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He wrote three lines
killed humanity in the first, the language in the second, and the reader in the third, and  sat waiting for condolence cards and flattering flowers .
 May 2021 jade
Saltnoon
She is not just an empty canvas for you to fill up your filthy art
She is not just an empty canvas for you to flow out your dark desires in red seduction
She is not just an empty canvas for you to write out your ***** poetry in paint
She is not just an empty canvas for you to colour her in pink and purple that are made up of your lies
She is not just an empty canvas for you to throw out your anger in chili red and orange like fire
You may be empty and lonely but you should never let yourself be destroyed by the artist that can paint you in colorful lies.
 Apr 2021 jade
anilkumar parat
tickle me.
taunt me, torture me.
with your eyes,
your fingers , your nails.
your lips, teeth, tongue.
your breath.

be relentless, ruthless.
play like a cat would
with a hapless li'l mouse.

don't stop.

until my skin
breaks out
in flaming goosebumps.

until
i arch and bend.
like a bow,
taut, tense.

until i explode.

and with me,
this phantasm
and all it's nightmare
of pestilence,
of sorrow, despair,
of death, distress, desolation.

if only for mere moments.

don't stop.
 Apr 2021 jade
Tom Turner
Writing
 Apr 2021 jade
Tom Turner
Sometimes writing
is my only link
to sanity,
my last-grasp handle
between this crazy
every day world
and the world
I want to see
and want to
believe can be.
 Apr 2021 jade
My Dear Poet
a girl kissed a boy
and told him not to tell
he grew up to be a poet
with a promise kept so well
till he wrote one day a poem
that she’s found reading, but forgot
and wondered if it’s really him
and thinking that it’s not
but buried within these pages
and hidden within the rhyme
were words dripping from his lips
caressing every line
so she came in a little closer
and read it to the end
and found him in the poem
and kissed his lips again
Now it’s your turn not to tell
 Apr 2021 jade
Andrea Fann
Hotdogs
 Apr 2021 jade
Andrea Fann
i love apples
      and hotdogs

but they don't go together

they aren't meant
       to have one future
This is meant as an extended metaphor - just stop for a second and take a moment to think about it.
turbulent eyes and worn hands
faded tattoos from long-forgotten
drunken nights
marks of needle prinks
and a southern slurred speech
- you were kind to me
 Apr 2021 jade
zumee
Dear Reader,
if you're reading this
it means
I'm dead
as a paper

free

to be etched
with the poem
I tried to write
so many times
when I was me-
-at
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