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Love me today and
Love me more tomorrow,
Love me more the
next sunrise after.
Let the magnitude in every
succeeding morrow be
mightier than all
it's precedents.
Just
Love me into the infinite.
Aayasha khan Jul 2018
Life is not a fairy tale,
You don't come alive after true loves first kiss.
You stab yourself to sleep each day,
Just to get up and see your pillow soaked with broken dreams.
Tears of sadness untouchable through and through.
A million promises made due,
Of the infinite love of me and you.
We all do love, loose and learn
nish Aug 2018
------------------------------------
 \ why is it that time slips /                              
   \she slides and slithers /
     \right through these  /
        \ infinite crevices  /
          \found all over /
             \my greedy /
                \ hands,  /
                   \ like /
                   /    •   \
                 /       s      \
              /            a       \
           /             n            \
        /                 d              \
      /                                      \
    / in the dainty hourglass \
  /sitting aloft my skew shelf.\
-----------------------------------------
I wanted to try shape poetry again, and I have to say this was MUCH harder than .leafing
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/2633672/leafing/

It took forever to align the slashes to give this poem shape, without them it didn't look like an hourglass.
I hope you liked this poem and I'd love it if you commented some links to any shape poetry you've tried out.
Hope you enjoyed :)
Funny how someone can
Sunder a heart of thine
And thou still dost adore them
With all thy riven smithereens!

My love, please come to me,
In my life thou dost linger;
Like as salt of a briny sea
Or like as the star's luster.

So long have I endured
A heart sundered by love
Though wherever  I wander
Thy sweet love I dost crave.

Oh! My love, come back to me
So we may pick these riven pieces
That like sea waters scattered be
And I'll shower thee with kisses.

Nevermore shall we ever sunder
For my love will be thy love
Sparking like heaven's thunder,
As thy  love will be my love.

Blissfully we'll dwell ever after
Like twinkling stars of the galaxy
With our enchanted passion
Effulgently lingering in perpetuity.



Kikodinho Edward Alexandros,
Los Angeles, California.
11/19/2018.
Unto she who will never read it.

#Love
#Nostalgia
#Infinite Love
#Galaxy
#Stars

A modified version of one of my older poem penned in the wee hours of a dead July of 2015.
hannah Nov 2018
Elated
A light cloud
Rising up
Around you
So clean and pure
See the lack in your face
But I don't care
You are so vivid
Colour seeps into the world
Around you
Just from standing near you
I become colourful too
Like a clean breathe
Of fresh air you cleanse my lungs
Drift away my regrets and fears
Dare me to dream
And I dream
Endless skies and the scent of
Evergreen and the stars
Infinity
Walk alone for miles
Live my life the way I want to
I want to be here again
He'll never see me the way I see him but that doesn't matter.
September Roses May 2018
We are tied together by our stories, our history
Tales woven through our ancestry, when our parents talk of their younger days
When their life was ahead of them, the future was anything and everything, they speak of their old friends with ache in their soul
Of times when their hearts were filled with fire and passion, running through fields growing memories  planted by the world around them
When they could sprint the wind in their hair, adventure ahead, hope in their heart.
They speak of the days behind with woe
Because essentially just their ideas of the future as a young mind, was more exciting than reality.
As dreams failed and hope faded
As their minds wear and their treasured stories that made them who they are fog over
As threads begin to wear
As tales they once yelled to the world with pride frays at the details
Your whole world slipping away as the thread unwinds
But they get the joy of passing down the tapestry to their pride and joy, to the life they made, every one of us
Every moment we live with ease of no appreciation for every experience every laugh
Moments we take for granted
Moments we will pine for when they run out
Moments the elderly urge us with fire to be aware of the importance of
Moments we'll wish we listened to them about
There is a vast tapestry of memories behind you and infinite thread panning out in front of you, connecting to other tapestries, visiting at friends, at enemies, joining with soul-mates future, some cut away, some ripped from the tapestries to soon before they could weave their own
A loose thread cannot be fixed once more are made, and the patterns will never be what you want them to be, savour each stitch
Take time on every thread
You don't want to be sitting there 50 years old thinking about the life you wasted
About the memories faded
About how every slipping memories never like the moment you made it
Don't be sitting 90 filled with regret
Filled with hatred for every opportunity you left
Screaming into the voice about how much you hate what your life become.

