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sara Jun 2018
Oh, to be a poet
one must be so emotional.
Well, no. Not necessarily.
We're only really capable
of understanding feeling,
investigating our emotions.
It doesn't mean we cry all day,
or pass nights in dark rooms moping.

We have lives; come home from work
or get in on a night bus back;
it's from all this experience
that we can draw out fact.
From mundane to extraordinary
we will become inspired.
Our strength is versatility
and life ignights our fires.

So, we do not all have to be
constricted to intensity
-to ponder oh-so seriously
on what it simply means 'to be'.
We can be strong, flirty, or mean
or to the brim with confidence.
For, what does 'to be a poet' mean,
if you cannot explore yourself?
'Our strength is versatility' is something I feel is very important and sometimes forgotten among stereotypes of what poetry should be about
Sophia Apr 2018
how far must she travel
to rediscover
her purpose
her purpose
what a preposterous concept

neither rest nor return
are purpose

neither love nor hate
are purpose

neither this nor that
so then what
what is it
what is the answer
to this unquantifiable question

perhaps it rests
in the caverns of her dreams
in the caverns of her subconscious
synesthetic
mind
seeing colors for numbers
and mango puddles in the rain

it was always her imaginative spirit
that activated her forehead
which wrinkled with the tides of
hurt pain sadness glory god

and she was told
to soften that sternness
soften it until she was nonexistent

but instead she asked
what are these things
what are their purpose
besides drinking foreheads and wringing potential
and piping out excuses for this and for that
for crimson activities and
claret affairs
Ztef Jul 2016
I like to travel like how one falls in love;
To feel everything deeply and cherish moments,
To understand what is foreign and appreciate its beauty-  
consumed by emotions all at once, and still be brave enough to explore...
For after all, travel and love are both deep forms of art.
Daisy Marrow Jan 2014
You feel like you're a million miles away
far from me
at another place where I can't be.
I wish I could see you.
I wish I knew what your voice sounded like.
Let the ocean waves roll over
and let the sun set so the stars will appear,
and be my guide to you.

I just haven't met you yet,
but when I do
I'll never leave your arms
because you'll be my coming home.

In the dead of morning
you'll be there with two cups of tea.
There wouldn't be anything I didn't love about you.
I hope your eyes shine
when you look at the world.
You notice how there is so much to explore
and you'll be left craving more.
You'd suggest we adventure out
and I would already have your bags pack
and be halfway out the door.

I would never get mad at you.
Not even when you spill your coffee
all over my poetry.
I'll smile and kiss your frown away
telling you that it's okay.

There isn't anything I wouldn't tell you.
We'd bury our secrets together in our backyard garden.
We would sleep so close together at night,
fearing the edge of the bed.
We would everything and nothing.
We would never let our love for each other grow hungry.

The stars always shine brighter when I think about you.
Do you see how they shine?
That is all for you.
I know I'm still young but I can't wait to meet you one day.
I know you're out there
dreaming about the day you'll meet someone.
I hope that person you think about is me.
Even though you don't know me yet.
But that day will come and it'll go down in history books,
trust me.
2014
Robin Lemmen Nov 2018
And it is tiresome to think
But most of all I drown in sad
Knowing you will never know, me
Like I wish, like I know you could have
To explore my midnight tendrils
To watch me, be
Broken wishes that left scars on my skin
Explore boundaries knowing
Home awaits inside my arms
It is tiresome, so tiresome
To always ponder and dream
Stuck on wishful thinking
So, please
Don't paint me troubled
Think of me in pastels, a breath of spring air
After the confusion of winter's numbness has melted away
Robin Lemmen Jul 2018
You are liquid fire
Come, sit down
let me have a sip
I do am parched
Come, lay down
next to me
Let me explore
your body made of matches
I am made of pure
burning
golden desire
Come, take me down
We do burn so beautifully
after 2 am
in the morning light
Daisy Marrow Sep 2013
Oh, you were a book that I never have read
and ask anyone I have read them all.
I studied your cover and fell in love with your spine.
Oh, let me read you
let me explore your mind.

You were an album
and I loved all your songs.
I could sing them none stop all day long
and they would never get old,
not a single one.

You were my favorite flower
and I was a selfish kid
that wanted to pick you,
and keep you all to myself instead.

But you were a song
I had stuck in my head
I sang along until night when I crashed in bed.
We fit together just listen to our harmony.
Come on over
and keep me company.
You can bring your guitar and I'll bring mine
we'll be an unstoppable duet
just you & I
Robin Lemmen Jan 27
It still scares me. The thought of being laid down by loving hands, gazing up at kind and gentle eyes. To feel safe in the arms of a long-ago stranger with a heartbeat now familiar as my own. I am mortified to undress and not hide the skin I was told would never be good enough. To not fear for these marks to make you uncomfortable. I am sorry if I may not be what you wished for me to be. It still scares me to trust the words of ones I love. They would never mean any harm, but humans are faulted. Flawed at heart. There simply is nothing to be said for the wounds healed over by salted tears. So I stray from your line of sight. Believe me, this is for your own good. Veer from the possibilities of infinite. This ache is no more than a temporary glimmer of what used to be called hope. An abandoned carnival, full of stories and ghosts hoping to find belonging. I am always taunted by the dark. Even if I still may call it home. Won't you come in? My doors are wide open. I can promise you sight and glory. I can promise forever and mean it too, but beware my empty promises. A beautiful painting. Won't you come and see my mismatch of watered down colors? Only those daring have seen my oceanic storms. The blues and black's that stand stark and lonely like wrote war-zones in my soul. Please come closer. It still scares me, but won't you? Come, won't you play haunted house with me?
She explored worlds only known
To those who had patience and perseverance
A world without visuals yet gave sight
To those willing to create it
A world filled with diverse people
Who all shared the same voice
A world so loud in words
Without making a single noise
She had many worlds she could explore
Too many for her to decide
Each new world lined up on the shelf
Aligned with past adventures to remind
Angelina Aug 2017
The more you seek the more you know
Whether it be in an upstate penthouse
Or a lavender tree surrounded bungalow
The mind, an unfathomable garden of planted scriptures, undefined.

