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Tim Mansour Jun 2018
Taking control, he looked at himself in the mirror,  
his eyes tracing the lines and hairs and circles.

He sat and gazed out the window for a time, noticed the street signs and the birds.

He listened to the noises coming past the open door
He stood and walked through the day until he sat, on a bus,  
or next to a tree, or beside a homeless woman.  
He chose not to act or speak but simply to be.

He found a quiet place to wonder  
how the tips of his fingers could move a pencil with such minute rhythm  
above a line of awareness, connecting him to everyone  
who ever read  
or died.

He travelled in and out of consciousness, to the stars and back,  
and all his journeys made experiences,  
but his awareness made wisdom.

He thought of love, and this thought became  
his breath, and the sky,  
and the day ahead was a clean sheet to write upon,  
to be continued,  
to start for the first time.
Heavy Hearted Dec 2018
I'm a song and a poem and an epitaph alike. I'm the dirt gravel path in the forest you hike. I'm the wind and the rain, I'm the first sip of tea
I am the red haze above deep dark blue Sea.
I'm whips of hard smoke, fresh perplexities-
im only what
you want me to be.
Path Humble Jun 2018
left my phone unlocked
on the taxi’s back seat,
won't be the last time

called it a few times
finally, the driver picked up

he had a fare immediately after mine,
and was now headed way downtown,
and would call later
when fate returned him nearer my office

and so it came to pass,
very shortly thereafter,

we met on the street,
he rolled down  the window
and with the greatest smile of pleasure,
as if he had won the lottery
beaming,
handed me my phone

I had two $20's to cover any expense he might have incurred,
neatly folded in my hand  
and offered it right up, right away;
but the driver repeatedly pushed my hand away
as I insisted,
saying:

"No sir, no no, not necessary!

Allah sent me a fare
that took me soon back close to you, so,
  no loss of time did I suffer,
so your offer is kindly unnecessary!"


to which I replied,

"exactly!
Allah sent you to me
so I could reward you!"


and with an equally, beaming smile continued,

"our ride and meeting today,
together was pre-ordained it was


Inshallah!" ^

something he could not dispute...
or his amazement, disguise...

  we parted ways
   each believing,
   each receiving
a heavenly check plus,
each, credited with a mitzvah^^
on our
respective trip logs,
our humanly divine balance sheets,
kept by the
single
supreme taxi dispatcher
Arabic for ^"God/Allah willing" or "if God/Allah wills," frequently spoken by a Muslim


^^a meritorious or charitable act in the Jewish tradition

FYI,
NYC taxi cab drivers are suffering economically by the explosion of ride hailing app cars, many unable to pay their bills, earn a living, have committed suicide over the past few months
https://www.nbcnews.com/news/us-news/sixth-new-york-city-cab-driver-dies-suicide-after-struggling-n883886

true story, poetry is there for the taking
You cannot trust your mind anymore, the senses must be lying too. It is simply jut not logical that you go mad in sleep when awake, you never have gone mad.
- Listen, mortal. I am, not here, I am, not now, out of the spacetime layer. And in this moment, you, too, will see what I see. History on one big image. From the Creation to the final extinction of known life.
-- You think, well, what about the Big Bang? Is that a lie?
- Not a lie but we have to discuss more earthly mysteries. Listen, what you are currently saying to yourself? Even though you are almost absolutely sure about the conjecture, that you are dreaming, starts to become complicated to proove. What if that's a dream, you kindly ask, now that this dreaming tests are being unconsciously reassure you:
- I's not a dream...
Prepare for the next episode: "...Why is death talking to me? - It is more convenient, we never rest. But since we only trespass the real spacetime layer of yours. - Mad scientist, cool. :) - I am the opposite of mad. - (****, he's right) - Do you have any questions, death? - Only answers. But don't bother, I have get used to the ****. It is unreal in our denser layers. The species with most intelligence we found, strangely: humans...
Eric Apr 18
The point in silence that makes your brain implode . Every day becomes a search of relief   and every bit of it filled with grief . The second the feeling hits where the heart no longer exist . I'm broken , and you refuse to understand it . Is moving on a thing .Even with years that I could sing . That you made me feel like there was a reason to being. Maybe I'm crazy and everything I see shouldn't faze me . But your love grazed me . Took the whole side of me out , now every interaction becomes a moment of doubt . I am me , and everything is estranged to what it used to be . Now my world is filled with empty thoughts and actions . With every thought given to your affection . I laid down like I was taught a lesson . A lesson never to forget again . Cause our every action creates a world in between . Cause who knows really what the others are thinking . They could be creating a story without me ever existing . I'm listening , to my non-existent heart beating . It's weaker then before because there once was two beats according to our breathing . But you've deceived me .
Lily Apr 2018
She will teach you to trust, by way of betrayal;
In the mist and roar of her tireless tides. You will find her hand
and reach for her