because they say time flys when your having fun truth is time only flies when you're young.
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
Karisa Brown Feb 24
We were one
In a million pieces
Scattered on the floor

Before time shattered
The door

Our love
Was infinite
Or so it seemed

Now my heart is broken
And I don't know what
That means

You're still
Here
ryn Apr 2015
It's beginning...
As my day matured into the tangerine sun.
Familiar feelings effortlessly conjured as the same old tales were spun.

Some came in hues of marmalade
Traces of citrus that left in haste.
Initial sweetness on the palate that would fade
Only making way for a bitter aftertaste.

A few were wrapped in tints of ******.
A jolt-like sensation that spoke...
Intense and unmistakable in nature.
Like glowing embers engulfed in latent flames and smoke.

Several bore the colours and scent of marigold
Boasting of orange petals whimsically waving to the clouds...
Whispering hints of rumours from days of old,
Days of when mine was the only silent face in a boisterous crowd.

The ones forged in bronze were few and hardly said.
Like the only compelling excerpt embedded within infinite chapters.
Hidden words in plain sight strung together boldly in
red.
Rubies cast carelessly in the swiftest of rivers...

It is beginning...**
The end of today as the sun grew redder...
I'd bide the sands of time as it slips away into forever...
ok okay Jul 2018
Your infinite greatness makes you greater than all
Your infinite knowledge means you know all that is all
Your infinite power means you are as strong as can be
Your infinite love means you love everyone equally
You infinite wisdom makes you infinitely wise
Your infinite grandness makes me ponder why?

How could a being so infinite exist?
A being so great with knowledge above all
A being with power and wisdom that has no faults  
A being who loves and appreciates me

Is it just me or does this sound absurd?
Would this being still exist if we didn't have hope?
We hope for his love and acceptance at death
Yet how do we know if he actually cares?
Thus how do we know if he’s actually real?

Maybe he's real or maybe he isn’t
Maybe he cares or maybe he doesn’t
When worst comes to worst
When I lose control
I hope for his attributes that make him above all
Hey guys, was just thinking about what is really out there
Tired of pain
Tired of living with regret
Tired of simply caring
The mental pain has cause physical
My mind isn't even a hurricane
It's a  *** of rubber bands
One thought causing another to spring off
I want to turn it off
Turn it all off
I still wanna see the world
I just don't want to experience it like this
I want to be hollow
I want to feel nothing
Flip the switch
Turn off the humanity
Learned to not give a f*
Learned to live completely numb
I've never been better
This is my first poem on here hope you like it
In a wakeful contradiction, it lays fact between my fiction,
Tangling subatomics, it unravels as its tricks spin
deeper toward the outward...
                                      it won’t let up, 'til I give in.

Over matter, lay my mind…
I tell a lie to pass the time...
But there’s no reason nor a rhyme --
                                            Less still, a purpose?
I search for something to remind my mind
                     that there’s truth that isn’t worthless…

But as always, failure appears;
                              in a sort-of amnesic continuity.
And my reality lies to my own mind
                              Just as well
                              as it succeeds in its futility.
With destruction as its manifest,
It tells me that I stand my tallest
                              Upon two buckled knees.

And just as faith will find one’s doubt --
                  a search within has left without.
It seems that an answer, once sought out,
                  will be left lacking its question.
My truth divides itself,
                   as a product of infinite misdirection.

I try to substitute a reason for a rhyme.
But with no lies left to pass the time...
                              I swallow a dose of ignorance.
It goes down smoother than the truth.

In a war that started with a truce,
This world betrayed my faith to show me:
                                 that I'm only tall enough
                                 Once I’ve been
                                                         cut
                                                             down
                                                                ­     slowly.

