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Jordan Rowan Dec 2015
Suppose the night sings songs of sleep
But the words can't ring or reach us.
Does it matter if we hear them wail
When all we do is sink not sail
Mi encantadora, I'm on your trail

There's a purpose here lost in the wind
But before the rain starts and the storm begins
I've got to say to you something I don't know
If I can't hold it in before the winter snow
Mi encantadora, you're the place I go

Think of lights high in the apartment suites
Who might live there and what they eat
Do you think they ever think of us?
Two lovers lost among the frozen dusk
Mi encantadora, slay me if you must

Has your life ever passed you by
And you think back with teary eyes
Of all the people that have come and gone
And how many of them never said so long
Mi encantadora, is it right or wrong?

I can't answer everything you ask
I will do my best, I can't give more than that
If you bleed than you can bleed on me
And I won't sigh when you need me
Mi encantadora, it's your life that feeds me

As if all the things that I've ever done
Meant nothing until we begun
And everything from here on in
Will mark my grave and do me in
Mi encantadora, I hope we die as friends
Jordan Rowan Sep 2015
See that moon up in the sky
It shines desire into your eye
As the fire burns where you lie
Mi querida, let's go dancing tonight

Save the morning for siestas with me
Together is where we should be
Save the evening for beautiful dreams
Mi querida, my madrigal queen

Have a moment to quietly pray
Close your eyes and hear the band play
You light up the dark cabaret
Mi querida, together we sway

As the night comes to a close
And the city is still on our clothes
You smile at me and my heart grows
Mi querida, I hope that you know
The Anybodies Jun 2015
Susurraré contra tu oído cosas inexplicables para tí
Como la más hermosa poesía para mí.
Me colaré en tus sueños.
Te haré vivir, haré que la adrenalina corra por tus venas y que grites de euforia.
Al despertar por las mañanas vas a queres ver mi rostro y mi nombre te sonará sin querer en la cabeza.
Al verme tu corazón palpitará más rápido, ya verás.
Seré lo último que recuerdes antes de dejarte caer en la inconciencia del sueño y volveré.

Y voy a volverme tu unica realidad, lo unico en lo que siempre creerás.
Seré lo que tú ya no serás para mí.
Viviré en tu mente y no me dejarás escapar.
Porque yo te enseñaré a vivir.

Sólo tatuaré mi nombre en tu esencia.
mariamme Jun 2018
though you are far from me
in distance & otherwise
i know the care i put into you
might be a balm to you,
not enough perhaps
& even unasked for.
but i pray that the love
i manifest in my every step
toward you across the barriers
will open your eyes to the mirror
sitting in your open hands,
so that you might see what i do;
gaze upon the face that i have loved,
the empathy in the eyes
and the kindness creased in a smile
that too often is swallowed
by despair and salty sadness-
something i too understand, yet
feel differently, in my own way.
you remember, you lifted me
out of the pool i tried to drown in,
my own eyes clouded &
i was choked by my own problems.
i hope that my care will cross
the barriers between us & you
will feel the love i have for you.
the black cloud is over our heads, my love, and i cannot dispel the tears. i can only wish i could be with you in your pain & promise you the world. i can only write poems out of helplessness & my own despair. i can only tell you i love you & see "read at 12:27 am" for two days until you come back to me. all for you, because i believe you would do the same for me.
Nienke May 2019
el sol del universo infinito
lejos, aún tan caliente
radiantes del corazón
destellos en mi mente
eres tu
libre, ingenuo
decepcionado por solo un segundo
con una energía fuerte
la necesidad del mundo
es mi cariño
siempre-sonrisa sin pensar
difícil de alcanzar
de abajo
estoy viéndote
amarillo reflejando
todo parece más grande
pero nunca déjalo ser más gigante
que mi amor
solcito no me mandes dolor
Por favor, ayudame con el esp. (errores?)
My soul sees yours, clear as day
singing softly but as quiet as night.
a candle burning in the windowsill flickers,
as I come to the realization that no matter what I do,
i'll never meet another soul like you.
I see you,
I can't help but wonder if my eyes decieve me.
I would exhale my last breath just to fan the flames of our brief existence.
The memories just wont fade away;
sometimes I wonder if I hadn't met a soul like yours, would I be as insightful?
or blind to the fact that I'm no longer whole.
Somewhere along the way I got lost in the echo.
Just telltale sign of what might have been, a ghost left for all to see.
Emma Price Jan 2018
there's something special about
seeing their name, there's no doubt
in real life they don't pout