Like a dream, she will vanish
before your eyes.
abbey Dec 2018
dear lover,
hey. i hope that you know by now this is about you, for you, and of course, composed of my feelings towards you, which are astronomically & quite perpetually that i love you.

it sounds cliche, but what letter to a lover doesn’t?

your smile tastes like the feeling of infinity; i can’t get enough of you.

you look at me & my heart bursts into flames, & i can’t yet tell if the burning sensation was all i ever wanted, & all i ever needed

there is a very good chance that you will break me, but i won’t be mad. i will not contain anger if you chose to end it with me, but i will continue to love you until that feeling fades.

i understand that i can be a little much, & i understand that i am hard to understand. but for the first time in forever i feel like you want to understand me, & in that way, you do.

dear lover,
i never want to cease loving you,
i never want your 2 am phone voice to fade away,
i feel infinity in you,
do you feel it in me too?
Before there was anything that mattered everything that would ever be existed , it was the essence of totality , it was without dimensional constriction or necessitated form .  Optimistically speaking time had no relative realism to it’s progression because realistically nothing had happened yet .  As it continued it became according to it’s innate inflections as a functionally integrable form .  The questionably understandable nature of it’s conjunction was an omnipotent directive beyond necessitated action or morphological construction .  The enigmatic consciousness of it’s relatively interrelated conception was spontaneous and yet it continued without elemental omniscience.  

As the relative complexity of it’s interrelations evolved dimensional consistence was born.  Humanly understandable laws of physical integration governed many facets of it’s conjunction yet the totality of it’s ramification was beyond humanly realistic conjecture .  

The organic morphology of biological ontogeny was a conceptually reflective derivative of functional physical mechanics yet it’s diversity exceeded it’s physical complexity , understanding evolved .  Relatively extraneous interpolations of adhesively practical extremity succeeded in a hierarchy of functionally integrable forms .

Retrospectively speaking pragmatic practicality is a humanly rational possibility .  Rational logic can conceive of individually totalitarian structural forms , yet the implosive nature of their rational cohesiveness becomes a practical partiality due to the diversity of their definitive impetus .

Perhaps the essence of our being is the logical counterpart for the matrix of our subjectively conclusive social fragmentation , or perhaps we are evolutionally incapable of cumulatively rational correlation.  Problematic diversity could be perfectible on an individually infinite level or contrarily perhaps ubiquitous causality is the ultimate survivor.  

In any case it is beyond our subjugatively rational cohesive coercion to intercede en masse on our own behalf as an integrated unit. Our conceptual abilities have been thwarted by the unmitigatably individual nature of our extraneous conclusiveness .
Re-post
you think
you're over it.
you think
it's all behind you.
until it's not.
until something
triggers it.
it's been 498 days,
but today everything was
ripped out again.
every stitch i made...
was ripped out...
again.

i was watching a movie
with my mom.
a boy got into the backseat
and tried getting
with the girl.
she refused.
my mom looked at me
and with sad eyes said
"it happens more than
you think.
but sometimes
the boy gets further."
no ****.
no ****.
no ****.

