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Shofi Ahmed Aug 2022
Keeping a bit private
after the night
the sun goes all out.
Over the painted rose
and through the shady clouds.

East west north and south
at the end of the day always returns
the twilight could never forget  
a lurking little mole
the sun's missing beauty spot!

The ambling twilight goes deep
it isn't all black
a full moon shines on her brow
neither the night is pitch dark
down the mountains of floating stars.

Tomorrow again yet in the broad daylight
the sun will tuck into a throw of twilight
something is still private a black mole in the light.
I see you
you see others

I am an address
not on your list

I, silent
you, short on attention

I, understated elegance
you seek the crumpled and crumbled

I, content
you, bored

I, ever present
but for you always a blind spot
This poem is from my book of poems - Vendor of Poems available on Amazon and Kindle
Ken Pepiton Jul 2021
The stones in the stream now,
we are not water,
we are not clouds,
we are like

minded men, wombed and un
running rock to rock
laughing and laughing and laughing

until nothing hurts.
Nothing hurts
the stones in the stream now.
Good morning, bit by bit, this is the next day... following the stream
Leone Lamp May 2021
I like to sit and think and stare
At that spot, on the wall over there
As I listen to the pitter-patter
And wonder if anything really matters?
Fancy a game of shoots and ladders?
Up and at them, let's get at 'er.
When the going gets slow, the slow turns into prose. Up and at them!

Leone Lamp Apr 2021
I've got a spot,
out there in the yard
It can sit, it can stay
But playing fetch is hard

I've got a spot,
where I like to spend my days
It takes naps in the sunshine
and together we laze

I've got a spot,
it can't run, it can't jog
But it's a very good spot
I think I'll call it Dog.
Dog is great and all, but someday, maybe we'll have a real Spot. And we can take it for walks, and play lots of games. In the meantime I'll have to live vicariously through others. So please post more poems about your goofy, fluffy, adorable or grumpy puppies. <3
Amanda Kay Burke Jan 2021
I sit to write this poem and what do I see?
The paper holds a spot of blood
Better inspiration there couldn't possibly be
More accurate metaphor for who I've become

I remember how the planet buzzed when I felt alive
Wrote fun about simpler subjects
Now notebook is the only safe space to confide
Slew of hidden horrors

I remember each
"what if"
I let slip away
I'm feeling low
Their ghosts drop by
Taunting with foggy images of wasted yesterdays
Thrown away to get high

My back pressed against a wall
Words I hate to admit are true
Guess I was wrong after all
Said people don't change but they do
Just sometimes not for the better
Amanda Kay Burke Dec 2020
Do I still take your breath away or has that power expired?
Leave me to my own devices because I’m growing tired
And for a little while you lead me to believe you’re done
Until the moment I start losing interest in which direction your feet run
And I say I no longer care but we both know it isn’t true
Honestly I do not give a ****...
About anything except you
The only thing ricocheting against my set of bones
Is your name bouncing like drumsticks on xylophones
For once I get to perform our song
Music to my lonely ears
Skeleton an instrument producing every note brain hears
Have my mutilated perception record melody
When finished play it over so I can sing off-key
And leave on your doorstep to remind you of what we had
When I am done realize I still feel just as sad
And screams bottled up press on the walls of my insides
Threatening to expose the place heartache hides
Slide shapeless secrets even deeper down the *****
Drowning damaged moments in a mess of distraction and dope
I count numbers to ground racing thoughts
Break the anxious flow in a failed attempt to untangle mental knots
I will go to extreme lengths to relieve madness in my mind
Waiting for comfort desperately needed but can never seem to find
And my own flesh torments with mocking memories
Using tattooed ink for leverage to ridicule and tease
A traitor amongst body parts equally writhing in despair
Breath inhaling solitude coursing through the stagnant air
Lifeless eyes exhausted from overwhelming cruelty they view
You put up careful facades but ******* is easy to see through
X-rays of faithful adoration reveal commitment a disguise
Well-rehearsed remorse when stripped is nothing more than lies
And crumpled promises fill the trash can with empty words you said
Same old disappointment cuts
Blood staining hands bright red
Stomach full of excuses violently crammed down my throat
Those plus dead butterflies swell causing my tummy to bloat
My heart now lies in throbbing pieces scattered across bottom of my soul
In the exact spot you used to reside within my chest is now an unfathomable hole
This one needed to get out of my broken *** heart
Poetic T Nov 2020
There was once a spot,
some would say he was charcoal
others would say it's got to be coal.
then you would have the, no its dark grey.

But we'll let you decide that for now.

The spot was on the page all alone,
   he filled up quite a portion of the page.
But it's not fun being alone, so he thought
instead of a spot ill become many dots.

So slowly what was one became two, three
smaller and smaller did spot become.
After quite a time, the spot was no more but
dots sprinkled over the page, they all looked
at each other the many but still alone.

So they decided to connect slowly the large dots
shrank as they lined from one to 100.
It took a while but now they were connected.
still their individual selves but now not alone.

But the funny thing is, that when we connect
things, we see more than before.
They didn't realize that from a spot to a dot
then united. They Painted a picture, you
may ask of what could a giant spot becomes.

Well ill tell you, it had a waggy tail, four legs,
and one of the cutest barks. He ran around
the page, some dots shock loose.
landing in the middle spread out but
close enough not to be alone.

They wondered for a while what they were till
they went "Woof, Oh my gosh were a dog,
a puppy to be exact. And with that they came
up with a name, they did a vote that was only fair.
All wanted one, but you have one always
                             wanting something esle.

Well the vote was in the many had thought and
pondered, now they knew who they were going to be.
Drum roll please....
      Rat-a-tat rat-a-tat ratta-tatta-tat-tat.
And there name was to be Spot the dog,
   except the one on our ear.

He shall be known as bob.

After he had a zoomy, scuffing the edges of the
page, he settled down, ok after he'd chased his
tail just this once more.

So the story goes from one to the many,
to be more than they'd ever wished before.
We have Spot the dog and Bob the spot.
    And if your careful and don't make a sound.
You can peek through the door and see spot
running around the page, chasing his tail
and barking in the excitement that he's now more.
Shofi Ahmed Jul 2020
The black swan smoldering in deep shade
vanishes in the sunset pond
sticking the discovery beauty spot
on the face of the moon!
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