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Osiria Melody Mar 21
how can you find me
when i can't find myself?



Melody
3/21/19
what writer's block is.
Thomas C Sep 15
Like a droplet in a river we travel. No clue of direction.
Yet we ever flow through the path carved out of us by an entity unknown.
Slowly we reach, yet unaware of it, to our destination.
Then we fall, by the millions unto the next flow of life.
Callie Richter May 2018
i have oh so many
trust issues now
i cant help but expect
people to leave
"but not everybody leaves"
he says to me daily
the hardest part is not
being able to know from
the start
what their intentions are
but you have to stay away
to protect your  heart
from breaking yet again
i have found a way you can
save yourself
you just have to stay away
from
everyone
bakunawa Apr 2018
W                            e                        s          ­   t             a           r          t         e      d            f       a       r          a       w     a      y      f    r   o   m     e  a  c h   o t h er now wehavenowhereelsetogobutruntogether but no o n e   r e a l  i  s  e   d     t    h    a    t      w    e      s    h   a    l     l       a      l     w      a       y       s         b        e         d        r        i         f         t           e        r        s         r      u        n          n          i         n        g            t      o       w      a       r      d         w    h    a    t     l  o ve nextoffers.
Love shall always have it's directions and misdirections---- But it shall never be left nor right, not even correct or wrong, just together and apart.
Kira Sep 2018
She looks in the mirror and sees a mistake, a broken girl with no direction, a girl who does not deserve love or happiness, no way to cover the ugliness.
She hates her personality, she hates her face, she hates all the things that she cannot change. She wishes that everything she saw in the mirror would simply fade away.

I looked at her with only admiration for the beauty I saw in her soul. She was perfect in my eyes. She was everything I could never be. I loved her with everything that I am, but I was nothing compared to the truth in the mirror.
If only we could see ourselves through others eyes.
Ezzah Saleem Jan 2018
A sailor and an artist on boat.
They fell for each other in the middle of the oceans, under the sky.
Directions lost and silence felt,
The sailor kept moving,
The artist kept painting,
The sailor watched the lanterns rise in sky
The artist then painted the scene on the canvas.
For nothing more mattered to them
Then time and place they met,
The heavenly love created a beautiful memory of that of them,
That could not be erased.
A love without letters and flowers.
A journey of memories, that would be with them always and forever.
That is how a sailor and an artist met.
Eno Sep 2018
Theres still 5 more lives
Connecting and disconnecting
In this scene
An American diner
In south west England
Sat in a booth
That holds thousands of shared
Experiences
And narratives that only we feel
With characters we played and knew
There’s no stronger drug
Than those things humans have collectively been through
But I didn’t think of this
When I looked at you
Magnanimous
Stupendous
Gallant
Eloquent
I’d never seen you look this good
Not in years
You’ve just upgraded
Your vehicle in life
No paper boy bicycle
Doing the rounds
But a brand new direction
You don’t need to worry for the next 3 years
Joined a scheme that will take you where you want to be
I wished it was me
Wayward Jul 2018
What is it about you that haunts me?
I let you go so I can set you free.
You meant everything to me and we were forever,
But it isn't our time to be together.  

I was completely lost before I met you.
You gave me reason to live and direction to follow.
But now we're back at square one,
And the loneliness has already begun.

I promised you I'd never leave.
You promised never to let go of me.
Yet here we are, far apart in distance and in thought.
I wonder how we'd be if we hadn't fought.

Blocking is a blessing, and you used it well.
I regret my decision, now I'm in hell.
A life without you, is no life at all.
I just wish you'd pick up my call.

With several attempts I lost faith.
I think it's goodbye, this is our fate.
I'll always wonder if I made a mistake,
If I could've avoided all our heartache.

                                                     ­             -Wayward❤
I didn't really know how else to let go of my emotions. Its really bad, I agree, but I needed some sort of an outlet for the hurt I was feeling. Much love.

*Update*
It's really sad that so many of you can relate to this poem. I'm so sorry for whatever you're going through. Stay safe loves!
MAN
Paranoia
and Fear

although,

I am,
just here...

every direction is a miscalculation
every direction is a miscalculation
every direction is a miscalculation


every direction is a miscalculation
every direction is a miscalculation
every direction is a miscalculation


every direction is a miscalculation
every direction is a miscalculation
every direction is a miscalculation
*

I
fall
the moment I lay my eyes on you,
it was like putting another stone on stomp,
I buried your soul from the first heavy stair
like I'm extracting your innocence,
this is how I became a fisher of men.
Using words to finish what lord made.