i went outside
and smoked a cig.
my heart was racing.
a frog jumped around
in my throat.
i cried.
as the boy climbed
into the back,
i couldn't help but feel
scared.
not for the girl
in the movie,
but for myself.
because every time
i close my eyes,
i taste fireball,
i hear that ******* music,
and i see his eyes.
the eyes that can
pierce the darkness
and jump right into
my *******
nightmares.
His eyes narrate a story ,
A story her heart could never forget ,
She said he was lunatic and he admits he wasn't perfect ,
But her thorns of ego which hid behind the shadow her so called 'self-respect' ,
Led their fight to hatred and tears which shouldn't have been shed ,
And now both of them wish that they shouldn't have met ,
Though , the decision of leaving each other is a bigger regret ,
Every thought about her makes his eyes wet ,
Nothing can calm his soul no bear , no drugs , no smokes of cigratte ,
Recalling their happy moments seem just like a romantic movie set ,
He was a poet and she was the meaning of his every alphabet ,
He keeps on scrolling about their old whatsapp chats ,
He cannot forget the warmth of her naked body as they cuddled in his bed ,
There are still a couple of her clothes in his closet ,
At nights he spreads around in his room all those shreds ,
Her smell is the only memory he has of his soulmate ,
I told him that this is the truth of life which you have to accept,
If she was your daylight than this is just a sunset ,
It wasn't your fault and you don't have to be upset ,
Life is like a stream , so don't get much obsessed ,
I cannot see those tears in the eyes of this young lad ,
But to justify his broken heart i dont have any reason left ,
The soul in his body without the temperament of her soul has become a serious threat.
Was she cruel and heartless to leave him? Are his words about her true? I will find out soon.
Alyssa Underwood Nov 2015
Even if love is never returned,
never even received,
it is never in vain
for love never fails

To love someone
though you mean nothing to them
may seem too cruel a burden
for the heart to bear

But the only thing worse
than not being loved
is to not love

And so the greatest tragedy
of love spurned or lost
would be to stop loving

For to cease loving
that which causes us pain
would be to let the pain win

But for as long as we love,
really love with Christ's own heart,
no matter what else happens
we win

Love without pain
remains unproven
and therefore is meaningless

But love through pain invokes
nothing less than the miraculous
and inspires even the incredulous

