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Jeremy Betts May 1
If I'm able
I'll cheer you on
If I'm capable
I'll clap for however long
If you need just a little
I'll whisper you a song
I'll crack a funny riddle
Just to hear you laugh along
I care so very little of the battle
You're right, I'm wrong
Don't be bashful
The night is long
Perfect days are doubtful
But we'll never doubt where we belong

Malia Apr 1
I lean into you
Just a little bit
To see if I can whisper
Without words,
Say it
Without a single utterance.

I do not think
That you got the message.

I do not blame you.

I can hardly crack the code, myself.
Ander Stone Feb 20
I've such a secret
to share
with you,
yet all I can do
is whisper.

In such a cacophonous world,
my whispers are
no longer melodies,
but the tapping of
ant feet in a field of green,
under the twisted steel
of man-made birds.

I've such a secret,
but no one
to listen
to me
whisper it.
Solaces Feb 1
(Is there an emotion for mystical? I suppose it would be to be mystified. Perhaps awe is the word I am looking for.  I was in awe at the sight of him! I was beyond mystified!)

It started in the Yellow Wastelands.  Where life went to die.  As life dies there, they become a part of the Yellow Wasteland adding to his spread and growth becoming a sort of crystalline lattice.  All go willingly to the crystalline whisper. The whisper in recent theory emanates from the shining yellow crystals that grow among the Yellow Wasteland like blue bonnets in the Texas spring.  Once the Whisper is heard the victim willingly partakes in what we call The March. The March is a mindless saunter to The Yellow Wasteland where upon arrival they lay in the yellow dirt and slowly begin crystalizing. We have tried stopping The March. But have been unsuccessful for many years.  During the state of the march the victim gains a strange, extraordinary ability to control others as they see fit. If one or a group of people, try and prevent the march they will be controlled by the whisper to put the victim back on track.  The final equation that we cannot solve is why one hears the whisper.  There seems to be no pattern whatsoever.

On this day my daughter heard the whisper. We walked with her for hours on end.  My wife and son followed shortly behind whilst I walked beside her talking about memories and music.  My son then caught up and started to play his lute. He played song after song and sang beautiful lyrics that they wrote together.  My wife would then catch up to fix our daughters hair and clean her face as we walked and walked toward The Yellow Wasteland.  There were times where we would walk all together in a line and pray and pray.  

Over the Wolf's crossing trail was a hill. The hill was now called.
" The Last Ascend."    The Yellow Wasteland can be seen below.  We started the ascend up the last ascend.  Tears flooded all our eyes as we were powerless to stop The March.
Toward oblivion.
Jeremy Betts Dec 2023
I think I'm startin' to get that feelin' again
That sinkin' sensation followed by intense anticipation of the end I feel I'm facin'
The hell my life is based in
Then I meet up with my fear of drownin'
Thoughts not safe havin' come crashin' in
Will I ever learn or is this far beyond teachin' a lesson
Up against my dark passenger, the undisputed, heavyweight champion
And the challenger, in the blue corner noticably panickin'
Just some guy with a crazy look in his eye but no business challengin' his demon
My Hyde side stays undefeated while I've never recorded a win
Bringin' my mental discipline into question
Knowin' my armor's thin
Knowin' I've already taken one to many to the chin
It's  constant whisperin' drowns out everythin'
Top tier manipulation allowin' the interjection of it's own spin
On this tailspin my doomed zeppelin always finds itself in
I feel like I should mention, it's not one, it's Legion
Not a friend, it laid claim and became kingpin
I could only watch like I was fifth in a five deep bullpen
No consent given, not even a conversation
Rushed past me like I was a doorman at a Motor Inn
And I stood there silent, broken, incapable of motion
Often thoughts and feelings are left unspoken
Paralyzed with fear, just standin' here like a dollar store mannikin
Behind a display of 151 and Heineken
Made it easy for it to find it's way up under my skin
I hardly even knew what was happenin'
Now I don't know where it ends and I begin
Not sure there's any separation

hyun Oct 2023
when the sand fills,
and the hands of time
caresses you into submission,
freedom feels a little too
overrated a concept.

we are puppets
dangling at the side
of a building, waiting to
be taken off the clothesline
or by the wind—
both of which we know
we'd gladly take just
to end the discussion.

i am a firm believer
in whispers.
small talk isn't
too small for me.
i hold my words too close
to my chest i barely breathe
without them.

