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ryn Apr 2016
Many have come to pry me open.
Many have come asking for the key.
Offering promises that the doubt would lessen,
flaunting their oaths as currency.

Plenty have assured that they're not like the others.
They promised that their words were forged in steel.
They had come with nothing else except to offer,
their ears and support just so to seal the deal.

"Forgive me", I'd say... I am still a tad apprehensive.
But I do feel the need to speak...
I do long for ears attentive,
Not the ones which are attached to mouths that easily leak.

I know that there are such ears...
Hard to find but they're definitely there.
They'd be ready to catch my tears,
more than willing to show concern and care...

Yours seem rather reliable... That much I see.
They've come with intentions seemingly untainted and kind.
Don't suppose they'd take my words ever so lightly.
They won't lap up my secrets with treachery in mind.

Again I find myself here at the same spot.
About to hand over the duplicate key.
This familiar leap I hope you'd have me caught.
Please don't give away my secrets for free...
Gods1son Sep 2018
You have a lot on your mind to share
I said I was willing to hear
9 pm that night, we agreed to meet
You said things were too hard to bear
That was the last thing I heard
You talked for 30mins, I was knodding my head
My mind was too far from near

I was busy thinking of what to say to you
I didn't know I wasn't listening
Until you were through
My first sentence, your response was, what's wrong with you?
You left angrily and it hit me that I was such a..........
If we could only listen without thinking of what to say. Some people just need someone to pour their heart to.
towards another end
the black sky of winter postures

¬fireflies like stars by
depictions of dancing¬

ochre soil of rock escarpments
flood plains, buffalo grazing
and you smile at me as we’re driving

it seems presence always has a way of disassociating

  I have so much to say
but when you’re attentive it all feels cliché

   just play me piano keys and ruminations

when the storms sink the streets
and drains overflow with branches
there’s always that desire to stand amongst it
Leeli Barton Nov 2018
you give
a lot more
likes on my selfie

than you
give to my
attentive words.

i get
a bit more
sense of my self-fee--

thank you--
now i know
what you preferred
i have never been such a loss for words
i want to linger, want to be heard
ears attentive to every word
spend a thousand hours in your wake
split the last piece of your favorite cake
want to grow and to die
with you by my side
and to never ever wonder why
knowing deep down inside
that you were my soul's mate
Jade Charlotte Oct 2018
At night you fall to your knees
You beg for my worn out and stained forgiveness

You smother me with kisses and a spider suspends her body above my head
Black and long and attentive

A pen punctures a hole in my bag and ink bleeds all over my quilt and carpet
Blotches of dark blue distract me from the heat escaping your mouth
You whisper I love you as if trying to convince yourself that you do

The sky is foggy and the full moon lingers like a ghost
She is full and radiant and all-knowing

The spider and the moon humm me to sleep
You grasp desperately for me
I turn to dust

It’s at night when I rub the forgiveness out of my tear ducts
No more sacrifices
Kewayne Wadley Aug 2018
I love listening to you.
In any way possible.
Whether it's big or small.
Sometimes I get lost in not just the words you speak.
But the actions that follow.
I hate interrupting.
Adding on to previous statements.
Until I know that your completely done.
Not wanting to make you feel unappreciated.

My hands following yours in the deepest form of flattery.

Open ended questions that lead to hour after hour of communication.
My fondness for you growing deeper and deeper.
At times I can't help but interrupt.

Our pauses taking a bit longer after each statement.
It's the anticipation that I want you to know.
That I am listening and take to heart what you are saying.
Stretching myself to cover every part of you.

Completely attentive excited that you'd consider my opinion.
To sit back and reflect without jumping to conclusion.
The one thing that I can do to improve myself.
To love you better.
To accept any and every change that may occur.

A safe place where we can do and say anything without being judged.
I love listening to you.
Specifically without interrupting.
Noticing how happy you are being heard.
With the intent of hearing what you are truly saying.
I appreciate you for truly understanding that if I do interrupt
It's truly the sole purpose of how much I care
Krysel Anson Sep 2018
I am half-Chinese and a half Filipino-Spanish.
I have only learnt to speak Filipino my whole life.