Only continued love
can redeem the pain of loving
and only a Perfect Love
can heal love's scalding wound
~~~
Sometimes the only way left to love someone is to forgive them and let them go while still hoping and praying for their very best.

"If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing. Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails."  1 Corinthians 13:1-8a

"And so we know and rely on the love God has for us. God is love. Whoever lives in love lives in God, and God in him."  - 1 John 4:16
Emmanuella Nov 2018
"I can’t figure it out.” She said.
“I like cigars,
and pretty dresses and crossing my legs.”
She paused,
then continued,
“And I like smoking cigars in pretty dresses while crossing my legs.”
She uncrossed them,
then crossed them again.
One smooth limb over the other.
Just like that.

“But I never seem to have a lighter on hand.
Could you— sir,
please light my cigar?”
“You see, I have no pockets to hold such things and my purse…
Well,
You’ve confiscated that, haven’t you?”

“Thanks.” She breathed,
and inhaled,
and exhaled;
Sluggish wisps of smoke dissipating into the air.
Just. like .that.

“I didn’t know L'homme was into women who smoke cigars in pretty dresses while crossing their legs", She said.
“I mean, how was I to know?
I only noticed him noticing me.
It was probably the way my hair was tousled like so,
Or how my lipstick shone a deep, dangerous rogue,
Or the way I sipped at my champagne…
That made him walk over.”

“But I never asked him to light my cigar
Or comment on my dress…
Or stroke my legs.
So when I whacked him up top over the head with my glass,
I bet he never expected it to shatter and split his skull like so.
He dropped so sudden, sir. I…”
Another ringlet of smoke, a sigh, an uncrossing and crossing of legs again.
“I had no clue,
what else to do,
But to sit still in my pretty dress, with my legs crossed, smoking my cigar trying to figure out...
Just how I'd committed ******.”
"She's a dangerous woman...
Who can ****,
Just with her *** appeal".
My Heart and Mind had a discussion one day,
About a man that they both knew quite well.
The heated discussion continued for hours,
Both with arguments meant to compel.

A debate ensued between the two,
With each taking a different perspective.
The Heart believed the man to be true,
And the Mind thought he was deceptive.

Heart started the discussion with an obvious point,
"He is sweet and gentle like no man before."
Mind responded smugly, "That's great in the moment
but how does he act after she's walked out the door?"

Heart countered, already knowing the point being made.
"Sure, he may not be able to write or call;
He is busy with constant demands of his time.
What he feels in his heart matters most of all."

"I disagree," and Mind continued to say,
"Actions mean far more than words alone.
It is when words and actions are considered together
that a man's true feelings are shown."

"He has to compartmentalize to get through the day."
Heart continued to defend his intentions,
When they are together his feelings are real,
but her insecurities span many dimensions."

"It's funny you would mention compartmentalizing.
Apparently your memory isn't as sharp as mine,
He was once quoted as saying this was not his strength,
proof that his statements don't always align."

"You are cynical, suspicious and guarded."
Heart was clearly tired of this dispute,
"Those traits are clouding your judgement.
He is genuine and telling the truth."

"I think you are overlooking the obvious but
I'll relax and stop doubting his intentions
if he makes an effort to send a simple sign."

Heart and Mind both wanting to prove their point
and have the bragging rights of superiority.
Mind sure that the man would disappoint her;
Heart confident in his genuine sincerity.

Both waited patiently for some type of gesture,
Something to demonstrate that he really does care.
Heart began to worry and whispered to herself,
"Stay calm and trust that it's not just another affair."

Patience prevailed and an email arrived,
just as Heart had hoped and prayed.
Mind, although disappointed by being proved wrong,
was relieved and no longer afraid.

Trust and calm filled her spirit when thinking of him,
but it was both that won in the end.
Maybe they were more than temporary lovers
and could also be permanent friends.
Sharon Thomas Oct 2016
Sister who conceived was thrown outta the nunnery
This disgrace fed the top feeds hence.
Shunning all her exemplary works at once.
But where did the well-read ladies lose reference?
THE BOOK had revealed it all right there,
But when history repeated itself...
with just a track from heaven missing
And so this mother raised a fatherless child.
But in history when the father was a Carpenter.
Here in time the father was a Father
Who continued to raise "patriarchy" on the altar!
Paul Hansford Aug 2018
When we first stood, those fifty years ago,
outside the church together, man and wife,
we had no way of knowing if our life
was bound for sun and smiles or tears and snow.
In the event, we had our share of each.
When children came, as we continued longer,
the highs and lows made our love all the stronger,
and happiness was never out of reach.
Together, then, we've weathered many a storm,
and having lasted now for half a century
I think we're justified to call it victory
to know our love continues just as warm.