A pill too large to swallow,
                I think I’m choking on myself . . .
Or the irony of asking,
                     “How could I be so careless?”
Here I stand, Barely standing,
                   Consumed almost entirely
By my own dry-heaving self-awareness...

Left to fight the fears that my nightmares create;
I’m still running from my past,
                          yet, haunted by my fate.
They walk beside me always,
                          shadowing wholeheartedly —
Existing as a duality, both apart from,
                         and a part of me.

These ghosts have taught me very little...
                                    Aside from what I hate.
But, I've come to learn not to fear
                                    The forceful hands of fate.
For I shudder not at the thought of destiny,
                                    Or the inevitable in time...
Instead, I fear the eventuality of the choices
That were solely, and entirely, mine.

I fear that my will may be of enough influence, alone...
That fate itself may collapse beneath decisions like my own.
Or that I, myself, might be constructing
What destruction I will find
Among my shattered spirits and convictions,
In these depths to which I climb.

Shofi Ahmed Oct 2017
Shining upon the rose,
lovely the sun rises
over the midday sky.

Without a second thought
the brightest one steps up
bends the ear on the ground.

Prophet Muhammad's (PBUH)
wife was waiting.
He was walking his way home.

Maybe or maybe not
one can revive from the
death sleeping at the night.
Hearing the sound
of the homecoming
beloved's foot though
one can't die.

The blessed lady heard
the sound of the foot
and was sure it was his.
This is it, it's the man, it's his!
He is coming home.

The sun is walking on the way.
It will show up
upon the rose in no time.

Ah, only to discover,
it was Fathima walking
father's home!

She, a woman had
her foot sounds the same as
the man's, the greatest of all!
The very one cannot be copied
because he is the masculine original.

Because from the one
same circle came
the man and the woman.
Maybe with a little gap
spilling infinite pi decimals
new days and new nights.

Still, these are a show of
the one Moon and the one Sun!
Chicken Mar 9
A shiny sparkle
Cascades past my skull
In all of it's reflective glory

Just for a moment
I see a glimpse
Of the end of another story.

We have the cheek
All four of them to say
'We are but beautiful flowers'

And though blooms replicate
It is fair to say, we mankind
get far many more hours

So I dedicate this to the
Party Cannon
The DJ, and his Set

For all the accurate track ID's
and MP3's given
That I couldn't get.

For the outfits
and the stupidity
And that final surviving cassette.

To the doormen who did not
let me in, because
To reject was to protect.

To the friends who
Did not make it
Who chose too soon to change through death

Don’t think I’ll ever
Forget you
You’re also beating in my chest,

Because...

We are those shiny sparkles
That float past skulls
In all our glory

We are the moment
And we are the glimpse
Yet, we are never our story.
We never end :)
r m b May 2017
It's strange
how childhood felt
like a train ride
that would never stop
like reading a book
with an infinite number of pages

But now you're 19-turning-twenty
and the train has finally
come to a definite stop
the tracks have changed its path
and you've reached the end
the epilogue

It's time to move on
move along and grow up
step off that train
and on to the next adventure
close that book
and start a new chapter

Be brave and brace yourself
for there is more to come
beginnings can be daunting
because it also means
saying goodbye to a life
you've lived and loved.
Note to self.
Happy 20th to me.
hello adulthood I don't want to be here
Shofi Ahmed Apr 2017
Just a dew drop, let alone the sea,
and a handful of earth, not the Planet Ge.
Not a shade of blue, save the rose for bee
Purely a clear drop didn’t spill in the core,
because the whole sphere feels the pinch.

Singing chorus rains down, bouncing back
to earth the only open-through planet.
No black hole is as deep as the sun jumps,
dives in the dew on every flower they wet.
Every bird in the trees sings and tweets,
yet one is stone quiet, shouldn’t even hiss.
Shh! shh, the sleeping beauty is sleeping!

Cut above the rest, the unique earth
brimming with the infinite finishing line
by design pans out to the transcended pi.
Pure spring, the waterfront by the Moon,
untouched, unspoiled is her swimming pool.

How she goes by, wetting her ****** toe
Only to bubble high up the transcended circle
If only the sun could rise high in that pole,
for the rest of species could sneak a peek.
She’s there with the capstone of the pyramid!