All we do is Catch fish.
The mall, Campus even the street are the only occean we live in.

Next.
I decided to use a first person narrative, hoping it will be more intimate.
ऊ सुनमा पीतल मिसाउछ

मलाई टुलुटुलु हेर्न निर्देशन गर्छ
साउन ६ को अखवार
Genre: Experimental
Theme: निशब्द
Isaac Aug 2018
how are you meant
to know what to do
with this one life
which you cannot undo
there is so much
to this thing called reality
getting everything right
seems far from practicality
i'm doing my best
like so many of us are
i just need direction
before i travel too far
Written 26 August 2018
MaxiM Aug 2018
Your gut is the compass.
Your knowledge is the landscape.
Your mind is the map.
Maxim21: Direction
Tom Spencer Jul 2015
Summer morning -
pink jets of clouds
splash out
from the golden well of the east
falling just short
of an ebbing moon.

Streams of swallows
flutter and glide
over the garden -
they are all flying
in the same direction
as if erupting

from the sun’s waking pulse.
Just for a moment
one of the birds hangs
perfectly still -
like the top-most drop of water
from a fountain before it turns

to face the glittering pool.
Beneath them all
the hummingbird
makes her rounds
and a dove scratches the earth
below the feeder

keeping an wary eye
on the scribbling intruder.
So many summer mornings -
too many summer mornings
I have wasted
worrying about the world

and my place in it –
absent from my own body
and breath
the cage of my ribs
rising, falling, and pausing
without me. Meanwhile,

another swallow
stills her wings.
Buoyed by an unseen breeze
she is both feathered sail
and cresting wave as she slices
over my shoulder bearing west.


Tom Spencer © 2015
Of which I promised this Forthcoming Gift
That Low-Resolved Program you often play
Mine of Sum's Direct robbed my Basics shift
Could make my Allowance afford one day
Till then, master those Memes and Squarish Crew
And ask your Score teemed to accumulate
I know you can do it, Technocrat Blue
And rake those Creepers down confusticate
Or shall I, along the mean, Journal's Writ
Ask for more Hints over Direction rough
You, Controlling-E, fly Normal's out-of-it
Conclude my Patience to nearly enough.
I'll trust the Swede with his Awards advance
Then I'll Trust you; With those Talents enhance.
Bullet Oct 2018
I lived through these worlds
Some I've eased
Some are permanently marked
These years determining
Failure or Success
Directions leave me etch-a-sketching
A destiny at a desk
Make sure that ***** is in the right dress
Before you gain more to lose n' you leave with less

I can't stop thing of
The demons that have
Laid dormant
All the people have
Entered my door
Just to leave dirt on the door mat

People come and go
Nothing lasts forever
Love, lust, n' lost friends
Have no longevity
I'm stuck in this frame of mind due to the gravity
Hopefully one day I'll leave this painted picture
Then life will maybe stop torturing me
I'll be able to have gave it my all

21 dimensions I now have to mention
Too everyone who enters my attention
Tension between me n' reality
I'm tightly strained in the mind
The 22nd might be my last
All it takes is 20 seconds
To lose a life
Doesn't mean I can't write these wrongs
To be right  
Traveling across dimensions
This will be my 22nd
Hope I will be set or
* will be placed
Welcome to my home
Where years determine
Details directing me
Towards these new dimensions
Poetic T Jun 9
Gazing within
I see only misdirection.

I'm at a crossroads of
                                Self.


But I want to go in two
           Directions.
      
So here I am looking at
        The sunset.
      As the moon rises.

And realise that every direction
          Is one I can take.
    I just have to take my time.
The tide of time did not touch him favourably,
He suddenly lost his youth and exuberance;
He could now only wait and only wait
For his dreams to unwind and spoil him
All the more extravagantly,
He could seek his past to guide him;
He was alone, he said.

He did not forget the sunshine and the moonlight
And the delight he shared with others
But he could not share his pain,
He had no words to describe that plight,
And he did not let his strings of thought float or splay
As he tested the wind and its direction;
He was rudderless, he said.