so now, as my eyes fail me,
i wish time will be so
kind enough to tell me
how all of this ends.
i do not want to suffer
more than i already do—
and i do not need
another lesson on how to
survive in this
god-forsaken life.
yet everyone feels
compelled to
give me one anyway.
Coleen Mzarriz Sep 2023
I’ve been told by a friend to wait here.
As long as I stay here, you’ll be back past five o'clock.
I’ve waited—you came and opened the door.
It’s true; now I will dedicate my nine lives to you.
"She drinks her tea by midnight and lulls herself to sleep. You should waggle your tail and lie beside her. Every day except for Saturday." My friend laughed rigorously when she finished that statement.
“Why can’t I play with her every Saturday?” I asked her, trying to grasp her evading eyes.
"Just because," she shrugged and tried to climb the tree.
"Wait!" I hissed, but she’s nowhere to be found now.
I did everything she told me to do. Eat my food past lunch, play with my worn-out toy, and wait for her to be home.
At the exact moment the cruel sun rose and the light hit my body, I waggled my tail and lied beside her. Unfortunately, I forgot it was Saturday today.
I called her name, distinctively meowing in a weird manner. I cackled slightly; she wouldn’t understand. Biting slowly with her calloused hands and licking the side of her face, she still won’t wake up.
And I meowed until there was no sound left of me. My dear Celia, wake up, for you have to give me food now.
You still need to bathe me and play with me at the park. We’ll still wait for the night to come and watch TV.
Oh, Celia, I’d still spend my nine lives with you. Where have you been since I slept last night?
I’d still wait for you here at the table, near the window. Where the trees dance the delicacy of their sickening leaves. Oh, how we both hated the crispness of those brown leaves.
Oh, how you knew how much I hate autumn and how much I undoubtedly love the breeze of winter. The screeching of the winds and the snow falling onto the ground, where we both scrutinize its unique aspect. We were the same.
How you were covered in snowdrops, and you’d throw me inside the snowpack. I’ll hiss, and you’ll laugh.
"I told you not to play with her every Saturday," my friend whispered, almost with a faint cry. There was a hint of longing in her voice.
"You haven’t told me the answer, Ong."
"She grieves in her dreams, my friend. He visits every Saturday, spends a day with her, and goes home at exactly midnight. She’ll wake up tomorrow, bud," she answered in agony.
Who's he? " I turned to her, but she vanished once again.
Celia, I will love you for the rest of my nine lives. I’ll wait for you tomorrow. It’s okay to grieve for now.
I’d still wait for you here at the table, even though it’s autumn. We both got to accept that winter is already over.
It’s my first life with you in autumn.
I haven't written for a month, and this is what came to me today: I have been struggling to find myself lately, but I found myself falling in love with cats. And how badly I want to take care of them. Unfortunately, my mom doesn’t want to own a cat. It’s fine. I’m still in my 20s. I’m young; soon enough, I’ll be able to take care of a cat.
And I’ll love them for the rest of their nine lives.
In another universe, I have a cat named Yang.
Also, I’d like to thank this song for giving me an idea.
Song on the Beach: Arcade Fire and Owen Pallett

Thank you for reading! :)
Omarcito Aug 2023
In the solace of lavender-flickering
Fairy lights that guide
My syllables along,

Silence has never felt so

Silence, on questions I have asked my
Conscious for repetition, and
To hunt for answers
To unwritten dialogue,

And as I contemplate this concept,

The beauty of ringing church bells
Bleeds and creeps
Through my window,

Slicing through the distorted
Avenues and Sulcis of silence
In my mind,
                      To remind me
                                                Of where I am.
Lying in the back of my car,

Keys in the transmission,
                                          ­                        Hoping,
For a new path to explore
In this eclectic figure 8 of
Communication and relationship. I never
Try to make sense of it all,

A faint whisper from a Princess unshackles
My liberating-attempting mind,

A faint whisper, harmonizing with the
Church bells,
Soothingly-caresses my ears,

A faint whisper,
The words.

“Come with me this way.”

Hallucination of grace.
An overflowing melting ***
Of desire.

Stillness. Gracious like
A still river. Cercadas sing,
Rocks in awe don’t move.

Until the moment of that faint whisper,
I’ll remain in the spacious jar of silence,
For the Princess’ voices,
While the solace of lavender-flickering
Fairy lights
Guide my syllables along.
Savio Fonseca Jun 2023
Whisper Me your Dreams,
I shall make them come True.
As I sail U on My Boat,
on Waters that are Blue.
Your Fantasies and Desires,
Will be on a Journey that's Divine.
My Passions will keep pouring,
to worship your Holy Shrine.
U will find yourself in Heaven,
After I read both your Thighs.
U are My Angel of Love,
who has fallen from the Skies.
As U Moan away My Name,
I Whisper U My Midnight Magic.
The Sun, shows out it's Face
and Our caper, ends up Tragic.
Nigdaw May 2023
when I first tried it
on the world
it was a loud incomprehensible
but they came running
pandering to my every need
though sleep deprived and ragged
I was the centre of their life
but as I grew they stopped listening
despite the advancement
of language skills
I became dismissed
an irritant
so it got quieter
reduced to a whisper
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