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I have seen you posing in pictures,
But i wish to see you smiling in front. I have heard your sound,
I wish to feel the depth of your voice whispering in my ears.
I have seen your eyes from far,
But I wish to have a contact with the gleaming ones.
I have heard songs sung by you,
I wish to have them as the background music of my life.
I have seen your hands playing guitar,
But I wish to hold them as we step forward with time.
I have seen you only in my mobile screen,
And many wishes still crave for your magical presence.
Randi G Dec 2014
You told me that you have
Over one million hair follicles
And I believe you.
I do.
But, if it’s okay, I’ve never counted
To one million before.
I heard it takes a really long time,
But after I count all of the spots
The hair grows out of you,
I want to count all your freckles
And connect them like constellations.
You’re just like the universe to me
And each freckle is a star.
There are lots of stars we can’t
See with the ***** eye,
But I want to find those too.
If that’s okay.
ren Aug 2016
Hearing the fuzz of the static between the lines as you laugh nervously: It feels like waking up to a child who has found your acrylic paints, who is brushing hasty strokes of posey on your cheeks -

Like half-heartedly composing your poise on a river rock, holding your center, knowing if you lose your steady, you have to fall,

Fall into something that feels like first breath of air you breathe when you step off a train, knowing yesterday is gone, knowing the person you are now is ready to embark.
She Writes Aug 2018
While they count sheep
I count stars

- The upside to insomnia
Tommy Randell Mar 2017
3 Walking the path
2 Is not being the path
1 Ready Aim Fire!
ciara Sep 2018
and i just casually count the minutes
from when we last spoke and i
count
count
count
and the number gets bigger,
bigger.

im too scared to answer
if i answer
i have to lie about how i don't love you
so i
count
count
count
count my life away.
the minutes stays at
one.
and i give in.
Maxine Nov 2017
Precious baby, counting sheep.
Tell me why your eyes can’t sleep?

Sweet baby..
No sheets.
This is different, not so sweet.

Darling baby, you can only laugh.
Memories they stay,
like Mary on stained glass.
overcoming the enemy
Fay Kim Oct 2018
One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

I see my flaws at the door
You're shaking their hands and letting them in.
I sit so close - skin to skin while you discuss my chopped hair and tarnished skin
Blandly discussing how you want me thin.

Five.

Six.

I blame the mirror for making me like this.
Counting the marks that don't look so beautiful - don't shine or sparkle.
Fighting the tears and biting my lip
I look at you with reassuring eyes.

Seven.

Eight.

Nine.


I don't think you ever wanted to be mine.


Ten.
Elizabeth Zenk Aug 2018
Four halves
No wholes
One father
No dad
Two wrong moves
Three plus two
Five broken lives
painting pictures
of grief on
different canvases.
Add up where I went wrong
Francie Lynch Dec 2018
I know whose toes
Are curled and peeking out below:
Beneath their nose,
Under lips,
Lower than their waist and hips;
Past their knees and their shins-
Toes they’ll use to count to ten.
Better yet,
With our twins,
They’ll count to twenty to begin,
Then move to forty without linger,
Counting on each other’s fingers.
Toes and fingers, fingers and toes,
Twenty wee wigglers they’ve come to know,
With twenty strong fingers to catch and throw.
For now we’ll rhyme toes off to market,
And play Pat-a-Cake
With Ophie and Brigid.
Ophelia and Brigid, eight months. Granddaughters.
CK Baker Feb 2017
it falls through the glow of the wintery trees
building a cover under the breeze
luminous lights sparkle and hatch
snow pack high on the briar patch

pine cones fall from majestic fir
squirrel and robin rustle and stir
sitka spruce at tunnel bluffs
ravens roost on cedar rough

dusted peaks at hurley pass
snowline cuts the avalanche
fox and lynx are on the prowl
hollow eyes from spotted owl

cool winds up the valley trail
whirling snow from diamond vale
chilling flakes in candle hands
moonlight shines across the land

northern lights in krypton green
the sounds of verve are bitter sweet
curtains hang on a cold dark sky
counting stars, a lullaby
Terry Collett Nov 2018
We counted the hours,
then the days,
then weeks, then months,
my son, now the years
mount up with heavy load,
since your death;
yet we remember,
always shall,
each moment,
always will
without fail.

