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Nigdaw Nov 24
I write lines that are sublime
I write lines that aren't mine
words are written on the page
by my hand but not my mind
snipes Sep 1
never stop writing
     express your heart




but remember what you write

~as the permeant pen bleeds
   you hope the alcohol can
   scrub it out~

yup the cup overrun with relief
I’m shattered
yup the bottle speaks with emptiness
as I live
the pen comes with a heartbeat
your assaults leave paper cuts
and these words come with wounds
please believe
LD Goodwin Aug 16
**** the clock, leave me be
I have an itch that can not be fully scratched
a hunger never sated
a Jones that never peaks

I am a slave, a concubine,
a conscript to words
they shiver up my spine
and are as a Dragon's flame

I need more to live
like air, and water and love
or the wind's subtle touch
and my muse's flesh against mine

For she has shown them to me
Her rings of passion
that shimmer in the sun
and I swell, hypnotized

**** the clock
rest your hands
I am bewitched
and must needs be met

Leave me be
to our fantasy
She waits for me still
true and wanting

My drug calls
my veins throb
the words, the words
they tell her where I am

Here
I am still here
and the Dragon
must be appeased

Oh tenderness
the sweetness left in my memory
for my wild imagination
to ferment like wine

Drunk now on these visions
impaired with temptation
I taste their milk of love
and suckle to sleep.

**** the clock
though I can not stay here
nestled within her *****
safe from the Dragon's flame

Aye, I must leave
but a spark of permanence remains
a tattoo on my brain
of flesh and sun and rings
*as always, thank you for your inspiration*
Scornful words; as a resting tongue reliant on lies.
Bitter sweet intentions, intentive of it being intentionally
sound. I'll be loud, overly of being too proud when
humbleness isn't found.

The wise know when to hold tongue, not being boastful
of knowledge's gain. They do not entertain the rantings of
fools. Those so few—do not conform to a standard of pitiful
stance. But instead stand out, as ones of content in their
struggles. As with feet with scars, but unafraid to dance.

So trade off those scornful words, but instead let be
encouragement, lest scorn. An encouraging poem.
                    Share your encouragement in action,
                    as much as you share them in words.
Leah Carr Jul 29
Poetry is art
That's what they say
But mine isn't meant to be beautiful
Or picturesque
Far from it

Mine is to picture my pain
In a way normal words and phrases can't

It's to show the trauma
that I can't bear to hold
any longer

It's to express my love for all those people
I can't talk to anymore
And I will never talk to again

Mine isn't meant to be beautiful
MalakF Jul 28
O, come a little closer - hear what I have to say,
I know that one piece of writing can be interpreted in so many different ways.
O, but do pay attention to my word-play,
To the picture I’m trying to portray.

O, I hope by the end of this you will understand the image I am trying to convey,
But do not get me wrong, the end of this is something I am attempting to delay.
O, it is saddening to know that sooner or later my rhymes will fade away
So I will replay, replay, replay.

O, how I pray that what we have will not decay.
Like all the flowers & bouquets that I watched wither/die a bit more every day.
O, but how pretty were they?
Sad to know that each & every single one was thrown out like the contents of an ashtray.

O, how you must have noticed the repetition of O’s - I think they are here to stay,
Unlike my pathetic, childish rhymes that I am struggling to hold at bay.
O, do not get me wrong - the rules to rhyme are so easy to obey,
They are so easy to slay.

O, like tray, cafe, puree,
For god sake, even JFK.
O, please tell me - do you see the problem on display?
Do you see what I am trying to say, what is coming my way?

O, it feels like a betrayal
No, no, no that’s not a rhyme.
I need to rhyme, I need us to be okay.

Ray, clay, Bombay.
Tray, fray, mae.
Ray, clay, Bombay.
Tray, fray, mae.

O, please stay
I need us to be okay.
O, I know repetition of words is not a rhyme,
Nothing more than copy & paste.

Ray, clay, Bombay,
Tray, fray, mae.
Ray, clay, Bombay,
Tray, fray, mae.

O, please I don't want us to stray
I hate how we went from white to grey.
O, please I don’t us to end this way,
I know I am barely rhyming but I will try my best, okay?

Look - ballet, allay, hooray,
Hay, weigh, olay.
Look - ballet, allay, hooray,
Hay, weigh, olay.

