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Daniel Ruiz Nov 2018
The color of her dress that blossomed in the middle
of every other person there,
the same color of her lips,
that without being hesitant,
crawl their way,
trying to find mine,
And with luck on our side,
they do.

Time and time again,
they seem to find mine,
without much effort,
is it because im not apart for too long?
i don't think i can be mentally apart from her,
and her intensive beauty,
that leaves me speechless doesn't matter how many times
i see her without that crimson dress,
that still isn't out shined by her blushing cheeks,
when i tell her i love her.

I love her,
even if some times i'm not supposed to,
but that's the fun of it.

also,
isn't it interesting,
that cherries come in pairs?
Yusof Asnan May 2018
You wondered why
you keep finding
broken angels
everywhere.
All so scarred
and yet deserved
to be loved.
But they keep
putting walls so
high to prevent
people hurting
them.
You forgot, they
weren't supposed
to be down here
in the first
place.


-HIY
haysia Jun 2016
To have a family
is like to
"Feel like home"
BUT
sensation's irate
Eleanor Rigby Jul 2015
They say that we're all just halves
Of what we are supposed to be...
But tonight, I am whole.


-- Eleanor
You think because your skin is wrinkle and blemish free
you have achieved a great feat of life

being thirty
or forty
or fifty-three
looking 23 ***

The last book you read
was only done so that you can name
the last book you read

Your soul is as paper thin
as is your skin

hold on
yes
your shell, vehicle, vessel
and its drapings, anointings, adornings
are very beautiful

you do know that
none of that at all
is actually you

your body fat percentage and credit score
is as important to you
as the birth of your children
as the day of your first wedding
as the day of your second divorce

hold on
yes I'm calling you shallow

hold on
no I'm not saying that I'm better

I will say at least
what I do
I do because it has a purpose
I do because it has a meaning

I know that lives are more important than taxes and their brackets
I know that you do not stay
just because of what others might say if you go

What you do is because. . .
What you believe is because. . .
Right down to the very words you choose

why do you do anything that you do

that’s right
go ahead and say it

© Christopher F. Brown 2015
Josie Patterson Dec 2014
i am captivated
by the fluidity of your text message
you claim you arent a poet
but wow
how you can use 140 characters
to put words out of my mouth
evolving silence from stunned emotions
fantasies flit and twitter
sparked by your wit
the eminent feeling of loss when they fade
out of the temporary reality of my neocortex
and my thalimus
away into the sharpening atmosphere
my discombobulated desires
each begging for my undivided attention
in this sleepy realm of imagination
i contemplate your construction
a worthy demonstration of your capacity to hold
my mind
my eyes
my body
you are great, large, spirited
and your spirit consumes and overflows
my selfish desire to swallow you whole
until you spill out of my ears like maple syrup
sweet and sticky
and then i can have you all to myself
but that isnt fair
to the world
and the good you do it
you have taught me restraint
in my inability to think of anything but you
coupled with my inability to be with you
you manage to intrude into my every thought
conversation
my very being
with magic
your resplendent mind staining my arms
the overly colourful shadow that creeps along my spine
i feel a spectrum of colour
flickering along my horizon
crawling down my thigh like a silk scarf
i am consumed
by your light
crackling and growing
sparking and fizzling
fuelled by my tinder
my eyes swivel and squint
trying to see you through the bright mass you are surrounded by
and i catch a sigh
escape my lips
falling to you
from this new plane of existence you lifted me to
and here there is a woodstove
and a mass of cotton blankets
with a divot in the middle
begging to be filled
and you are there
my hand eases my descent into your warm chest
feet lifted
head filling the gap between your shoulder and your neck
and i rest my hand on yours
you gently sweep your fingertips along the top of my thigh
and you hold my other hand
in life there are times and places
abundant
that we find ourselves falling into
relationships
feelings
people
and so rarely
do we feel like we are made to be there
but here
darling
is where i am supposed to be
Lixian Ng Apr 2014
These poems ****,
I tell myself.
I follow a formula,
But it comes out tight.
I do it on my own,
It sounds too loose.
It’s loose in a sense,
That it came right from my flow of thoughts.
Off balance and perhaps preachy.
Maybe even redundant and bland.
Did that really come from me?
Where is this coming from?
WHO AM I!?
HOLY CHRISTMAS TREE!
Those words that I typed on my iTouch,
At midnight before a day of classes.
Please, just go to sleep already,
Jesus freaking Christ sitting with the Buddha in heaven,
GO TO SLEEP.
hushhush Oct 2013
Someone has made my bed differently today,
For the covers are brown and rough,
I can't be certain who it was
that tucked it in so tightly at the sides,
(I always hated that...)
So constricting;
I cannot move.
Such discomfort.
It's almost as if I am trapped in some form of elaborate prison.

I really cannot bear this cover;
For it hardly keeps me warm at all.
So cold, so scratchy,
I feel frozen so that I cannot stir,
My skin, like ice.

And yet...
I rest so peacefully.
Lyingunder.

— The End —