We count the times
you made us smile;
recall your humour
and wicked wit;
remember your Stoic views,
your sense of morals,
your understanding
of the human traits
both good and bad;
the things that
made you smile
or made you sad.

We count our own
memories of you,
each one our own,
each sense of
what we lost,
and count the cost.

Years have slipped by;
days, weeks,
months, now years,
but that sad event,
my son, is still as raw
as it was before.
A father talks to his dead son
Philomena Dec 2018
One two
Well look at you
Three Four
Always begging for more
Five six
But I'm all out of tricks
Seven Eight
So full of hate
Nine Ten
So I just wont breathe again
I like to read it going over each of the numbers with a breath in and then a breath out but thats just me. Guess i'm just tried of taking instruction from people who don't understand.
Count down the days, dear, Until I fall into place here.
I will be upstairs til then, looking for new ways to process the old days.

Gift wrapped and red penned, I wish I could stay here.
Call off the search on me now. You know where I'll be found. (6 feet underground) Darling just look down.

I knew I'd find you here, It seems all so clear just like your favorite song. ringing for o so long. I know you had to go but I didn't think it'd be so soon.

Count down the days, dear, until I fall into place here.
beside you now. beside you now.
inspired and heavily copied from Meridian if I dare tell the truth.
Amanda Nov 2018
She
Counts
Her shots
With sharpie
On her arm, tick tick
The alcohol swirls inside her.
It can **** you, you know that, if you keep taking them.

She
Waits,
Ignores.
Breathes in smoke.
The substances coursing
Through her veins. The two, a yin-yang
Teasing each other, now giving balance to her world.

Feel
Your
Burning
Cheeks flushing
Under the dim lights.
Are you still counting them tonight?
What are you trying to escape from? Him? Or yourself?
Jessica Jan 8
I stand next to you as the timer counts down
In Atlanta
5...4...3...2...1...
Happy New Year!!!
You walk away as you text someone
I’m left standing alone, and immersed
In the center of the room
Solidly, solely accepting you
I can imagine how awkward
You feel
As I look down at your shoes
Hmmm...your red vans, your rip jeans
Your eyes, I can’t see
Hold my hand and calm me
Remind me what it’s like to have
You in my car
(I have a bag of your clothes in my backseat)
Listening to music and singing
As you’re aware of my mind
Reeling with worry
You were in a hurry, Rose
Where’d you go?
I use to count the days as if you had them
Numbered
5...4...3...2...1...
Jake O'Donnell Jun 2017
Currently online.

Two chat heads active.
My fragile heart though, in one.

Friends online: 87.
Last seen: 16:43.
Really, ignoring me?

But who are you talking to?
Delivered. Delivered. Is this deliberate?
Are you busy, are you with someone? Who is he?
Don't you see what you do to me?

— Minutes since message sent: 320 or more,
Years together: best part of four.
I’m not counting but
Is he the one from your instagram?

Friends nearby: 6.
Last seen: 23:55.
Nevermind.

Flick up to clear all apps,
And with that my heart,

Night.
tetameta Oct 2018
i'm counting
this twenty
the stars in the skies

i can
see the sun
feel the warmth on my skin
relax now
let some of these guards down

all that time had to be wasted - i learned a lot

how
to give myself a break
not to beat myself
to give and take
to treat myself

my flesh and bone
this fuel in my lungs
a bucket of ambitions
it only needs a spark
Helena Abondano Aug 2018
I'm a shameless liar
Thoughts
lost in translation
(Softly)
consumed by the fire
Trying to see through the haze
exhaling is dire
I was counting on you to find
My Telephone wire