The heart yelps, the voices blow  
Initiative galore of intriguing canvases follow
One does not see, one does not hear
But sense is beyond the limits of sorrow

I would like to see, I would like to hear
Albeit constant delusions of fear
Created to seek what's beyond the border
I rest in assurance, one day the tendency of denial won't wander
Jarene Jan 9
***
i thought
***
was supposed to be
beautifully passionate
the exploration
of two souls
but what is
***
when it is selfishly
lustful
when all you see
is a hot
body
a temporary
object
and nothing more
nothing below the surface
Black surges, forges piling emotion,
Foraging, attaining such predicted erosion.
Color the rubies to a diluted amber,
Brittle, dripped gems are toxic, I clamber
To the lamp as to see my implicit devotion.

Vitals ascend, and I can't perceive
This motionless forfeit I often receive.
Aid is essential, it holds potential,
To cure this conflicted, addicted vessel.
My heart on my sleeve, I'm undeceived.

I implore to explore, as breath, I leave,
So close to dying, I'm on the eve
Of darker clothing, and flowers to family,
Hallucinate my abnormalities.
Yet somehow, I am still on my feet-
All feedback is welcome and appreciated.
Rob Rutledge May 2012
Take only what you can carry,
Only what you need.
Just enough to feed and water
You and a faithful steed.

Forget the path well trodden,
That will not help you on your way.
Instead forge your own trail
For others to follow one day.

Never shy from an opportunity
Throw yourself through every door.
For this life is an adventure,
Now go,
Explore!
If anyone can't find
Happiness
With open eyes

Tell them
To close

They will
Genre: Experimental
Theme: Acknowledge the inner bliss
Abraham Avalos Aug 2018
Put yourself in an environment & let yourself go
No plans u must follow
Just letting it all flow
A path with no limits
Just free living at its best
Following intuition
Put your mindset to rest
Where you'll end up
Is a path only u can unfold
It's a journey u must
Go out & explore

                                                    - Abraham Avalos
Xoaquín Oznian Oct 2018
Come on.

Come on baby.

Don't be selfish tonight.

Let's be lovers.

Let's be more generous.

Let's be more nurturing and caring to each other

As we taste and explore each other's bodies

Open your legs.

Let me extend my generosity

To the legends within your hidden temple

An abundance of *** in the air

Is the sound of your voice

As you moan without care

I get so ***** thinking of you kissing my neck

and touching me in the sexiest places the way you know that I like.

I just need you on top of me right now.

My body yearns for you constantly.

It has grown so deeply attached to you that it craves your ***

and needs it to facilitate a healthy, ****** release

So come on baby

Don't be selfish, it's alright

Give me all of you

Focus.

You'll be moaning with delight.
he embraced the crevices and ridges of her body
like an adventurer exploring new terrains
he would not be staying for long.
Cné Aug 2017
A tentative touch unsure
of erotica I've yet to explore.
Her sweet ripe ******* allure
my watering mouth can't ignore.

Tickling teasing touch to ignite us
giggling on our high
Soft soothing caresses in between
wondering why I was so shy...

Our fingers tangled in long blonde hair,
then gently stroking soft warm skin.
Bodies writhing, legs entwining,
where she ends, there I begin.

Oblivious to our thoughts
enambered with desires
Lips of wine in heated passion
soaring pleasures even higher.

Perfumed oil on bodies glistening,
**** laughs and playful fights.
Lace and heels and toys aplenty,
Girl, we'll make this last all night.

By EJ and Cné
A little wine
A little laugh
A little pleasure
For our own behalf

Thank you EJ for such inspiration
https://hellopoetry.com/elizabeth-j-1/
Late night hours
Tends to make me
More vulnerable
To negative feelings
As if my guards are asleep
My defences are down
And somehow the demons
Then try to come in
Why is it that late night thoughts
Are deeper with multiple layers
Preventing you from sleeping
So you can explore through it all
Is it because the world is quieter
Those thoughts can finally be heard
It is like a blessing and a curse
A temptation at its worse
Because you're exploring
Thoughts that might just hurt
Time feels slower
During late night hours
Time feels the same in darkness
I hear nothing but my thoughts
The ticking sound of the clock
And the sleeping sounds
Of everyone else but me
Mystic Ink Plus Aug 2018
Topic,
My next project will be
Dissecting ego:
From where it begins
    
Objectives:
To try to explore, where the seeds are
To unveil who showed it
To confirm if it is heritable?
To witness how fast it grows
Is that us who tame ego,
Or does ego tames us?
Does ego dies before the possessor?
    
Method used, 
Tracking the loud voice
Tracking the grandeur side
Dissecting skin deep
Relating all connections
Exploring circumstances
Done exclusive on humans
Saints excluded
  
Discussion: 
Ego never discuss
It stays ahead
  
Conclusion:
We are the one
We tame ego
Absolutely acquired
Understanding is the antidote
    
Disclosure:
None
Genre: Structural Abstract
Theme: Being Human.
Show me that Person
Who don’t have ego

Then,
I can introduce
Why he/she is a saint.
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