The best advises I have received is that there is no right or wrong,
that labels does not always help.
That no matter what, I should just go
and "Live my life", or "Sing in Full Voice, Until Then".

Attentive to a fault to the work or person at hand.
Because of routine and living demands, sometimes I
only pay attention to what is available or given to me.

Like the quest for the Spices of the East, I could no longer live the same way when the time came. I had to learn preservation and other flavors.

In a Asian Food Show, someone shares
How some later generation Chinese had to study their own native language in secret between 1966 to 1998.  
Stories of how their migrant or refugee heritage have made them scapegoats of many local tensions.
And varieties of words and ingredients also native to Chinese and later generations that lived offshore.

Many of us now in the thrash of our collective songs
towards healing and full living as humanity, continuing
refugees and wanderers in our own ways.

Where we see our indigenous-selves and our oppressor-selves,
is not as difficult as we are usually made to,
in a world of artificial
demands and surpluses.

One old song gently reminds me
in many languages singing,
as another bowl of handmade noodles
breaks open into countless random pieces:

We are only passing through earth.
Made to experience, and let go of our fears
and limitations.To gather our remains so that
it is inanimate buildings and objects that are used
by the living instead, and nothing is left behind.
To not leave a trace. To learn how to love.#
Nic Sutcliffe Jan 2017
It was then that the universe decided to play
Out a sequence of events that would lead to this day
She conspired with the sun
    with the earth and the moon
With the rest of the cosmos
    to create enough room
For elegant curiosity to bloom

Opportunity presented herself to his door
She gestured,
  and smiled,
   And said "wait no more"
He knew in an instant it was time to act,
Because chances are few, such a plain simple fact.
And so our protagonist seized that one chance,
For his soul to experience a new kind of dance.  

It was all for a girl,
  what if?
She moved with such grace, she sparked up a spliff
In the garden of dreams,
     bathed in glorious sunlight
Her hair, face and smile
     it all felt so right
And watching her glow and feeling her ****,
He knew it was time,
   he knew that he must.
He leaned in closer for a taste of her lips,
She turned in towards him,
    she shuffled her hips
And then when at last they shared that first kiss,
His soul was ignited and smothered in bliss.

And that was the moment that everything changed,
A shift in perspective, a life re-arranged.
For what then ensued through that day and that night,
Was nothing short or pure cosmic delight.

Moments come and moments go
Memories fade over time's forward flow
But the feelings remain, they are timeless and true
And no-one and nothing can take them from you.

So if you're attentive to universe's song,
   and seize opportunity,
you can never go wrong.
For you might one day find where you truly belong
Another poem centered around love but the focus here is seizing opportunities when they present themselves. Peace and love my fellow poets
Romen Tsaturyan Jun 2018
My bed is a fortress
It is raised for my dreams,
Yet it seems
That a heritage, unshared, is enclosed there by kings,
By monarchs of wisdom I have never seen.
Their whispers are carried in the night by the breeze,
Through the hallways of art to my attentive ears.
Butch Decatoria Aug 2018
What genius evening keeps secret… the moribund...

His foot falls to echo the chill of November deep
Tapping, clapping, wrapping
His man heavy fragility in wool

How distant and suddenly wide is the night.

What shrewd skills fear casts, a mask,
That evening keeps him wary, attentive as wax,

Shadows shed no comfort for this lamb,
His rhythm once lord of the dance
Pulsing toes as eyes flash to every creak and whisper

Depth of sightlessness made paranoid by twisted twilight
Shapes, shifting with the nerves frozen with haste…

His weakness, not knowing, a pallid winter on his face
Even now the slow climb upon his back
Carried by the slip of a breeze laying waste,
The soundtrack of dead leaves and black

His foot falls stomping to clash and map
A stroll as reality saves nothing sincere, when fear
Deepens to his bones resolve and panic...