(Although age may reduce youth's fiery passion,
a long, slow smoulder's never out of fashion.)
Thanks to all who've commented/loved this. I guess I'd better update it next year, as it's going to be the Diamond Wedding!
Kora Sani Sep 25
people seem to forget
how tiring it is;
telling your story from the beginning,
reliving all those moments;
even the ones you forgot
but still carry with you
so many hours to invest
just to bring a stranger up to date,
so they can understand why you are
the way you are
and why you fear
the things you fear
Lexi Guffey Nov 2017
I met him at a conference.
I sent him my gratitude and congratulations,
And as our dialogue continued we realized how similar we are.
He was going to the next event,
so we met up in September -
his eyes sparkling like stars in the night sky,
or embers of the inferno his mind produces,
his laugh as contagious as the plague,
and his voice as smooth as milk and honey.
A kind-hearted boy
with a witty tongue.
His hand, my hand, colliding.
Is it on purpose?
We learned about leadership,
gazed at monuments together.
He tells me this moment is perfect,
already my head's spinning,
and I’m wondering if we will make it out alive.
We spent the entire day laughing and commentating
on everything that happened,
submerged in analytical discourse
on what it means to be alive,
our experiences,
how little time.
We only came up for air
when our eyes linked,
and we stared.
He looked past my eyes
into my soul.
He says to me
“That's a nice thought you’re having”,
Exercising his intuitive prowess.
I laughed and wondered if he really knew
of the chaos raging in my mind.
Before we knew it,
the bus pulled up.
Of course, I wanted to stay.
I’ve been waiting for a boy like this,
and there he was in all his beauty.
Charming, suave.
I grabbed his hand,
holding on like this might be the end.
He says
“Don't cry. This isn't over. We'll still talk,”
The nerve.
We both know
this can't last
But I know we wanted it to.
And so I nodded,
letting myself fall.
I closed my eyes,
Trying to take in this moment;
to remember how
his hand felt in mine,
the depth of his eyes -
like a thousand worlds or a vast starry night,
the ring of his laugh -
how intoxicating.
I wish I remembered
what we talked about.
Instead I remember trying,
failing,
not to be sad
because deep down I knew
that happy endings only happen in the movies,
and our story was ending
before it began.
We hugged goodbye tightly -
for a second
I felt safe,
content.
It hurt to let him go.
I watched his smile fade as I stepped off the bus.
As he vanished I stood
motionless,
like I’d been struck by lightning,
peering closely as if I’d see his face one more time.
He was gone for good,
and all at once this dream was over.
My phone buzzed
"I really miss you"
But in a month, will you?
I sat on the plane that night replaying his voice in my head.
I couldn't help but think
'he could be the one'
And maybe he could have
but timing was not in our favor,
and life doesn't wait.
The problem is, my brain
understands
but my heart still wants
to trace the lines on his hands,
to memorize the curves of his face,
to feel his lips on mine,
to hear the inflections in his voice,
to learn all of his quirks and imperfections,
to know what he's thinking,
to smile with him forever.
And instead,
I will have to learn how to be alone,
to forget the butterflies and the plans,
to swallow how much I care,
to resist pressing send,
to recover.
It's not supposed to end this way.
It's supposed to fail
when you fall out of love,
not when you love too much
to be so far
apart.
I suppose this isn't a very relatable poem, but it is true! This is something that's just been on my chest for a long time, so this is a poem that I needed to write. It's weird how just typing the words makes me feel lighter. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it even if it's not an "oh that happened to me" kind of poem.
Cress Rosario May 2014
I closed my eyes, leaned my back
Relaxed, unwind, and lids locked
Suddenly, I opened my eyes
We were running away from fires

Eagerly holding his hand
I was afraid and terrified
He looked at me giving the bravest smile
"Honey stay with me, you'll be fine."

I blinked half a second...
We're inside a building left undone
Grunge, old, and sad
Something has been chasing us

A huge thing, a dauntless thing
Is it a wolf? No... It's a beast
They are increasing, expanding
Approaching, my heart is fast beating

This guy holding me never lets my hand go
With him by my side, I know what to do
The run never ends, the pant never stops
I closed my eyes, ran fast and then hopped!

My eyes were opened, he was beside me
It's a light cool dawn, I've been in a terrifying sleep
I continued leaning my back on a soft, white sheet
Stared at the window, what a dreadful dream!
This explains what happened and what I felt on my dream last night. Not an exact explanation.. but it's a terrifying one. I always dreamed of being chased and being on a scary places or scene. I'm glad I am with my beautiful guy there in my whole dream. Giving me the safest feeling.
Bus Poet Stop Oct 2015
entering arms entwined
a state of grace

offer you body warmth
to burn us together for always

tongue licks your love
the buds of taste blossom yet again

chest beating thrum
celebrates your continued existence

fingers tease you at the junctures