He had studied his mind,
He was aware of its apparent movements or states
As the painful and non-painful moods;
That could not be wished away.
All he needed was a direction to find his way,
He had waited for the inner light to burn brightly;
He can scale heights, he said.
Christian Ek Jun 2014
Disappointment is thrown strongly at my direction.
Blame gathers in large quantities like a pest infestation.
"It's your fault" and words like "You always make mistakes" evoke anger.
Anger which I want to take out on myself and take out on others.
I can excel in my work of choice, I know I'm more than average.
The bad gets pointed out more and little praise is given for the good.
Stunned by unmoving words. I'm like a prisoner sentenced to jail, released and expected to do worse.
Destruction emerges from my enraged emotions, i wish your words could offer a solution.
I want to be an alchemist and turn things into gold.
It's ironic how I am a creator of words but cant create better words in my critics.
Conversations lead to arguments because i want to be heard.
I'm sick of revolving doors, sick of being slammed by your atrocious comments.
"You have no common sense" you say to me, maybe I just prefer to be in a daydream, my mind drifting away because life is too dull.
Realize that what you say has an effect and that effect can drive somebody or stop them in motion.
Antino Art Sep 2018
Who draws strength
from watching the passage of time
after dark
blur against the windows
of a moving train bound
for ends uncertain.

Who walks most balanced
on the beams of empty tracks.

In the shuffle of strangers
at a crosswalk, who finds
direction.

Who sees
clearer through rain.

Who finds their place
in the limbo of airport terminals,
on delayed flights
between chapters,
over open roads that branch
into tales of cities unseen,
in the turn of pages unwritten.

Who can keep track of time
during the improvised chaos of jazz,
catching notes scattered
in the winds of horns.

Who understands
that wind moves
fastest through dark places like tunnels,
during storms in late August.

Who finds their center
hurled in flight,
always coming and going.
Storm flight trains movement
That was different
Then i expected it to be
You walk away
And return to my back
Always
How long will it take
Was almost There
For you to keep on walking
In the opposite way
Maybe it will be now
Or never
Who knows
But before I can love you
I first have to get rid of you
Lost in a relation that is not a relationship
TD Aug 12
The shape of your oceans'
crescent moons and trumpets cast
exude music insipid--inspired
mellifluous, austere, untamed.

Their restless hands raised,
lilting rivulets
emboldened, brash.

In the shallows
coaxing sighs from darting thoughts
curved lips that sip at soul-searching.

In the deep
your presence billows, gapes
the lustrous strands of time
lapping at the shore
pillaging our rocky clefts.

Your form
free, like words that
slick the pages of our moments
steeped in yesteryears
dark with depth, boundless.

If I plunder your lines
seek out the sullen darkness
tread your sunlit blues,
dare I? Should I?

Amid your tempting swells
and endless salutations
I'm prone to lose sight
of what is more than oceans
and what is less than real.

Yet, you are the tears that linger
in the peripheral,
the million eyes
meeting their purpose
on a stormy night.

And I begin to build
my rudderless vessel
in hopes of catching a glimpse
of your veiled treasures
because I can't find my own.

-waves,
Sabila Siddiqui Dec 2018
When you lay there
thinking your life does not matter,
every exhalation meaningless
every unfaltered lub dub wasted.
Go out there
and make a difference in someone's life.

Help,
be compassionate
give yourself a sense of purpose.

Because it is then
when you will breathe life
into your life.

When you will find
yourself grounded and rooted
rather than swaying like the wind
and allowing time
to slip like grains of sand unnoticed.

Allow fluffy clouds
of magical wisps
to fill your head
and propel you forward
to fill you with color
and life.

So choose to bring peace and joy
to someone else and yourself
for you will not be just be surviving
but bringing significant difference
in your own beautiful way.
Path Humble Jun 2014
you stand on your own two legs

you stand straight,
begin wherever fate
has you fall in,
but well remember,
wherever the line dance snakes to, 
direction and destination,
you remain you-true,
on your own humble path,
be ever-wary of the snakes
traveling along side you
J Feb 12
I kept running away.
But no matter which
direction I go, I don’t
know if it’s the right
way. When I feel that
I found the right way,
I can’t seem to go
too far.

Maybe I left my heart
at the place where
I gave it to you, and
you left it there, too.
Right. Right. Left. Left.
It doesn’t matter.
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