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Parker Vance Feb 22
I wish I bled messy, black ink
to spill on your computer-coded fingers,
to blot out your terabyte blue eyes
from looking down at me.

I don't know differential calculus
and your ribs are engraved with unknowable equations
unsolvable to me, though I hear them
whispering to your heart in the quiet mornings.

I wish I understood the sighs
that fall from your logarithmic lungs
as they labor so intensely
to inflate your data ridden body.

Beryllium, Lithium, Nitrogen, Carbon
spill out of you like names of lost lovers
but they never sound so entrancing
on my own poetry-stained lips.

So while you chant them like worship
I'll be searching for divinity in those no-use words:
Incendiary, Ventricles, Ancillary, Phantasmagoria.
They fall from my mouth easier than even your name.

The deepness in your voice echoes outer space
Both vast and complicated
cold and distant
deep and so, so far away.

I can't touch you.
golden leaf streamers
cascaded o'er the aspen's
tall majestic stem
Yamuna Turco Feb 2020
I wish
I wish I liked STEM
I perpetuate the stereotype,
women studying English,
and art,
and languages

My love of the arts,
and the humanities,
Is regressing women's history

But it is my right
My right to study art,
and languages,
and theatre

Women's empowerment
And fight for equality,
is so I can study humanities,
and Tiera Fletcher could study rocket science
Nik Bland Dec 2019
My head is filled to the brim
Packed brainstems
Maybe that’s why I take you straight to heart
Truths whispered and held in cupped hands
Like butterflies, then released
See where they land and the clarity they impart
You words are vast galaxies
Mystical, colorful imagery
Like melted crayons pouring from the fount of your mouth
Dripping into molds making wax elephants
Heavy words trumpeting sentiments
That I may never ever truly figure out
Eyes that speak paragraphs upon chapters upon volumes
Upon libraries
And I am only a syllable in the commentary
Fill the empty crevices of a heart once on fire
Long since expired
And give this charred thing new life, incendiary
Make this full mind empty every bit but you
Clear the queue
So I might feast on more than these offerings of crumbs
Minds will always be filled and filling
And full
But the the choice of what’s ingested is the rule of thumb

Wonder-filled
I don’t think I’ve written a poem that has stimulated my brain so much. This has my head spinning a bit. Hope you enjoy...
Sabila Siddiqui Jul 2019
She gave away the petals of love,
leaving the thorny stems behind.
m h John Mar 2019
the last time i saw you
your favorite colors
surrounded your body
like petals
throw across the floor
at the center of it
lies you
all i could do was hold you
like the stem of rose
trying to reattach those petals
to a flower that was once whole
Katie Miller Jan 2019
Twist the stem
And I was scared
As I got close to your name
It landed on just that one letter
That you write on every paper
And letter and note
Because you were the letter of my apple stem

I was told when I was younger
“Twist a stem, that person will love you”
But now I realize that if you plant a stem
Nothing will grow from it but hope
A twisted stem detached from the apple
Means nothing but the fact
That I love you

I thought that I could love you
If my red apple told me so
And I was right because I really do love you
I eat apples until I’m sick and can’t stomach the thought of anymore
But that means nothing with a twisted branch
And all that’s left
Is a broken apple stem
When I was younger, I was told that if you hold an apple and twist the stem while saying the alphabet, whichever letter the stem broke on would be your next true love. I was doing this with a friend today (even though we're almost 16) and I realized how silly it was for the thousandth time. I knew it was stupid and ridiculous, but I kept doing it, simply because of hope.
Poetic T Jun 2018
Thy crows loiter on mornings
fever, blossom brightening to
thee. But when  petals awaken,
onyx lullabies tear each asunder.

Woeful of the beauty of years,
            thy fallen moments collect
like tattered curtains of life.
   Crows sing sirens of despair,
joyful of the passing beauty..

And still they look upon thee,
        no longer petals of years stand.
they wait till your stem of life wilts.
With but a moment of silence when all
has fallen, they bow, wings dispersing life.
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