that pleasure reveals the magi's adoration

but

I love you best with
the love of words,
for this is the poet's way,
condense
touch sight sounds smell sensual
into what words he can give that

cost so much, held so dear,

that it is the
cherish

that
is
the
best
of
him
Oct 24, 2015
7:48 am
deep within
Venus in Scorpio Nov 2017
I met her on Instagram

She told me she was a fan of my work

And as our dialogue continued we realized how similar we are

She didn’t live far

So we met up in the city

Her eyes sparkling like stars in the night sky

Or should I say embers of the inferno her mind produces

A spiritual girl with a sharp tongue

She refuses to drink from plastic bottles

Her hair a melody of colors

And her skin as soft as Cashmere

We toured art museums

Gazed at monuments together

She tells me she’s obsessed with love

Already my heads spinning

And I’m wondering If I will make it out alive with her

we spent the entire day submerged in analytical discourse

On what it means to be alive

Our experiences

How little time

We only came up for air

when our eyes linked

And we stared

She says to me

“That's a nice thought you’re having”

Exercising her intuitive prowess

I laughed and wondered if she really knew

of the storm that exists in my mind

my face like a window with the shades pulled away

It was getting late

and we were both exhausted from the stimulation we gave each other

Of course, I wanted her to stay

I’ve been waiting for a woman like this

And there she was in all her beauty

I grabbed her hand

She says

“Can you take my glasses off before you kiss me?”

The nerve

She knew what I wanted

But I know she wanted it too

And so I denied it to her

I didn’t want to give her the satisfaction

I said,

“With all the instant gratification our modern society presents, its
refreshing to delay certain things, wouldn’t you agree?”

She laughed and agreed

We hugged goodbye tightly

It hurt to let her go

I watched her off as she danced goofily on the escalator

As she vanished I stood

motionless

Like I’d been struck by lightning

Peering closely as if I’d see her face one more time

She was gone for good

And all at once this dream was over

I sat on the train that night replaying her voice in my head

She could be the one I said

Oh this lie I told myself was so sweet

In the beginning

And now bitter in the end
William D Hearns May 2018
One glossy raven perched, stately,
atop a snowy hill, Unearthly Long flowing wings, hanging down the *****, framing the hill
on the face of which,
were interposed two glacial ponds of blue.
Between these pools ran a simple strip of sloped marble,
But at the base of this was the most gentle depression in the snow.
In disbelief I observed two rows of strawberries, blossoming,
heavy laden with the richest red.
Each gentle bite of these more delicious than the last.
I continued my survey,
down to a long narrow hill of the freshest snow.
Here I came upon a wide expanse, a plain,
two long, slender berms extended at opposite sides.
But this was no true plain, and all the better for that,
For two equal mounds of snow enchanted the landscape.
The setting sun cast a pink light at the peak of each pale globe,
So beautiful I wept.
As I passed between their valley the snowy distance continued.
I observed an infinitesimal sloping on the Western and Eastern edges.
This expanse, perfect of any true blemish, was punctuated by the shallowest little empty pond at its narrowest width; which only served to enhance the beauty.
The length of this snowed plain was far greater than its width, the edges slowly creeping into the narrowest part before flaring out to a wide expanse.
And there in the lowlands was The Delta,
to the side of which extended two of the longest and most shapely tapering ridges I had ever observed;
each ending with graceful peaks.
But that Delta!
Though snowy, the darkest , shortest scrub had capped its mound.
At the apex of The Delta was a precipice,
on its face a cavern, pink walls glistening with wetness,
at the caverns base, a cave.
Its tunnel, with walls ribbed, was warm and humid despite the landscape of snow.
This is the landscape I cherish most.
Anna Oct 2018
Random gestures of love
Random gestures of kindness
That light up my day
Like that one time
You said that you loved me
For no particular reason
Unrelated to anything happening
At that moment.

My heart filled with warmth
And a smile found its way
To my pale, usually dull face.
I looked up and said that I loved you as well,
And true happiness bloomed
In my fragile heart
After weeks of drought
After weeks of emptiness.

And my smile was so bright
And I felt so warm
You could have mistaken me
For the sun itself.
And we, sun and moon,
Were the only ones that mattered,
For earth could not affect us.

But then the incident never repeated
And instead of love
I got glares and silence
And your happiness continued
To feed on my own
As your hands continued to take
Every last bit of pleasure
I had to offer.

And as every sun sets,
I sank in the sea
of blue and grey
As I transcended into the mundane routine
Of being lonely when with you
For your arms do not wrap me with warmth
But only
Anger.

The sun and the moon
Live afar.
They complete one another
Yet they do not meet
And when they do
All light drains from the sun
An eclipse.
March 2018
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