But don't worry, love
Any words I could have said have been said (before)
So sorry if I seem quiet tonight, love
the trembling in my voice
Shaking lips and broken words
Are worth the itching in my tongue
Nobody May 2018
I welcome the silence from the middle of the night;
I was counting on the cover of darkness,
but look up to see a full moon, giving me a watchful eye.
I unsheath my pistol, but decide it will be too loud,
I don’t want to leave any witnesses behind;
so I slip into your tent, without making a sound.
Smile as I see you lying helpless in a dream,
walking closer to your bed;
I start crawling on the ground.
Slowly slide my blade out,
stealth like a cat;
It's quiet as a tomb.
I’m inches from your face,
close enough to smell your breath.
I place the cold metal to your neck,
swing my arm once to the side;
your blood is black in the moonlight,
gushing all over my hands.
You wake and grab your throat,
start swallowing blood, and choke.
I watch you try and put up a fight,
you squirm, and stare, with dying eyes.
So I stick you another time,
in the side right through your heart.
Warm blood licks my face,
too bad it took more than one slice;
for your body to go limp.
Finally your death has come,
I’m free from the burden of your grip.
Tammy M Darby Oct 2014
What do you think  xy would do?
If he dressed in red and high black shoes.
One fine summer day A = B met
Exactly alike in elements
Produced their own sets

With a ...
Everything keeps on going.
Out jumps { },
Nothing is showing.

So natural numbers are the same as counting
What other kinds are there?
Tell us quickly please
The tension is mounting

Did you say members or elements?
Are there many?
What a find.
Infinite or finite sets,
Numbers in a line

Taking the time,
Oh woeful occasion.
The struggle of learning
Mathematical expressions.

This poem is copyrighted and stored in author base. All material subject to Copyright Infringement laws
Section 512(c)(3) of the U.S. Copyright
Act, 17 U.S.C. S512(c)(3), Tammy M. Darby Oct. 22, 2014
5,322
5,323
one day at a time.
Daisy Marrow Jun 2014
You lay in a field of flowers counting each bird that passes overhead.
You've erased concern and decided to live for the moment because you always would say, "we might be dead by tomorrow."
Flowers grew from your heart and bloomed across your lungs,
creating a garden that sang the most beautiful hymns,
while my garden was withering.
Each breath you took was never wasted,
but I couldn't help but count mine like they were birds passing overhead.
Every night you would view the stars and moon with pure amazement as if it was your first time seeing them.
You gave all your love to me and each kiss was coined in my pocket.
You fell in love with me every night and I fell for all your hymns.
Soon enough the world would pass us by but I wouldn't blink because I could live off your touch for the rest of my time.
You showed me there is more in life than just one color,
but instead, the world is a whole painting with colors that can't be described.
You showed me just how beautiful the world was.
You taught me how to grow beauty from my eyes but lately, I've been dreaming and falling for stars.
Imagining what it'd be like slow dancing with the planets, getting lost in constellations.
But I'm just not ready to go yet however I do not control time.
You showed me that dying can be beautiful.
That we'll be okay because when we leave we all become one with the earth and one with nature.
So love, love me until time runs out,
until I become one with nature.

And many years later as time starts to fly by and you slowly start to watch your clock tick down, you'll know where to find me, my love.
I'll be up with stars.
Somewhere lost in the cosmos.
I'll be spinning with the planets dreaming about what it would feel like to be able to walk on flowers again.
2014
CK Baker Jul 2017
They weren’t all cut from the same cloth
vilified tenders of an iron *****
some were lovers
or lucid dreamers
stage romantics
hidden under jackboots
and skull caps
and switchblade seams

Caste members of a forlorn pack
counting their patchwork and deeds
conjuring demons
around the console
filling their dreams
with radio reds
and dusted quarries
and faded sepia prints

Brass knuckles
and marches of the few
lightening bolt cracks
from a chilling blood moon
death’s dark specter
cold and ominous looms
the cobalt sea swells
near the nestled, and lost
Clubhouse at Kiusta
Show us some light, Mr Jimmy
AUGUST Nov 2018
Sitting on the corner while Starring
At the glances of your smile all over
Cover the room by your face unveiling
Up to this moment, I want to be near,
(you were a mile from here)

Thinking It was cloudy on my mind,
But when you are here by my side
You are making my day as bright
Showing the beauty behind,
(They have nothing to hide,
nothing to hide.)