What genius a weapon: flights of fancy
And the conditioning of youth to preconceive

The hollow of city sidewalks, midnight’s screaming chill
The mouth of alleys he passes ready to swallow him still

Strange and delicate the space between his ears
Defeated before finding a sure foot
Before reaching a well lit street

Familiar and familial suburbs of a mind
Diminished by the subterfuge of fear…

His foot falls turn a corner
And the sound of concrete and conflict

Kris Oct 2017
The ancient bridge is alight with rage
burning bright like dragon's breath--
fierce, invigorating, brimming in age.

she had been a structure of the primeval kind
wooden bones tied together with tendons of twine
and sweat the subtle scent of forest from pine.

a mother she had been to the lands that relied
on her undying presence throughout bodies of time,
their parted lips looking for a voice in their midst.

yet, it was not soft thanks nor words of praise
but instead scorn that was spat at her from the
toothless mouth whom she would steadily aid.

loveless from the moment of her birth--built by force
hammering nails until they fit (and she bled)
wires strung tense above her, intended to strain.

and yet through it all she kept her balanced grace--
did not falter--not even from the howling remarks
of the de-hearted winds that carved scars through her;

not when the snow seasonally perched on her back,
refused to budge; filling her caves with ice, 'til the sun
melted them like tears, meanwhile searing her skin;

not wavered by the storm of steps--the most agonizing,
this relentless drum-beating, a headache’s throbbing
that never gave her even a heartbeat's rest.

thus the flames became the sole love to taste her
intimate, attentive; the blaze left no part unsavored
they carefully consumed her whole, limb by limb.

first stroking her weary wings until they lowered;
blanketing her shivering legs that always stood firm
but, exposed, had wanted to be covered.

licking delicately the buckling belly that was worn raw;
what rapture! what warmth! a foreign feeling of awe
for it had heretofore only ever known violation as law.

and so at last the foundation creaked, fatigued;
her last breath (one she had been holding for eternity)
erupted as a half-happy cry, for she resolved to release;

the weight of sisyphean struggle collapsed piece by piece
and as the fire consumed her, all pressure was relieved--
for ashes perceive not burden--they are as light as dreams.
Molly Sep 2018
While I was busy planting flowers for others
I neglected to remain attentive to the vibrant petals that began to sprout between my toes.

They tell me I am deserving of their beauty
They are remarkable
I ignore the petunia's persistence and decline their invitation to take root among my insides
"You have planted so many of us for others,"
They sigh
"Let us remain planted here
For you
For once"
They remind me how I am capable of giving
Incapable of receiving
Incapable of receiving
Incapable of receiving

It is not until years later when I have planted so many wildflowers for others that there is but a thin line between their tips and the sun
They have grown so tall I am covered in shade
I stare down at my toes
The gaps between them are empty
No more seeds left
No more seeds left
Nyx Dec 2018
When emotions well up
Annoyance and anger hits me
Recentment burns
Yearning to be set free

And reluctantly I let it
Slowly seep its way through the cracks
Waiting for the perfect moment
Where it can launch its final attack

Silently it brews
Subtly it shows it way
Be attentive and pick it up
As then we can begin our play

Where we act so innocent
Oblivious to what surrounds
Hands over our eyes
Refusing to make a sound

Let's see what you can do
Tho your actions won't go unanswered
In the end you'll reap what you sow
But until then nobody has to know

Except for me my dear

When the flames around you roar
And you scream out to the sky
There will be nobody left around
Who will listen to your cries

Its funny how things change people
Into beings they use to resent
And when their time comes
Its their turn to repent

And you hear the little whispers
Amongst the friends that you hold dear
No longer knowing the reason
They refused to keep you near

You never could see it though
You were always searching for more
Taking for granted everything you had
There is nobody left to adore

