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Molly Bartlett May 2012
I wish it weren’t so easy to write
Love poems.

Wandering hallways filled with
storm clouds
Crave the rain.
No black and white
Just gray.
Gray like smoke.
Where there’s smoke there’s fire
But which came first?
The cigarette smoker or the death desire?
Gray like lifetimes of retries.
With desire.
Just first dates and heart breaks.

I wish it weren’t so easy to write
Love poems.

I am more than my feelings
For the reality of
Rare chemistry.
Scientific equations remain unexplained
Within the hunger
in my veins.
Reactions create
flames and puffs of gray
Which came first?
The old age or the decision to retire?
I take a step backward
Towards the forest fortress
On fire.

I wish it weren’t so easy to write
Love poems.

Balancing act amongst smoke
Gray and black
Which came first
The casualty or the decision to attack?
Victory is idealistic
Affection selfish
Monotony is paradise
If desire should allow me
Just shotgun shells
And love letter confetti
We left one another
******
For the sake of trust retries
With the firey empire

I wish it weren’t so easy to write
Love poems
Kwaician Dec 2014
So many shes and hers in the world
18 years old still tryna find that one Girl
No I'm not in a rush to get hitched Tonight
Just want a love that's pure through Fuss and fight
No need to be worried cause what's Mine is mine
And when I find you love we're only Looking forward no mistakes no Retries
Flo Jan 2016
It takes time to find the right words
Conceiving them so they may blossom
A construct of words, a piece of art
The perfectionist hidden inside a poets heart

Though impatient he is
Eager to find the most beautiful words
He's rushing it, he's writing too fast
A bad poem he wrote, he's seeing aghast

The impatient poet retries again
A simple relapse it won't happen once more
As he's rushing, he didn't learn from the past
Poetry needs time, he noticed at last
I tend to write too fast and too eager to find the right words and when writers block strucks I don't give myself enough time. What more is there to say...
"Poetry needs time, he noticed at last"
philosober Jan 2014
#4
I was waiting here, for that woman who gave me love
I told them she was my star shining from above
I waited and waited till the midnight bell rang
From my disappointment I sang
"Everyday I wake up from my dream
And say that was sublime
I wish the clouds could hear
And then they'd cry my tears
Those tears of regret
Just because you fell down and left
And destroyed our dreams and hopes
And all those empty roads
That I had given up just for you
Who made you leave tell me who
I guess I was living in a bunch of lies
Before I ran out of retries"

We used to walk to a church a couple of miles away
We admired the beauty and kneeled to pray
We liked to visit a park in early spring
I'd push her while she sat on a swing
I don't know what was on my mind
It was her love that kept me blind
The reality, I could not find
With her, I left all my problems behind
I remember the first time we met
It was at a party at sunset
We gazed into each other's eyes
15 years ago, how time flies
The memories pass in my head
I can't remember how many times I've said:
"Oh Lord, gracious Lord, tell me why
Why did she have to fly
I can feel her spirit crossing seas and rivers
Would you tell me why she left her lover
Without her I'm a blazing sun without calming rain
Without her I'm a man without the blood in my veins
Oh well I wanted to take her to Spain on our honeymoon
And maybe serenade her under the light of the moon
I turned her frowns upside down
She made me wear a golden crown"

And one winter I remember well
A first lovely snow fell
And after it had covered valleys and mountains
We went and hid in a small cave
Shared our love like we never did
And that ended our story forever
But I'm still waiting for her
Even after the midnight bell rings
I still need to tell her things
Still need to push her on a swing
Still need to gaze into her eyes
But I'm not a god and I have no power
So at her doom stone I placed a flower
                                                          ­      *p.t.
This is an old poem i wrote when i was eleven, but it's really special to me since it's one of the first things i really wrote.
King Shout Mar 2015
-They say my head's up in the clouds
The way I speak, think, some would label it as "loud."
I'm unable to deny; thoughts fuse themselves with my specific imagination
No retries, I simply cannot falter. This is what will finally earn me that craved standing ovation.

-First things first, don't you dare look down on me
That ill-thought notion in itself is just a tragic catastrophe
Refusing to put in effort, here I stand
Life ahead of me now? Not a single second planned.

-I'm a joke. A simple disgrace.
A huge understatement to say you hate the sight of my face
I've no excuses for my recent nihilism
I'm free but also bound; psyche imprisoned.

