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Swig and swim in dimming seethe,
plastic cup palomas, beers held
close to chest as voices lap
up steeply to black rafters.
Standing close, I feel you breathe
under my hands, and swell
with music, ribbon-wrapped
in clap and laugh.
These nights, they roll on in wild waves:
we're falling bed into bed,
our touch like breaking bread
before a feast where nothing's saved
for later - not a single bite...
Then day rises cold and wet and white.
ABCD ABCD EFFE GG
A chance meeting at a bar,
   chatting under pouring pine
& knotted wooden star:
   To new friends and a shared shrine;
   to love aging well, like old port wine.
Cinquain: ABABB
Sun is hotter,
but moon is nearer.

Yellow-belted dress
in runny mirror?

Come naked night,
intent is clearer.

In the day air
you can hear her

bright beguiling verses;
after dark is dearer -

moon-mouthed poems
are sincerer.
The truculent sun
escapes cloud guard
& serves us day

over green bonnet trees
that birth false fruit
where wasps crawl.

Now the roads fill
with rioting flax,
rose rays, rude rain -

there's too much life -
the world's heart is burst,
blonde-broken sobs.
Minor revision for better flow/logic
I am incapable of writing
So don't try to convince me that  
I possess countless poetic ideas.

Because at the end of the day,  
I see only failures in every attempt.  
And I'm not about to lie by saying that  
each setback helps me along.

Because no matter what,  
                        I feel trapped in a cycle of mediocrity.                        
And I am in no position to believe that  
true inspiration dwells within me.

For even in my darkest musings,  
Am I as uninspired as my doubts proclaim?
Backwards poems are so fun to write! They take away my writer's block!
No words could relay,
What my hearts wants to
say.
Except, "𝑰 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖."
Don't leave, just stay.
The words "I love you" hold power to the heart.
I am a Prisoner.
Prisoned in the cage of expectations and social order.
Perhaps that’s why I long so deeply for solidarity.
But these chains won’t break—no matter how hard I try.
They feel eternal, their grip unwavering and cold.
A silent rebellion against invisible chains.
My Dear Old Friend
Come to talk to you again
About what is, what was, and what will be
So many pens and styles
Computer screens
Notebooks plain and colored
Lined and unlined
You were the one I talked
Ran too
Confided in
Even now
Just as I bust out bursting free
I still find the time
For you are always my first and best friend
Things and you have changed
It's just not the same
Great memories but that is all there is
Now and then we will always be friends
You are stuck and standing still
No significant other which is sad
Wish you had a love like I have
Just so you know
Had to let you go
Is by chance or accident,
He was sent by Allah,
To rekindle your broken heart.
18/4/2025
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