there's something special seeing them as the author
a hope that it fosters
their inerrant beauty you would never alter

there's something special, seeing them in a new light
getting a glimpse of their plight
comprehending how hard they fight

there's something special in their poems
never could lose them
from them, so much joy stems
for Han and Lex
I love you guys so much in real life
and I feel so honored every time I get to read one of your poems
much love
Noone Feb 2019
Queiro abrazarte
Queiro besarte
Queiro vivir contigo
Por favor dame una oportunidad...
Taking spanish classes. So tried to write a poem. XOXO..
Marla Dec 2018
Ha sido una noche buena,
Eso no te lo puedo mentir.
Por las calles no sonaba ni una sirena,
El peligro estaba lejo de mi.
Aunque no puedo decir que es perfecta,
La vida es real.
Entonces hay que reírse como si no existiera los problemas,
Eso sería lo ideal.
Robby Oct 2019
What was this spell you put on me bruja?
What were the words you spoke into existence?
The fire you lit still burns hot and deep
I wish we both could have tasted the flames
Before you slipped back into darkness to pay for your sins
♡sally rojas♡

Cuando estos pilares
Sean derribados
Serás tú quien
Lleve la corona

y

Yo te lo
deberé
todo a ti

¿Cuánto dolor ha
tesquebrajado
tu alma?

¿Cuánto amor
Te haría completa?

Tú eres el
Relámpago
Que me sirve
De guía.

No puedo encontrar
Las palabras que decir,

Llegan
demasiado
tarde

He recorrido
La mitad del mundo
Para decir

Que
Te pertenezco

Entonces ...
Ella me ataca
Como una Leo
(signo zodiacal)

Cuando mi corazón
Está dividido
Como Río de Janeiro

Pero te aseguro
Que mis deudas
Son reales

No puedo encontrar
Las palabras que decir
Cuando estoy confuso

He recorrido
La mitad del mundo
Para decir

Que
Tú eres
Mi mu(sa)

¡Ah! ¡Responde,
responde a mi ternura!

¡Vierte en mi!
¡Vierte en mí la euforia!

¡Responde a mi ternura!

¡Responde a mi ternura!

¡Ah, vierte en mí la euforia!

¡Vierte en mí!

¡Vierte en mí la euforia!

Responde a mi ternura
Responde a mi ternura
!!!Ah, vierte en mí la euforia¡¡¡

Pertenezco...
Solo te pertenezco a ti

No puedo encontrar
Las palabras que decir

Llegan demasiado tarde

He recorrido
La mitad del mundo
Para decir
Que te pertenezco
Kleng Jul 2018
(reverse poetry)

I don't think about you anymore.
I'd be lying if I say,
I miss every inch of you
Because
You are nothing to me now
And it's not true that
My entirety
Gave life to
Your love—
Always remember that
The pain we've caused each other
Is greater than
My love for you
Nis Jun 2018
Ojalá mi cara fuese jazz.
Ojalá mi cara fuese atardecer de cien días
y se perdiese como música en la marea.
Ojalá mis notas fuesen fuego
que corriese raudo por tus venas.
Ojalá se perfumasen en el aire
y  diesen sentido al amanecer del alba.
Ojalá fluyesen como el agua
suavemente rizando la rojez del cielo.
Ojalá fuesen contundentes como la roca
y cayesen a plomo junto a mi corazón muerto.

Ojalá mi cara fuese jazz.
Siempre cambiante, nunca la misma
subebajando en el horizonte.
Tierna y vibrante, siempre difusa
alzándose hacia el cielo con alas desplegadas.
Dulce y salada, externa e interna,
por ósmosis entrando por cada poro.
Pesada y rígida, sólida y pura
cercenando la realidad con su ser preciso.