-But your disgust is irrelevant to this entire tangent
I'd do everything again with absolutely no regret
My "loud" thought process is simply contradictive
Parts of my mind nothing more than vindictive.

-Venial in it's purest simplicity
Certain situations exemplify my irrefutable superiority.
So keep it coming, your spited words don't hurt,
"Head in the clouds," expectations similar to dirt.
Last one for today. Wrote this one a while ago, thought I'd post it.
Jay Bryant Jun 2013
Concrete walls, floors, and ceilings solo like solitaire is how I'm feeling my mind locked up solitude so they can
so they can't hear me. Tho they feel my heart beat deep beneath the fears that scare me
How dare me? How dare I live life long and true hoping for paradise.
I live my life watched my sacred eyes, they say they've lived through pain but care they bare mines.
Trial after trial, files document mines, Minds pill under the facts after the fact the truth are lies, they live under my light dim lights never shine, that’s fine a light is bright, but that too will die, closed in cloths, wrapped in shame, eyes are crazed but mine are sane ... The past haunts us all but this my battle, scars build on top of scars, pain of the past building a plethora of burdens.... This isn’t just a shame, this game... The game we all play, called life
This game called life but there are no resets or retries, if it gets real and you down to ride, then you down to die, because bullets have no name, and your clock is what they're trying to strike. Your time is the biggest lie, because all you know is a fraction growth human beings are starting to show. All you know is the space where your mind lies, but don’t forget you mind lies. Deceived by your own perception, relieved by hoes affection this deception runs deeper than a touchdown pass, and no matter how many Hail Mary’s you say. You may drop the ball and throw it away. Regress to a place you've already been take a step back and try it again
So listen my faired friend , in life we can hold hands but walking by side to side , not living through others eyes, my life is so magnetized , try not to be compromised , you see the struggle from far , don’t make it seem like your blind,
Take a breath .. Let us all relieve stress... Don't Call it a big step.. For us all ; we need help... Life is just a war... For war begets war... But understand my man, this is all a plan to cost more... If I’m struggling and I’m tumbling, just reach out or scream and shout but life is crazy no one can play me, I’m no console, put the games way please...
This is my; fraction of classlessness; or my small ghetto passion for bashfulness... Look out your tunnel vision and see the world, not all are rich not all have girls not all have the smarts not all seem to shine cause in this crazy world MANY PEOPLE ARE BLIND.
By Jay Bryant and Rodrelle DeAndrade
she lived the perfectly edited life
far removed from winks of fire, or the heartbreaks of ice
believed her worst fears when they told her horrible lies
eyes never daring to drink in the real blue skies
treasured pixels always poke her back
but they'll never give her the hug she really needs
cue a million pictures
neatly ordered and
expertly filtered
curated and staged
perfectly acted
never fully present
always facing just the right angle
bulletproof lips worn as pink armor
clinging to a fairytale told by corporations
that they may grow their monopolies and shares
that she may avoid the awkward moment
when she realizes that
one day
she's truly gonna die
no tweaks
no edits
no retries
just this mysterious message in her inbox
the one you just read
asking two simple questions:
are you awake?
are you ready to try?
King Shout Mar 2015
Butterflies in my stomach
Scarlet hue painting my cheeks
One slip up and my plan could plummet
No retries, this is final, I've been thinking about this for weeks!

Palms moist now with nervousness
Notions in my head telling me, "This is silly, isn't it?"
I'm still practicing this in the bathroom for perfectness
Deep breaths, encouragement.

Countless broken self promises to try and pull this off just right
Doubts dispelled by the rhythm of my intense heartbeat

This is the only time, definitely the only chance
Parting my quivering lips, I try to say
"Uhm, hey, Cindy. Do you want to go to Friday night's dance?"
Denied harshly, I was, yes, however I still think about how I love Cindy to this very day.
King Shout Mar 2015
This imbecilic idiot
Is such a ***** hypocrite,
Claims he doesn't like something
Then he goes and does it.

This idiotic little ****
God, I'm so sick of him!
Swears on everything he'll do something...
Another broken promise. So much for "King."

However, this little idiot isn't all that bad
Sticking his neck out for his friends, that's pretty effin' rad.
Cheering on others with his honest stupidity
The fort of his forte? Creativity.

But he's so **** gullible, it's hilarious.
Emotions easy to sway, nearly nefarious.
Realization of foolery causes him to become precarious
Trying to get it off of his chest, so tedious.