Shots beyond the fixed circle, netting the eyeballs.
The stars, the Moon on the move for pure freedom.
The thrilled earth did come out, smelling of roses
Off the golden cut pi-decimal-abyss digital spring.
With a handful of earth and a drop of water dew
This is a pure mirroring thanks to the original, you!

At the end of the string apt you took her by hand
She took it in emptying her heart and soul
Earth is now too thin on stock, she is no more
Just a shadow, a 360-degree hollow flute!
Oh light at the end of the tunnel shine and show
Play in like in the Night of Ascending once more!
This is a poem from my book Zero and One available on Amazon.
Victoria Feb 11
Sometimes I sit down and think, “Is this all there is to life?”
Compartmentalize my feelings of sadness, joy, and excitement into boxes
Some of which stack higher than others and tumble down into subcategories
Times I was sad because of my period, because of school, because of ----

Other times I stand up and I don’t think, “I am completely satisfied with life.”
Because I am not
I look at cracked paint on walls and study the paths the minuscule crevices decided to take
So easily permanent and there

My head has established a tyranny of overthinking and anxiety that boxes with itself
Left, right, no left, up, maybe down, sideways, maybe
Too much to think and my brain can’t seem to understand there is still time to think
No decision has to be made about anything ever just yet not yet maybe

I understand time casts an infinite shadow
It forever runs out even though it’s nowhere near the finish line
It’s always running out
Always leaving me breathless
idk i wrote this cause im feeling anxious also procrastinating on my english homework
Marina Kay Oct 2018
I've heard that distance makes the heart grow fonder;
but somehow it seems to me,
melancholy is the mislaid piece,
for the pangs in my chest
have only grown stronger.

We're 3000 miles apart,
on separate time zones and continents,
your absence from my eyes
captivates my consciousness.

Replaying our memories
in an infinite loop,
my mind plays its tricks
to remind me of you.

As if I could forget
that spellbinding time we spent,
on the days and nights
right after we met.
Missing Jordan.
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
Zumee Dec 2018
everything is infinite
once you're in the l∞p
Ilion gray Oct 2018
The simple life of pillows,
Or clouds.
Both being of stellar variety.
the burning gasp of being saved,
everything goes eventually,
If  you leave the room
The space will be missing something;
When it is found,
A trillion Seconds you
thought you lost,
will catch up to you.
All things return
To their someplace;
Now all that is earthly
around me,
has begun to rustle
And wave,
There is no other planet to go
To,
There is no farther away,
The machines are eating the child’s
Tomorrow’s,
The air is bleeding
It’s invisible hue,
The earth in search,
Desperate to borrow
Time,
pilfered from
Everything with an ending
The hour is coming,
You and I will seek
It to;
Just up that way
Then to the right,
Through the frozen fields
of nimbus Pass,
Just a horseshoe
toss from
the holy
Water-rise,
Watching,
Where nothing falls-
While the drifting spritzes-
Do not drip-
But climb.

The mountain staircase
Of night;

I will go.

Because the hour draws close;
And soon when the
Unending dusk grows,
No road will be empty.

Perhaps I will
Return to someplace,
That will only be a place
Once I’ve arrived,
Someplace as lost as all the rocks,
I’ll build a throne and observe
The might of the almighty,
The Strong roots of infinite
Shades of blackness-
Where all creation
Happens
Ilion gray Sep 2018
And I stare into the heavens
Without closing my eyes;
I see
Little wonders
Tiny
dying diamonds
Skating across the frozen cirrus clouds
Just beyond cumulus nimbus mountains
High as the feet of angels.
I watched them delve into the dark
waltzing down through the Heavens
Only some will return.
The devil is resisting the
Light from the stars
He cloaks them beneath
Astrology
The stars are infinite
Wild are their galaxies
The strength of their illumination
Does not know darkness
There are no constellations
the stars will laugh at you
To think they were only shining
For you
to dream
and wish upon
While Our great cities
blot them out
with chemical dust
And inescapable darkness
Moving at the speed of greed
Our kings
all blind
And heartless
Everyone who’s ever breathed
These
Counted breaths
Have Lived and died
on the back of
An angel
The day is coming
When only a few will be numbered
And not a human number
but a number
Of God
a sum shall break
the silent universe
Into infinite tiny diamonds
Each skating across
the wretched peaks
the  blackest waves
A never-ending abyss
Every time I go to 7-11 and get a large
Red Slurpee my brain freezes
and when it starts to slowly drip
I think like this
It’s unfathomable
what you find Sometimes
in the
Creases
of a dreamers mind
ThePoet Sep 2014
Karma is simply not a concept you
believe in, or a concept you disbelieve
in.

