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hazem al jaber Aug 2021
Stunning gem ...

so deep sweetheart ..
you are ...
as the depths of an ocean...
not yet discovered...
despite of everyone  ...
who dived into you...
came back ...
with an empty-handed ...
except me ..
Because ...
it's me only ...
who lived the depth of you ...
within ever words ...
you wrote ...
while no one ...
ever do ...
because ...
i get you always ...
into my dreams ...

so deep you are ...
my sweet angel ...
there ...
into my ocean's dream ...
where you are ...
the only lover ...
whom share me ...
this love ...
that i only feel with you ...
and no one ...
feel ...
like i do ...

so deep you ...
as a stunning gem ...

hazem al ..
Rock collecting
Bug inspecting
Dance and music
Voice inflecting

In our wide space
Carve out your place
Let your heart sing
Do your own thing

Mountain running
Backyard sunning
Choose what you love
Make it stunning

In our wide space
Carve out your place
Let your heart sing
Do your own thing

Hatchet throwing
Garden growing
Keep on thriving
Never slowing

In our wide space
Carve out your place
Let your heart sing
Do your own thing
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We live in a big world, and there is lots to do!  I find it fascinating when I discover some new sport or hobby that I've never heard of - and then find there are thousands or even millions of people involved.  It may not be my particular thing, yet there are groups, newsletters, meet ups, and a whole world that revolves around that activity.
I enjoy mountain running and rock collecting and family history, but not everybody does.  The variety in the world makes it fun.  So do your own thing!
Wilder Aug 2020
Tell me your secrets
Don't worry, I'll keep it
After all, I've managed to keep my own

Boys are noticing me
Could a girl maybe notice me

Yes I know I'm pretty
(I'm gorgeous actually) No,
My shirt doesn't give you permission
To stare at my hips

Wish she
Would cover up

Get your eyes off my face
Get out go away

A modern

- call me a ****
I dare you

Give me a crop top
Clean eyeliner
This is only to prove
None of you deserve me

Call this an exaggeration
Complete exploitation
A collection of not-quites
Piled into a finished

So I'm sorry for trying
To fix in the bubble
It wasn't a bubble
But a box

Don't tell me you love me
You can't possibly love me
You don't even know me
I'm just a face for
Your ideals

I don't agree with you
"We're still friends after this,
Gods no

Does God know

How you hate his creation

"Yes, of course we are!"

Bite your tongue
You don't have time
To drop these people in
Your past

Keep friends close
Keep others closer
Wait until you're older

Can I possibly wait any
Anyway. This is a complete disaster
(I'm starting to notice a pattern, poems about girls are short and sweet, poems about boys are messy, incoherent and inconsistent)
Also the title is supposed to be a play on "boys will be boys" but it's kinda subtle idk how I feel about it yet.
Nat Lipstadt Jun 2020
For Marshall Gebbie

in June, with sun dispatched to somewhere else,
a steaming mug, adds to the clouds of gloom but,
dissipates the summer chill, that seems colder than its
winter chill counterpart, since it is contraindicated,
here, where, it’s summer and everybody’s inside, hiding,
for all the irrational reasons, the news, reports so earnestly

you send me a poem of incautious beauty, of a moment re-warmed,
desire, recalled, rekindling a past so well remembered that it edges
me off that chill, and I wonder how timing is in always everything,
the rear view mirror concept somehow a predictive tool,
cause we never saw it all, but just right, plenty enough, and
when old men muse, the risk of self- ruse is always lurking about

remembering how it was, how we wanted it to be, how we’re
sure that we too were there, or at least near, almost certainly,
was it a thousand poems ago, or B.P, (before poetry), when
actions were louder, preferable to words, life, charging neurons,
by the billions, so we have those storages, celled memories,
so that the poems of then, come back so easily, framed in our memory,

in the glorious, stunning heated colorings of pleasure

June 5,
Shelter Island
Michael Demian Feb 2020
She is as beautiful as sunrise.
He is as beautiful as sunset.
Two stunning people with shining eyes,
They are so happy that they have met.

She is as beautiful as the moon.
He is as beautiful as the sun.
Their love is playing a splendid tune
That can be pleasant to everyone.

She is as beautiful as the sky.
He is as beautiful as a sea.
I hope their feelings will never die
I hope together they'll always be.
Anastasia Jan 2020
You are...
Every single thing about you
Bhill Sep 2019
Are you out there waiting
Waiting for the one chance
The one and only chance to see
To see the most stunning sensation
To see the rising of a fresh new day
A new day filled with fascinating new experiences
Experiences so unique and seldom beheld

Wait, there it is...

Brian Hill - 2019 # 237
Wait and see it for yourself...
Mystic Ink Plus May 2019
That eyes
That promising eyes

To live/die for
Genre: Romantic
Theme: Stunning
Leila Valencia Apr 2019
I turn my head to the most beautiful sight of all - the sapphire, green-brown, grey ocean.
(Breath In)

The thick blue ocean that rolls, churns, and glistens.
And the glisten slices, the glistening currents. The ripples that move the ripples that have no ending or beginning.
(Breathe Out)

Every shape, form, and structure captured in the liquid.
It smooths out.
It rounds out.
It rolls out, it crashes down.
It’s smooth clarity. It’s smoothness it beyond me.

Its beauty is truly found within its movement. It’s constant change, exchange between all forms;
Connections throughout,
Different experiences of the same object throughout,
And out and out.

I see this giant blue gulp, of sea of truly magnificent bodies of water held in a single space.

As I see the land overturn over:
In new shapes, colors, lengths, and everything that contrasts one thing to another

I just see so much brightness, dimness, and something that overturns into another.
I can not believe this sea
How it makes that sound

And when nothing is around
It just profound,

How every jewel of the dancing ocean
is a collection of drops
connecting forms throughout

When I feel the truth of this beauty
I see,

the ocean, something I never created
It was there to touch us
To hold us
This ocean was made to believe in us.

Without realizing it I just fell into a deep sleep.
I fell into something so deep.
I felt the ocean's arms
embracing me
I love the ocean. This is my ode to the ocean
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