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"ricochetting" poems
I'm a puzzle waiting to be solved. Complicated. That jumbles their minds. A puzzle with my broken pieces scattered all along the lanes and roads on the map of my dark dark life. They try to find my fragments and they fail. I'm built of shattered words of hope tripping on trails of self doubt. And with strangled emotions ricocheting against the walls of my soul. The hollow echoes of those sweet lullabies that reverberates through my mind, making no definitions, leaving me empty. And it's only numb pain rebounding within my veins. As they crack open my walls of security. All there eyes scruntinize me under their cruel disgusted gazes as I slump to ground and shiver, bleeding my wounds again and again. I can't be who I am. And after a million lost battles I surrender. And accept its only darkness that defines me.
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Dec 13, 2015
Dec 13, 2015 at 4:58 PM UTC
Ricochetting within me
*Your promises are wintry sunrays, Streaming into my pupils Through the festival of skyscrapers. Here on the road, Cold gray stones are lying still, To be caressed by your mustard gold, Saying, "Hold." And I'm holding, Moving yet clinging to your song, Like gravity admires every moment The tangibility of earth, The way sensibility overflows from Its liquefied core. Peaceful easy feeling surrounds me Whenever you open your lips. Voice, subtle and slow Paint my walls with a glow that only Speaks to snowflakes. And I collect them, thinking How they will melt on your hidden skin That is so pale and bright At the same time. Patience it is, Between us, letting me draw words One after another, Letting me hope that I can make you come back To a home, that has no ceiling no floor, Only arms, Constantly ricochetting The pure silence of my prayers.*
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Dec 25, 2016
Dec 25, 2016 at 8:43 AM UTC
Holding On
yeah, she laughs [*that's what got her <big>,, that laugh that breaks ricochetting h e a rts and puts three--month--old(s) to shame} but her heel broke at four am on her way out your back door and her mascara hates rainy days (::and, oh, it was rainy.;;
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Jan 10, 2015
Jan 10, 2015 at 1:35 PM UTC
miriona tāra pēpi
My effortlessly available voice is deep fording. It seems to be calmly enjoying while giving heed to the deepening silence. I am constantly ricochetting for finding my way to get along with the relaxed pace! It is all performed for trying to feel you in the spontaneity of my heart! I know my primaeval emotions are struggling to find an inner magnitude that aspires to become rhapsodical! I am crying! My efforts are glaring to get rid of the ascendancy of futility and its control over myself! I want to pour some loveful lines by seeing what is lying inside! ©️shivpoetesspriya
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Sep 9, 2021
Sep 9, 2021 at 5:21 AM UTC
A whispering sun for my mourning self!