It is not a matter of faith or sorcery.

Karma is the outcome of your actions and your words.

And the results of your actions and your words can occur today or in an infinite amount of years.

A cycle of your making.

That is Karma.

© Sarah Ahmed (ThePoet)
What goes around, comes around.
You reap what you sow.
slay Sep 2018
Pleasure remains, but so does the pain, I’m going insane

Are you talking to me? Nah, I don’t think so
Are you asking me if I am mad at the world?
Well I’ll have to think, I guess, maybe? I know!
But I really can’t hear you, I have in headphones
Can we take a break? Cause I gotta smoke
Yes, and each one, it is killing me slow
Well technically fast,
E-R the better
I’d love to be deader than how I already feel in my guts on the inside
Black tar suffocating the fluids inside of my spine —
*****, you are a dime

Pleasure remains, but so does the pain, I’m going insane

“Why you so guarded?” Can’t get this enough
Please shut the **** up, my feelings are stuck
I can’t get enough of the **** from the plug
To put me in a coma from smoking too much
Every time I come thru, I water his buds
He got that good good
that fefe
That neek neek
Good gas got me prerolling
His blunts for the morning
When I'm not high, I'm boring
It's my niche through the torment
To numb all external stimulation endured on my journey
In the basement of a haunted house with all Windows boarded

I'm lonely!
Hopelessly, truthfully, desparingly torn between
Extending my warmth or further retreating
I just wanna die without leaving my momma cleaning
The mess of myself all cold and depleting, and
Soaking the carpet to live or to be in.
Beside myself now, oh, how ******* convenient.
The whispers of a woman in a moment once fleeting , but
That won't be me, will it?
Someone make me see different!
One of the versions of myself that I live with, because
I am infinite.
Still I'm human, I have limits
I could still push myself further than what im currently doing,

WHAT AM I PROVING?
i just wrote this *** imstill working on it
Arianna Dec 2018
Gripping the rings of Saturn,
Rotating, gyrating through the Vastness of anti-gravity,
What if

                  I...

                          Let go?
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OFROCq2nwgA
Joseph Miller Dec 2017
One glorious moment
God said to me
"I am here"

Tears of joy
washed away my fear
as he lifted the veil
revealed his face
radiating the essence
of all things
a cosmic oneness
filled with love
beyond imagining
the mystic sees
the infinite connection
of the ultimate power

But I a mortal being
consumed by form
it seems
God withdrew
left me standing there
in a world separate
where matter divides
and boundaries form
to close the mind
and hide the truth

Yet I am blessed
to seek the light
and find myself
witness to God
true story
Johnny Noiπ Sep 2018
Pythagoras taught that reality was
but one among an infinite number

now u've got the quantum multiverse;
& Pythagoras thought of it first,   saying
all it amounted to was a line leading to
& through a point, like a thread through
a needle;             & so the Universe was
stitched together like a multi-directional
dream catcher; excluding no area
in space &  miracles taking place
                                       when the strings
       are manipulated according to preset
               patterns or improvised designs;

what else did the ancient ancients
do that make ur high-tech gadgets
look like the simple-minded toys
that they in truth are; the ancients  
told time by the movement of the
sun & shadows & communicated
w/ unseen higher spirits, conferred
w/ still higher spirits,   higher than
those both above & below;  spirits
taking the form of sacred prostitutes
& poets, geniuses every one of them
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