He drifts off to a point where he can evade his emotions
Lulling to a sense where his humanity has become atrocious
Satisfied with his faulted life at a rate hellacious
Never a ruse - wash, rinse, and repeat the sequence.

An Optimistic Nihilist, so sick of the lies
Of the retries, rehearsed lines
Broken minds, psyche blinds
Snapped ties, subliminal signs
Wasted times, goodbyes
Wiping the tears from his eyes.

Wearing an invisible mask
Though enjoying life as if it weren't a task
His moniker never known to the world
His name is K- no. It won't be revealed to the world.
Please leave a like if you enjoyed, thanks a million for reading.
Emma May 2019
Time prickles its victims
Death spikes out families and
Life gives no retries
Another poem for my final project for art journaling class
Ashmita Feb 2013
Are those sparks I see?
I think I’ve seen them before,
Those magical moments,
When life slows down
For you, and only you.
When possibilities of skipping heartbeats arise,
When breath fails you
When your eyes are locked
Hand entangled
And you are, finally, warm.
You wake up, though,
Only to find the company who cradled you,
Lost; like the sneaky night,
Which slipped away
Leaving you behind
For reality and the bitter world
To dawn upon you.
And it all happened behind shut eyes.
You were blinded by nature,
And you will be again.
Because it takes several sparks
Several tries and retries
To get a fire going.
Cedric Sep 2021
Success entails sacrifice.
People will fight the good fight.
When will it suffice?
When will you hear our plight?

We forge a path to paradise.
Burning bridges to reach the light.
Is it worth it to cut our ties?
Burning just to shine bright?

Stockpiled innumerable retries,
Power on with irreversible blight,
Pushing until one of us dies,
Its me or my dreams tonight...

Husks and ghosts arise,
Ascending like a child's kite.
Living their dream of lies,
Sacrificing their own sight.

Go on and take a bite,
Hear out those distant cries,
Sacrifice your own might,
Be one of the forest fires!

Your dreams may be forthright.
But is it worth your lives?
Everything may be alright but-
Will your life be the sacrifice?
A reflection of my college life, losing my sanity and turning numb, I struggle to find the truest sense of why I am here and what I want to do. I sacrificed to maintain those numbers yet they served no real purpose... and now I'm lost.
Kevin Nov 2019
Dear little poem...
I write you on a piece of paper
With fifty shredded retries in a bin
With red blood in my vein poisoned
And black ink in my pen spilled...
I'm a psychopath...a demon that eats the daily light
A zombie infected with a virus called love...
And I fantasize everyday about who i was
As I  keep hitting my head into this wall
For answers without questions
Because I know...I'm a freak who doesn't know anything about love
Even though you would be standing on my door with bruises i cause
Just to apologize on my behalf...
I don't think I stole your heart
Murdered is a right term
And jailed in eternity of regrets
And now you're packing up this garbage of sweet nothings
Called memories to whatever distance relationship they call six feet under
Dear little poem...
I admit I'm a sucker who can't admit his shame
Cause I'm a crazy cursed twisted insane and creepy ******* with a rotten heart attached to these...stitches skipping every drum beat breathing every tantrum of breath
And Crazy **** I said
Whenever I was sad, mad and angry
But really whenever I had to rewrite my inborn mistakes
From your beginning smile to my ending regrets...
Thinking I've puked enough from that beer
Leaving my rage showing you the true ugliness contained in my eyes
From this melagra
Which is hard to feel
And I'm under suffocation, cause you left me numb
Visualizing you on plain paper without super vision
You said the flower faded...from riddles to ancient youth hidden in you
The same love I shredded...
But that's pointless
The fact is... I never deserved you...
And now I'm eating off my own white shadow
Caged in you with birds of thorns singing hallelujahs drowned in my own worries...
I guess all I'm trying to say are my sincere apologies
Chandy Oct 2021
A doll with needles
Painted with my initials, it is me
Taking pain from others
Stabbing it into my chest
So much of it, I want to reduce it
Normal for a little
But everyone has a lot
Extreme tolerance comes in handy
Idly waiting for something to change
Sorry to disappoint, nothing will
Allow me to be the stepping stone
On a path to recovery
Why care about myself when I can save multiple?
Life is one chance
No retries
So for now, let us talk
I can't save them all
But I can guide someone
For we all love to give advice
Yet never follow what we deliver
As someone who has listened
Let me be the one to bring tranquility

— The End —