How deep is the ocean trenches?
How far is the stars throughout the abyss?
How much warm is your embraces?
How much cold Is your lips to kiss?

l don’t much care about counting all of these,
As long as you are with me, you are my bliss

(I could tell,) heaven’s gate is not the place of happiest
And angels are not those prettiest,
Indeed, God is always be the wisest,
For sending me a fallen angel, I’ve caught the brightest, the brightest

Lately, You stole what between these lungs
You open my chest, You let it pour, my bleeding heart
I cant deny, how i feel, you are my crush
I have been stunned on Your eye lashes, (glances, perfume scents, and blushes)

How deep is the ocean trenches?
How far is the stars throughout the abyss?
How much warm is your embraces?
How much cold Is your lips to kiss?

Do I have to care about all of that anymore,
As long as you are with me, what should I have to ask for?

Emerald, jade, diamond, gold and silver,
I guess nothing is forever, unless me and you
In this world of deception, anyone can be a liar
Just remember, Nothing is to fear, I am always here.
.......I am always here.
Honestly, I did not know what is sonnet and how to make one, but I did it unconsciously. It is true that poets have a universal language in terms of making thier poems.

This was Dedicated for Margaret
lysco Mar 7
I took myself from from city to city
To pursue my dreams as tall as skyscrapers
But with more freedom comes more precaution
And all the safety nets set around couldn’t catch me from the fall

Mom told me to not forget about the top lock of my door at night
Dad said to always tell a friend when I’m heading out
I’ve learned not to ride the subway alone after 5 pm
But I needed someone to tell me that I did the right thing

I navigated my nights through pavements and grids
I found myself in the Upper East side, the streets shifting beneath my feet
Bacardi dictating each of my steps, but making no difference when I danced
I was always told to never trust a back alley, but no one warned me about a dance floor

I stumble my way onto the street, change scattered all over 72nd
I count the pennies like I count sheep, usually I’m out by 30
Hailing a cab, with him right beside me
My head rests on his shoulder along with the thought of good intentions

His apartment had a remarkable view of the skyline, but I can’t look at it the same
The Empire State reminds me of bruises on my thighs and muffled screams
My night faded in and out from flickering kitchen lights and cold linoleum flooring
But the next morning clarity hit
Veiled with excuses
Confusion
Regret
Shame
They say the NYPD are the finest in the world
But I sit in this cold, stale building reflecting on the night before
My mascara still smeared and a rip in my tights

“Is this what you were wearing?”
“How much exactly did you have to drink”
“You agreed to go to his apartment though”
“How often do you go home with strangers?”

My throat is tight
Everything I say is taken and twisted
Eyes glaring at me with low-brows
And the smell of burnt coffee
Trust draining out my body as color drains from my face
I’m ripping through the safety nets, one by one

Unable to take their judgemental gaze, I look up at the ceiling
Answering questions
I think to myself, “Was this moment in a cold police station even worth the fight?”
Was this cry for help from one terrible night worth the trauma they’ve caused from doubt
It’s unbelievable that I would have to rationalize which event was worse

I just needed someone to tell me I did the right thing.

I can’t look at them
I still look up and answer questions
That time spent counting each tile on the ceiling until it was over,
when i should have been counting sheep,
hoping I can wake up and this was just a dream,
but I keep counting…

100, 200, 300..
I hope you get the justice you deserve.

Co-written with Dallas @stoopkid .
gunshots in the night
fires so bright i see stars in your eyes
poetry is our only property
properly used its a legacy
no development
can stand on these legs
so fend for yourself
against the hedges of witches
all our stitches are reversible these days
so stay awake and count dragons
magicians and scoundrels are casting spells
against the edges of your horizon
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