A M Ryder 35m
I write for you
Of you
Of this nearness to
A life
Our life
And what a perfectly stupid time we could have
When I try to write poetry I write a novel instead
I can write a full page of how I'm feeling  or I don't know how to express my feelings with words and it's hard for me to write it down on paper
Haleigh 8h
it’s crazy how superstition works
any belief, sometimes even religion
can make you go completely bezerk

it’s 23.10hrs in the night
i’m lying here and thinking
it’s really, nearly time
ironic how I write this
for my mother always told me
it'll only come true
if you keep it a secret

I just have to write this
and pray that you see it

It’s 23.11 in the depths of the night
I wish you were here.
Carlos 14h
Lines like a laxative for tongues,
The individual pieces become greater than its sum,  
Summer time therapy dialing up in increments,  
Wouldn't know the difference between the butterflies and chrysalis.
Syzygy in spirit as sympathy in the impetus,
Synergy  in serendipity makes symmetry seem ubiquitous.
Flummoxed, I fell face first flying into fellowship,  
Feeling fusion in the furrows of my fingertips,  
Figure this,  mistigris,  implement mirrors  for the synthesis,  
Taking root  in the underground,
This is censorship on stimulus.  
Kaizen from the get-go,
How did silence ever get gold?
Climate of the  biome discernible by  petrichor,
Some of my greatest allies are people I've never even met before.  
Mumpsimus with metaphors, metatron or metamorph,
A mess of Mesozoic memoirs  drowning in a reservoir,
Reserve my right to write a mire of a  message board,
Desire an empire of satire to conquest; explore,  
Buyers,  sellers,  best befores,  
Crying out to be adored,
The expiration estimation rivals rivals' primal repertoires.
Rhymes like mycelium,  climbing up the  parapets,  
Embrangled mosaics interceding abstract arabesque.
I hate how reality can destroy dreams
I hate how fiction can’t be real
Ask my hopes
Why don’t they shine
Tied up with ropes
Of risks and fears
Talents became tales
Said in a date talk
Impressed,we are
By someone who dumbed reality
Without further harm
We plan our lives like
It’s an airport
So technical with no artistic design
And our planes rarely fly
Lily 1d
People frequently ask me,
“Please write this for me?”
“Can you make a character based off of me?”
“Can I be in your story?”
“Will you write a poem for me?”
And every time I get a question like that
I just want to scream,
I want to shout in their ears to
Make sure they understand that
I only write things I’m passionate about.
If it’s not a topic or a character that I am
Willing to put my entire heart and soul into,
I’m not doing it.
Please understand that this art for me is
A release, not necessarily a hobby.
I can’t take requests.
And I can’t control this passion.
Have you ever been in the early seventies?
Have you heard the melodies
Have you felt the style
Of love songs or even rock
Have you seen the houses
Calm lights and wooden tables

I guess love back then,felt different
In the cafés that play jazz
And streets crowded with trees
Or just a few benches by the sea
Extremely Seldom beeps

When elegance was still a trend
When movies didn’t have much quality
But an impact was always left

Friends were not virtual
Outings were not for photos
Cards were played for long nights
Walks were not interrupted by texts

Have you ever felt that warmth
When you enter a house somehow old
Like the sense of memories is still there
Nostalgic in a soothing way
Hard to explain
Unless you’ve been there
Have you ever been in the early seventies?
Write the bad things out,
Bleed the hurt through your pen,
Make straight your crooked hope,
Trap your demons in your words,
Exhale your fears through your handwriting,
Lock your pain in the margins of your book,
Erase your errors out,
Cancel out your mistakes,
Its your life..
Write it as you can.
Writing is release :)
you can’t right the same poem twice

hell, yes I can
in pointy fact,
only got one,
which gets re-righted
morning noon and evening-tide

substitute a variant spelling
wright vs write vs right
and the meaning changes thrice

the only thing i can’t not duplicate is those damn love poems
each unique and writ for the woman specific,
each love one, custom jiggered,
each poem, crafted, to her pulse
each drafted, to her scent
none alike, and that’s why I believe
in the god who commanded "create him"
to make love poems in his way,
gave me millions of veins
of inspiration to pray to...
my heart altered, modified, daily

damn poems
damn love poems
damn love
2/2/2018   10:14pm
What if,
You are a main character
Of the upcoming book
And you know it

Will you,
Be the same?
Or, will you try,
To make it worthy?
Or, will you disappear,
Holding nothing left?
Keeping the chapter

Tell me
What will you do?
Genre: Experimental
Theme: Character can be you
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