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Repentant Feb 4
Streetlights hum a lullaby
to neon dreams.
Cracked pavement blooms
with graffiti roses.

My heart, a tangled vine,
unfurling in the dark.
Too many words unsaid,
a choked-back symphony.

Phone screen glows,
a cold comfort.
Another night adrift
in the digital sea.

But somewhere, a connection flickers.
A shared breath,
a whispered "me too."

Maybe tomorrow,
the static will clear.
Maybe tomorrow,
we'll find our bloom.
Vulnerability, relatability, short lines, imagery, modern language, social commentary, experimentation
Screen testing, screen testing – I start my days wondering how I’m
supposed to play the role to my life. I have a TV screen for my past,
to better watch my back. Most days I’m too caught up on channelling
my fears, for whatever reward I believe – they'll never pay me back;
they're just all looking for payback.

My overthinking sometimes, works overtime – trying to be a good
figure; putting words into action, to be an action figure. How would
you figure, that out of the bunch of men, you could stand out of the
rest?

And wouldn’t it be funny if the woman of my dreams told me, "you
need to rest" – only taking her advice, if she's the better dream out of
the rest.

For not all men can swallow their pride; others survived gallons –
but in short, a man would do it for the right gal. You tell him, "you'll
never get that girl," his pride starts to see a challenge. A greater pride,
chases tale to make it a talent – that man seems challenged!

Every day is a just balance of challenge – wealth we scavenge, our
dreams live as memory stores; we store up what we value the most.
We look at tomorrow for what's in store; born out of love just for most
of us to go and create war.

Speaking highly of yourself, often speaking down on someone else–
speaking life into a child's life, speaking ill on them when you grow
so sick of them. In the end, we are just words.
meryem Feb 2
Apologies,
Just words,
Words anyone could say.
Did you really mean it?
You say you did,
but why did you do it again?

Please don't say sorry,
While pretending to feel regret.
Thinking after just one word,
Everything will be fine,
That three simple words,
Will change how I see you now.

But I can't.

How are words supposed to erase
The pain, tears, and scars,
already made?
I feel like most of the time, apologies are just made to make us feel better about ourselves, rather than actually expressing regret.
Steve Page Feb 1
We’re told to watch the body language
that it may be subtle
and difficult to decipher.

But in the right hands
it cries out in its fluency
it sings in its inflections.

In the right company
you can’t tear your eyes away
from the clear meaning.


We’re told to watch the body language
so we watch his hands, his feet
each pierced to make a point.

We watch the words hanging there,
terrible in their eloquence
accentuated by His sacrifice.


We’re told to watch the body language
because in the right hands
actions speak so much louder than words.

And His can still be heard.
I'm an investigator.  When I speak to subjects of our investigations, I'm watching as well as listening.  But when I read the accounts of Christ's death, I'd have to be blind not to get the message.
Traveler Jan 24
If I were to attempt to communicate
in a language I seldom engage.
Beyond the thesaurus that my puny mind retains.
Who would interpret the hesitation of my contagious intellect.
Surely you would perceive
my thought patterns are not
conducive to the stimulus.
The Muse of college grammar
scarcely entertains.
The words of a true poet are developmentally ingrained!
Traveler 🧳 Tim

Simplicity is the poets pen..
life, has had its few licks of me – to envelop me in its envelope;
a sad message to myself. but don’t we all wish we were perfect
messages from God, a bit heaven sent? to the people who worry
what people say about them – their weight of words; drowning
more in people’s words, then any piece of writing in the Word

p.s, a well written letter to myself – I’ve been trying to line up
most of my better memories in alphabetic form; while holding
a solitary feather. I got stuck at the letter A, to list all of my
achievements

hoping to steal time like a stolen kiss; conscious thoughts that
escape my lips – speaking of me as someone you’d truly miss.
as I sign a message of my life in the ink of my fallen tears
       trying to stick onto the side of hope, as a sticky note!
Maria Jan 23
Stay with me for a short time,
Just for a couple of words,
Just for a couple of smilings,
For a couple of easy nods.

Stay with me for a couple of strophes.
I’ll pour two glasses of wine.
The one that, remember, used to prepossess
You and me both for a while.

Stay with me for a short time
For a couple of sportive jests,
For a couple of bootless guitar accords,
For a couple of stupid shy footsteps.

For a couple of silver-tongued tender breathings,
For a couple of sweet and tremulous words.
Stay with me, please, for a short time,
At least for a couple of epochs.
And again about love. Thanks for reading.
From me with love
Mental mettle,
Mettle mentally.
You just don't understand,
The way I speak.
So if you're yelling incoherently,
I'm just going to repeat the same thing,
I said before backwards.
So please use restraint my friend,
Or show some restraint to me.
Dedicated to those obsessed with personal gain. I pray the world has mercy on you.
don’t hug me for too long, just to suffocate my heart; then
look at me surprised when I tell you, “I think I’m in love.

don’t point me out so quickly as your man – I don’t
want to disappoint you.

don’t look into my eyes for the value of love; I’m also
still confirming the price.

don’t bother yourself giving me a cold shoulder, as a child
I enjoyed chewing on ice.

don’t force me to show you my love, my presence around
you will make sure it’s more than enough.

but…

do tell me constantly, “I love you” –
those three very words, I haven’t heard them enough.
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