Ojalá mi cara fuese jazz
siendo lo que no es,
no siendo lo que es.
En cada instante de su espacio manifestándose
en cada punto de su tiempo existiendo.
Única e indivisible, aunque difícilmente alcanzable.
Verdadera mentira que perdura tras los siglos.
Satírica cual elefante boca arriba
dando a luz a lo que siempre ha sido nuestro.

Ojalá mi cara fuese jazz.
Saliendo hacia la luz verdadera
y tornando hacia la oscuridad traicionera.
Volando hacia arriba y en picado,
oteándose a si misma , eterna y cierta.
Creando un nuevo mundo igual a este,
igual de distinto que este a si mismo.
Imitando la certeza de lo incierto.
Pretendiendo con falsedades llegar al verso.

Ojalá mi cara fuese jazz
y fuese objeto de su ser
y fuese sujeto de su haber
y se realizase siempre que le dieses tiempo
y se realizase siempre en lo que siempre fue
y avanzase inmóvil hacia la verdad
y esperase impasible a la mentira.
Ojalá de cada error saliese un mérito,
una esperanza, una virtud siempre precisa.

Ojalá mi cara fuese jazz
tornando el arte arcana en ente nuevo,
aunque sea falso.
En estúpidas epifanías tornando el acto
cual poeta escribiendo estos versos.
Ojalá repetir versos pasados en lenguas nuevas
y llamarse artista.
Mero comentarista y observador
de lo que precedió en tiempo y espacio.

Ojalá mi cara fuese jazz
existiendo con sólo pensarlo
negando el pensamiento mismo,
lógica implacable mintiendo mi rostro,
contradicciones inapelables mintiendo mi ser.
Con precisión matemática ser mentira,
con la etereidad del arte ser verdad.
Ojalá como estafador maestro ante tu mirar
se hiciese música que disfrutar.

Ojalá mi cara fuese jazz,.
Ojalá mi cara no fuese jazz.
Ojalá no tener cara, ni nada.
Ojalá el solo pensarlo me dejase ciega,
sorda para la música de mi rostro.
Ojalá pasar por debajo de una escalera tirada
para no recibir buena suerte.
Ojalá austera o inexistente,
cual dios mirando tu filosofía vana.

Ojalá mi cara fuese jazz
y unificase tantas corrientes
como puede abarcar con sus brazos.
Ojalá pudiese tornar cierta la realidad
por el mero hecho de pensarla, pero no puedo,
pero mi rostro se muestra impasible
ante desdicha tal y sigue avanzando;
regla dorada entre uñas de marfil,
largos palillos para comer la realidad desvirtuada.

Ojalá mi cara fuese jazz
y revolucionase el mundo con su pensar
y desmontase heregías como ciertas.
Ojalá años más tarde siguiese su lucha
contra el infiel divino hasta su muerte,
y como la de un mono con barba
se tornase contra el padre de la ciencia moderna,
y le enseñase a pensar en sueños,
a soñar en vida, a soñar en muerte.

Ojalá mi cara fuese jazz
y se repitiese eternamente para mi suerte,
nunca cambiando, siempre presente.
Ojalá asesinase al padre de todo
y se adueñase de su lugar.
Ojalá existir antes de ser.
Ojalá rodar por la vida sin mirar a los lados,
destruyendo lo que tantas veces nos ha aplastado
y creando la belleza del arte, que es eterna.

//

I wish my face were jazz.
I wish my night were sunset of one hundred days
and it lost itself like music in the tides.
I wish my notes were fire
which ran swift in your veins.
I wish they would perfume itself in the air
and gave meaning to the morning's sunrise.
I wish they flowed like water
softly curling the sky's redness.
I wish they were sturdy like rock
and they plummeted next to my dead heart.

I wish my face were jazz.
Always changing, never the same.
updowning in the horizon.
Tender and vibrating, always diffuse
rising towards the sky with open wings.
Sweet and salty, extern and intern,
by osmosis entering through each pore.
Heavy and rigid, solid and pure
cutting through reality with its precise being.

