seas of the mind,
Up to this arable vine of sighs from outworn gods,
And hears his heart once more give up its throne.
Daisy Hemlock Aug 2020
I wish I could be the right thing

For the right person

But I'm the wrong thing for everyone

And everyone's wrong for me
Jordan Gee Aug 2020
on the day of the double funeral I stand
waiting for the rest of me to die,
I am that I am but I harbor a bad disease.
i should be anywhere and be doing anything other
than what i am.
because before Abraham was i am
standing in the empty quarter
reading a funeral manual on the
day of the double sky burial.
i’m poisoned off my pouch of yesterday’s mana.
gums are bleeding this is yesterday’s daily bread.
men cannot live off bread alone
and the jackrabbit horde is coming home
our own locust plague for a new Sahara.
i stand with a hangman’s fracture
lost on the old sermons in the sand.
following my family’s footsteps sadly in the wrong direction,
lost among the marking rocks.
snow leopards of the black blizzard and
my poison pouch of mana.
drowning in the fires we cook a stray dog
reaping all the whirlwinds I sound a 12 foot Tibetan horn
on the day of a double funeral -
perched in the dwelling of the solitude.
#skyBurial
PATROCLUS Aug 2020
A monochromatic gloom envelopes the night of an idle town
Whilst, the people remain unconscious on this deceptive verity.
Isn't anyone alarmed about the forlorn that surrounds?
Perhaps, no one dares to inspect its perfect illusion.

The town governs with ardent perturbation and perplexity
With the regressive taxation, Gehenna reigns overall still.
Had one done enough, it continued hitherto.
Such a waste exhaustion in the plague's eye of temerity.

Turmoil is an eternal damnation; a life obliteration!
Ere is not in any alike. How come it has become?
Hardly, no person with a typical savoir-faire could learn its commencement.
Until tomorrow hops up to shower her ambrosial light.
However, when?

Dawn is about to rule in this exact coordinates in hours away
My state is being held up notwithstanding to the ridicule
Aid is where when the illusion daunts, suffocates, and drowns forward.
Could I expect thy glamour only to retreat me?
If not later, when?
No one knows how I needed care. I am this lonely, inactive town.
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