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Thine eyes
Were simply
Two pools of midnight
In which I'd stray
To heaven's celestial shores
#Pulchritude #Eyes #Her #Celestial shores
ok okay Jul 2018
The lull of a restless night relieves my senses
It's monotone silence maintains my breath
The cold night breeze enters through an open window
It whispers soft tunes and attempts to put me to sleep
The humming of an exhausted laptop helps me decompress
It distracts me from overthinking and blocks out my stress
As the night goes on it starts to rain
It comforts my senses and cleanses my pain
This time-worn house cracks and creaks
It talks of troubled times and how it came to be
This place I call home proves i’m never alone
And it's always there to support me
3rd poem. Enjoy :)
Jordan Rowan Aug 2015
Midnight just stands there
It watches me with a stare
She doesn't like to sleep
Yet she sleeps with everyone but me

I'm calm as it storms
In this mental fire I am warm
I'm not without but within
As I let midnight in

There's a hollow in the sounds
Resounding through the pounds
Of my insomniac heart  
In the silky black dark

She was made in the light
But lives in darkest night
Solemn and upright
Like a high-end socialite

She makes me feel alive
Before the sun slowly dies
A martyr for my dreams
But nothing's what it seems
Advent Oct 2014
when the clock ticks at 12,
another minute has passed and another day has been renewed.
it replenishes an entire moment that separates yesterday from today.

when the clock ticks at 12,
a part of me has left something for good.
something that could only be retrieved by the nostalgia
of the passing hours that gives a pang of discomfort and dismay.

when the clock ticks at 12,
a fairy godmother is there waiting for me to move past everything and start fresh,
like nothing has ever happened from yesterday

but when the clock ticks at 3,
my emotions are scattered,
eating me alive.
it kicks me out of the zone - exposing me to a world of nothing but things to hide.
it haunts my core, dwells with my demons,
building up emotions that don't seem to collide

and at 3, I find you - once again with all the sublime images we’ve captured
and grand words we’ve uttered.
i find you, drowning from the roots
of my memoirs... and there I see how midnights took parts of me

because at 3, I’ll always remember how I grew with thee


a.t.
Nicole Ashley Apr 2015
I hold this jar of fireflies
Under the moon
Stars
And wind
They float inside and wait
Sweeping across dewey grass
I count them
One by one
On and off they flicker, see?
Twilight I set them free
Don't they look so lovely?
Anastasia Feb 2018
Marinara is my favourite kind of pizza.
I mean, I can’t really have any others...
Yes, I am one of those ‘annoying vegans’
But I also don’t like the non-dairy cheeses.

I used to order the gluten-free version.
So, I guess I am even more annoying.
However, the dough was so dry and weird
I just could never enjoy it.

I’ve tolerated it though for maybe 4 times.
But seriously, it was quite nasty.
So, please, just get the normal Marinara,
Unless you've got celiac disease.

In which case,
I'm sorry,
You gotta have to get the gross pizza.
mjad Aug 2018
Fun
Of all the fun Ive ever had
Almost all I've never told you
From beach days to movie nights
And pizza stops and wrestling fights
Almost all I've never told you
Car rides speeding at midnight
Walking on the frozen lake downtown
Scared that I'll fall through and drown
Waking up in his bed
To giving road head
All the fun I've had I've never told you
You never knew, never found out about
All the lies I hand fed you
Dozens and dozens of times I did what I liked
Instead of listening to you
And of all of those times of adventure and fun
I regret absolutely none
Except the fact I had to pretend I wasn't actually doing a single one
I'll tell them one day
Part 1 of 3
Robin Lemmen Oct 2018
I wonder if you ever reach out
Hoping to find the curve of my body
Connecting with yours at 4 in the morning
You are stronger than you know
But acting weaker than you should
I wonder if you ever get lost in reverie
Looking for my love at twilight when the rest of the world
Is soundly sleeping off the day left behind
You move through time without letting it latch on
I wonder if you ever miss my name, on the tip of your tongue
Think and long for those five letters to form a song
But you would not listen to it even if it were to be sung
I wonder if you ever miss my heavy thinking
And how I would share those mesmerizing nightmares
Those midnight tendrils with you
I wonder I wonder, I wonder
Oh how I wish to come home
calcium Dec 2018
• ° * • ° * • ° * • ° * • ° * • ° • °

She sleeps late at night,
Hoping he'd be awake for her

• ° * • ° * • ° * • ° * • ° * • ° *• °
Advent Oct 2014
i only write in the middle of the night
while the stars watch me
waste ink of blood
dripping from the veins of my brain

i only write in the middle of the night
while the moon guards me
as i write the message of my soul to the universe
solely dug from my heart

and suddenly everything comes back to reality
the sun sets high
illuminating the pitched black sky
and i wonder,
will i ever enjoy the daylight
while carrying the burdens i hold inside



a.t.
beth stclair May 2015
like a stone you fell, stars on your lips,
out of the dark, like a bird carrying the sky.

i stretched towards you my soul singing
of meadow grasses and old ruins.

everything you touched became a flame,
joy burnt like a fever beneath your wings.

i ran to you, shadows drawing back
the night like a curtain.

oh, the echoes of a pounding heart, across hills,
across continents, you strided on the wind

until the sea shook out its sheets
and the leaf shivered on the branch.

the night settled its layers of black
into dark forests, rested against the glassy tide

and you were gone, you were gone,
lost to hair more fragrant than mine.
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/and-then-i-returned-to-you-you-my-poet-of-the-water-beth-st-clair/1115678228?ean=29400165

from my book
Amoy Feb 2018
Midnight!
Midnight!
Midnight!