I wish my face were jazz
being what it is not,
not being what it is.
In every instant of its space manifesting itself
in every point of its time existing.
One and indivisible, although hardly reachable.
True lie which endures beyond centuries.
Satiric like elefant on its head
giving birth to what always has been ours.

I wish my face were jazz.
Going out to the true light
and turning to the treacherous darkness.
Flying upwards and in a dive,
scanning itself, eternal and true.
Creating a new world equal to this,
equally as distinct as this to itself.
Imitating the certainty of the uncertain.
Trying with falseness to reach the verse.

I wish my face were jazz.
and it were object of its being
and it were subject of its having
and it came true always you gave it time
and it came true always in what it always was
and it moved fordward unmoving towards the truth
and it waited impasible the lie.
I wish of every error a merit would come out,
a hope, a virtue ever precise.

I wish my face were jazz
turning arcane art into a new being,
even if false.
Into stupid epiphanies turning the act
as a poet writing this verses.
I wish to repit old verses in new tongues
and to call myself an artist.
Mere commentator and observer
of what preceded it in time and space.

I wish my face were jazz.
Existing with only thinking of it,
negating thought itself,
implacable logic lying my visage,
unnappealable contradictions lying my being.
With mathematical precision being a lie,
with the ethereality of art being the truth.
I wish that like master con artist before your looking
it turned itself into music to enjoy.

I wish my face were jazz.
I wish my face weren't jazz.
I wish I didn't have a face, nor anything.
I wish only thinking of it made me blind,
deaf to the music of my visage.
I wish passing under a fallen ladder
to not receive good luck.
I wish austere or non-existant,
like god looking at your vane philosophy.

I wish my face were jazz,
and it unified so many streams
like it can embrace with its arms.
I wish I could turn reality true
with the mere act of thinking it, but I can't,
but my visage shows itself impassible
before such misfortune and continues onwards;
golden rule among ivory nails,
long chopsticks to eat the desvirtuated reality.

I wish my face were jazz
and it revolucionised the world with its thinking
and it disassembled heressies as true.
I wish years later its fight would continue
against the divine infidel until his death,
and like a bearded monkey's
it would turn itself against the father of modern science,
and it taught him to think in dreams,
to dream in life, to dream in death.

I wish my face were jazz
and it repited itself enternally to my fortune,
never changing, always present.
I wish it assassinated the father of everything
and took its place.
I wish existing before being.
I wish rolling through life without looking sideways,
destroying that which always has crushed us
and creating the beauty of art, which is timeless.
Ufff this was a long one, took some time to translate it and I think is as accurate as a translation of a poem can be, but any advise regarding it would be appreciated. I know it sounds pretty random, and it is, as it was made mostly through automatic writting; but there is a common point joining the whole poem and giving it order. If you really like it, give it a few reads and see if you can find it ;)).
everly Sep 2018
I take pride in my roots
I take pride in my melanin
And my ancestors
All those who have persevered
To get me to where I am today.
I take pride en mi pelo rizo
Gracias a Dios..

I carry my culture in my curls to
The poetry that runs through my
Veins
rushing
pulsing
sweat on the furrow of thy lip
beading
ache of the toil in their fieldwork
sweet
azucar negra
my ancestors blood was sweeter
they still don’t want us here
but some things never change
but we are able
and no beautiful ignorant person
Will ever take that away.
unnamed Apr 2019
Caught from that rich jade
Sea, you slice me thin, bearing
My raw abundance
Andaluciaa May 2019
Mi vista es distinta. Es muy triste y contamina. Me siento cada vez menos viva, derrotada y confundida. Sin saber que hacer, no logro entender aunque aqui todo esta muy bien. Mi mente no deja de correr. Mi mente necesita de calma. Mi mundo siente que se va acabar por que esto ataca. La vida es un proceso. Cada quien construyendo su reto y al mismo tiempo uno siente rincones inciertos. Miro al cielo, pido al mundo repuestas a esto que me esta comiendo. Pero debo escarbar mis adentros. Quiero ser fuerte no dejar de competir.  Esta lucha es solo contra mi. Me siento cansada pero se que lo voy a lograr.
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