I hold no sympathy
As this was your doing

You reap what you sow

Armand-DeamoJC Sep 2018
Here I lay in my comfort composure
Listening to every rythm of my music
Removing my white earphone to listen
To listen to the beauty of nature raining
Picturing myself as a randrop falling; free
Picturing the placid movement of water
Moving as one, cold breeze and falling with heavy gravitational pull
Thinking back to when I'd lay in
Listening to every perfect beat of your heart
Concentrating on the whispers of your spirit
Being attentive to your chords as you release them
Piercing my mind, quaking
through my flesh
To simply un-wither that was even desintegrated
Your love circulating my veins
By speaking
Rippling accross my seams
Bolting through my body more
than any drug ever
Hanging me on your hook
Touring to the meadow in my
Conquering the battles in my
Re-writing the words on my page
that is life
After enough re-painting
Of my story
You started to un-write my book
Crossing the hearts
Tearing the written pages
Oh how I could only stand and
Oh how all you did, difficultly
The whispers your soul gave
Cleared and filléd my mind
Was I abandoned by your heart
So easily the welcoming door
Became an unbidden command
This hour
Is when I play it back;
Remenisce about it
Laying alone, in discomfort
Listening to no beats
Not even one of my own
Then I close my eyes violently
Shoving back the emotion
To silently replay those words
I love you
Crashing down
Bolting tar through my body
Poisoning my mind
Rippling through my veins
That same poison
Is what I use
To **** inside me
What demons creep
See the story has a twist
What I feared most
What demons I feared even more
Is exactly what I became
The poison inside me
Crisply ogling at me
Inside the cage
Inside what
We call a
A very long poem yes I know, if you read this far thank you. It's 03:26 and I just think back to the best days of my life
Yenson Aug 2018
What I bring to the table is Sensitivity, Sincerity, Compassion,
Honesty and Respect
What I bring to the table is Intelligence, Good Grace and Humour,
Understanding and Confidence
What I bring to the table is Generosity in spirit and Deeds, Calmness and Reflection, Strength, Bravery and Courage
What I bring to the table is a Caring Soul, a Good Heart and Faith,
Loyalty and Truthfulness and Trust
What I bring to the table is Versatility, Competence and Originality
What I bring to the table is the Love of Romeo and Real Passion

So tell me why I am being GREEDY if I say I do not care if I eat alone!

Am I to blame if some chose not to see
Am I to blame if stunted pride and ego blinds
Am I to blame if stupidity and foolishness abound
Am I to blame if complexes and insecurities assail some
Am I to blame if dishonesty and fickleness is more appealing
Am I to blame if envy and jealousy blind eyes and minds in others

Am I to blame if they term caring and attentive as clingy
Am I to blame if they term Intelligence and Honesty as arrogance
Am I to blame if they term Strength, Bravery and Courage as Male
Am I to blame if they term Intelligence Competence and originality
as Controlling
Am I to blame when they lack the Ability to look honestly and truthfully within themselves before pointing their fingers

So tell me why I am being GREEDY if I say I do not care if I eat alone

So tell me why I am being GREEDY if I say I do not care if I eat alone
at my table..........
Akillmisa Jul 2018
I remember when you would hit my chest
you would cry and pray
or whatever you felt that day
you'd look at me with those disgusted eyes and say
why dont you love me
well loving you made me this way

As every insecurity you projected unto me
led to my undoing
we fall apart
when I look at us
I  see the flaws you made aparent
I sigh woe is me blah blah blah
I hid behind the humor
but you made me this way

i remembered when you wanted my defensive
but when I did you became offensive
I dont understand
or  just wasn't comprehensive
of what mistakes I made
you were attentive that id never make this error again
I was set up for submission
or was that was your true intent
nevertheless you made me this way

I sleep next to you but the only presence is air
when I reach for your hand
you're not willing to share
id be there when you didn't want me to
but if the roles changed I aint sure what you'd do
this way of life isn't just about you
you made me this way to stop loving you
its late at night but i couldn't rest until my words were seen
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