O, please stay
I need us to be okay.
O, I know repetition of words is not a rhyme,
Nothing more than copy & paste.

I’ll come up with more,
Dismay, replay, is-lay.
Tray, cafe, valet,
Delray, Alleyway, Chevrolet.

It is not that I don’t know how to rhyme,
I just need something to rhyme for.
Rhyming is synchronisation, it is compatibility
I just need to know we are.

Please, stay, stay, stay,
Don't go away, don't go away, don't go away.
Please, stay, stay, stay,
Don't go away, don't go away, don't go away.

Ray, clay, Bombay,
Tray, fray, mae.
Ray, clay, Bombay,
Tray, fray, mae.

I know I am barely rhyming, but I will do my best okay?
Please stay,
Don’t go away.
I always associated rhyme with compatibility, and although sometimes certain words that rhyme does not mean the same thing - such as "tree" and "flee", but in a bizarre way, they connect through rhythm. Rhythm can be such a beautiful thing, like in songs - where it can be jumpy, makes you want to dance and generally has a nice flow to it. Music is only one example of the input of rhythm. In general, a rhythm means consistency, a pattern in some way. To me rhythm (although it is not always the case) connotes good & happiness, like the act of skipping in a field of flowers.

Whereas with repetition, I always interpreted it as a point to emphasis, a dire need to be paid attention to, to be highlighted, acknowledged, underlined and to be focused on. In a way, it screams desperation to me. I don't believe it flows smoothly. Instead, I see it as pressing the car brakes quite abruptly & harshly, that your water bottle, phone and even yourself are yanked out of your seat - with the seatbelt suddenly burning your chest, or a child throwing a tantrum (crying, stomping their feet, throwing themselves on the floor & screaming).

In this writing of mine (partly completed), I speak about rhyming and how I do not want to stop - where at the same time there is the presence of repetition. And if you see repetition as a "scream of desperation" as I do right now, then as you progress through the page, you will be able to see that my rhymes become an embodiment of exactly that (desperation) - not only through stating clearly my urgency for rhyme but also by my rhymes themselves becoming repeated - thus my repetition of "O" fades away around the end - but that does not mean repetition is not there anymore - all that happened is that it took another form. Repetition becomes the only way for me to rhyme. Does that mean they are still rhymes or are they repetitions? If a word is repeated does that mean it rhymes or is it merely a duplication of the word? Can we distinguish between them? Is repetition more powerful or are rhymes? What do we make out of this?
Kassan Jahmal Jul 23
Brush of grass,
the emptying winds of a clearing sky
I sit on my feet crossed under new Sun,
—a beautiful scene. Darling as you and I.

The first love,
best remembered that was found in youth
I covered you under the rest of my Love,
—a pillow covering. A trade of tooth.

Questing heroism,
searching for a knight of a tale of fairy
Dragons flaming voice he fights for a Princess,
—an expressive word. Impressions do vary.

So many ways to portray my love,
that of which strait tongue is narrow broken in two.
But in these complex feelings towards,
—I'll say it in simple. Darling I love you.
Ylzm Jul 21
as in clouds so in words
many things seen and read
hiding keys affirming revelations
in the unseen and unspeakable
A bloom of flowers...
whispers of warmth under cold shivers...
tears of an experience...
gleaming light of joy...
a flame of echoed emotions...
reflection of loveliness...
lonely shatters of time...
the escape from a harsh reality...
a dream of eternal...
once forth as I loved you so–-all of the above,
all to remind me of your worth...

                                            At most, I'm lost for words.
Let the flow of Love, surround Me
and fill My Heart, with Joy and Peace.
Let the Waves of Passion, move Freely.
So their flow thru Me, doesn't Cease.
Let the Sound of Love, keep Ringing.
So My Words run, Clear and Strong.
Let My body Cells, rejoice in Singing.
To a Heart, which My Feelings Belong.
Let My Feeling for Love, stay with Me.
So My Nights, have a Beautiful Dream.
Let My Boat of Love, sail Peacefully.
On Waters, of a never ending Stream.
Let the flow of Love, be Vibrant.
As I travel, on the Highway of Life.
Sharing Love with Family and Friends
and with the Woman, in My Life.
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