The burning sensation of those word were hard to digest
Sorrow, Tear, How **** can I be
Black is Beauty I say…to whom they say

Midnight! Midnight!.. you are as dark as Midnight
I'm haunted by those words, As they stuck to me like fresh sap from a tree..
I’m drowning, I’m drowning, I can’t get free, those words will forever trail me..

They trailed me; they jarred me, Blackie Tutu! Blackie Tutu!
How can kids be so cruel using skin color as a tool
I held my own and stayed cool for I knew has long I was in this school my fate was doom.

Pickey-Pickey head! was the melody of the song
I listened allowing the word to sink into my soul
The beat made me sick and I knew this one would also stick
I Looked up to the sky wondering why
No! No! No! Woman don’t cry
Be an African and hold your pride…

Hands by my side, I held my head up high
I found the fight within me, Stone faced Killer bee
I faced the music and it set me free
On the attack I had them flee…using word to conquer thee
I carried on knowing freedom wasn’t free and then
Like bolt of lightning it occurred me  
To defeat them I had to BELIEVE in ME
Robert G Page Dec 2011
by
rgpage

her blonde wisps of hair riding the late evening’s breeze,
at the dark water’s edge they casually stroll
snuggled up close under her lover’s arm
as the breakers roar like a thunder’s roll.

a late night stroll on deserted shore
the  dark hour’s flushed with the full moon’s glow,
barely enough light for their silhouette’s form,
as they walk the water’s edge with its wave’s ebb and flow.

on a wool blanket stretched upon the cool evening sand
alone with nature, the couple takes pause
she sits and leans back on his bare muscled chest
lightly stroking his arm with her nail like claws.

light wine and cheese from a basket she packed
‘til nature takes hold and leads them along
with kiss’ on her ear and cheek he snacked
as young hormones pull on urges made strong.

with one finger lifting her tiny stringed strap
a motion foretelling of pleasures to be earned,
his fingers gently gliding it down her arm
exposing a prize for which he did yearn.

warm kiss’ exchanged give personal consent
the ocean’s loud din now muffled and still,
gentle fondling, soft kissing, their secrets are learned.
with their gifts to each other of a lover’s free will.

time pass’ quickly with the couple’s desires,
their two bodies joined in love’s embrace;
united hearts pounding to love’s ultimate dance
  at the water’s edge where the breakers chase….
clever Mar 2018
when i saw it, it was just past midnight.
the residual blur of every flashing light.
red and blue, pulsing in your driveway.
holding my breath, keeping tears at bay.
i just couldn't tell if it was you out there.
my lungs constricting, denying despair.
you've been my best friend since forever.
you'd always been there through whatever.
they wouldn't let me past the caution tape.
this time, they wouldn't let you escape.
i love you but i can't help you this time.
i wish i could. my heart breaks for you.
i love you more than anyone else could.
i love you, too. i love you like hell, chica.
please.
beth stclair Mar 2015
winter faded like old parchment, drawn in charcoal
the trees waited for the inevitable colours of spring.
your voice coloured silence and left me standing
away from the crowd with my head inclined to yours,
listening to you, the shadows swept away and your
voice like the moonlight, the blue inks of the sea.
i watched you unwind night skies and the night stars
that burnt in the rivery realms of lost ruins and whispering
dreams, fell like dead men before your passion and there
was no reasoning with what you believed and you had
no compassion for the world. hatred fired up before
my forgiveness and you could not forgive. how many  
oceans scattered their flowers and light, how many
armies fell before the burning amber of your eyes?
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/and-then-i-returned-to-you-you-my-poet-of-the-water-beth-st-clair/1115678228?ean=29400165

from my book
Sam Jun 2017
Do you remember the nights? Back when we would chase the shooting stars under a canvas sky stained black. Nights we held so dear, prancing in the twilight.
                              Those nights led to coffee-shop mornings. Mornings when the "House Blend" was the only thing keeping our eyes open. Mornings that we spent holding each other tight, watching the sun climb in the meridian.
                               I thought those days would last forever, but here I am, kissing this cigarette. Wishing on those same stars that we used to chase.
Paras Bajaj Jan 13
It's 3 am, when you try to seek for help.
It's 3 am, when you've tears in your eyes.
It's 3 am, when all the memories hit you.
It's 3 am, when you regret the goodbyes.

It's 3 am, when the darkness scares you.
It's 3 am, when you've noises in your head.
It's 3 am, when you miss everyone at once.
It's 3 am, when you wish you were dead.

It's 3 am, when you can't save yourself.
It's 3 am, when you get hurt a little more.
It's 3 am, when you just hate yourself.
It's 3 am, when you only feel insecure.

It's 3 am, when you love lyrics more, not song.
It's 3 am, when you only know what's wrong.
It's 3 am, when you are alone, no one to care.  
It's 3 am, when you ask if you belong somewhere?

-Paras Bajaj #PoetrybyParas
Instagram : @mr.parasbajaj
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