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Vicki Kralapp Aug 2012
You’ve made me believe that today I can fly, that I can touch the stars as I pass by.
You carry me past galaxies floating on clouds, wrapped in a dream and loving out loud.
The magical carpet that sweeps me away, leaves me breathless, helpless, wanting to stay
on Kryptonite, that mystic existence beyond, where time does not matter and magic abounds.

On top of a mountain on a planet beyond I cling to your safety and hold to your calm.
Can I speak of the beauty that you have shown me?  The doors you have opened, the wonders I see?  
My lips cannot form the words now in my mind, the heaven you’ve brought, the expressions now hide.
The life that I knew before this was full, yet lonely and bland, bereft of a soul.

I stood all my life alone, apart without you, now you’ve come to my rescue in your red and your blue.
I look at the others who have been there before, look back at their lives to what theirs had bore,
I smile at their journeys, as they’ll never know, for the heavens I’ve reached on my ride do not show.
The best part of the journey is yet to explore, as I take to the skies on my carpet once more.

I stand here with Superman close by my side on the mountain of Kryptonite ready to ride.
All poems are copy written and sole property of Vicki Kralapp.
It was during the Dangan days that I started losing everything, I had it all
and now there's nothing. When you're on top there's nowhere to go,
Better jump off than descend slow. Sometimes I wish I'd dived
right in; seeking these chemicals
to (k)no(w) satisfaction,
It's 'cause memory's not happening.

I need something that's intangible,
I fear it's gone away.
All the junkiesque rituals in the underworld
couldn't conjurer that place;
Only the apparition remains.
But I'll stay, because I found a poison; and it tastes good.

Now I'm a dope-dealing fiend,
And you know what?
I kinda like it. At the moment I feel like evil suits me,
If I had a vicious heart then I truly I could be
but I haven't got that in me. I just act and it relieves me.
Playing the drug-baron when I'm tired of the stick-monkey.
I'm doing it cause, just cause;
There's nothing left for me.
King Panda Dec 2017
the sun prowls around
its rocky master

and you
a shadow in its breath

your eyes closed
your hair blowing
like a brushfire
bleeding oolong

the brazen claps of
sunlight thunder
down upon your shoulders

a freckle appears

then another

then another

your sea of blank skin
now crushed
tiny islands
cooling you in
sun-drenched picture
Mary Gay Kearns Mar 2018
You're  here today in your spot
Where the footpaths cross
And a little to the left
Under those tall trees
On a patch of flat earth.

Across the grass to the right
The old Plane, magnificent
In structure spreads branches
Like a globe of lightest green
Catching the glittering  sun.

Your easel, an old brown relic
With leather carrying handle
Held together by a strap
Carries your canvas and paints
Whilst you wear a tweed cap.

And what I like, standing back
To watch, is the quiet consistency
Of observation; two living forms
Joining in the imagination
To create beauty and truth.

Love Mary
For Ian , my friend who,paints .
Love Maryx
Where Shelter Feb 20
~for Allison~

she loves your poetry,
ok you think,
cause you just love her his-stories of her/here life,
the children, the musician, nominate her as daughter,
her poetry and her yay’s spontane-us,
we are fan fanatical
of each other

and she describes us perfectly -

“So I am an idiot standing in a sad storm of letters that are unrelenting”

ok you think,
not bad, for surely
only the most precious things in life are

Carter Ginter Jan 2018
Even as tears stain your face
You've never been more beautiful
A gorgeous warrior
Fighting the battle that is your life
Typically intense and headstrong
Before me you're sensitive and hurting
You're so complex but
Your heart is pure and good
And I love every aspect of your existence
I'd hold you forever if I could
I want to save you from your demons
But I know I can't
So I'll be here with you through it all
Whether you're fine or not
I will always be here for you
Because I love you
And I know you can make it
I see it in your resilience
I feel it in your soul
You are undeniably strong
And I believe in you
Äŧül Nov 2012
In That Moonlit Night Standing In The Abaft,
Watching The Towed Flaccid Wooden Raft,
I Thought That I Saw An Angel Resting,
Lying Exhausted There In That Craft.

I Call The Girl Out Unbeknownst Of Her Kind Name,
"Hey Young Lady!!" To Which She Didn't Much Respond,
She Looks Up Towards Me Once In Anguish & Collapsed,
I Spot Desperation In Amber Eyes & Resolve To Help Her.

The Crewmen Had Now Been Doing The Paddles After Resting,
I Summon My Captain & Ask, "Do You See That Girl In The Raft?"
The Captain Now Smiles To Say, "Commodore, Better Get Married,"
I Look So Clueless To Which He Simply Replied, "There Is No Girl."

True He Was As She Had Simply Disappeared,
I Started Thinking Of My Sleep Needs That Day,
I Looked Around Again In A Hope To Find The Girl,
I Had Compromised My Routine As The Commodore.

Then I Immediately Realized It Was My Wild Phantasm,
Now This Was Just A Plain Illusion Of A Tired Sailor's Mind,
No Mermaids Could Have Ever Existed In Reality & Were Fake,
I Turned Towards The Deck To Go Back To My Bunk For Sleeping.

As I Climbed Down The Stairs To Enter My Room Amazed & Dazed,
I Saw Her Standing And Waiting For Me By The Side Of My Bunk,
I Accepted That Delusion Of My Mind & Started To Lie Down,
She Said, "I'm As Real As Your Thoughts, Don't Fear Me."

She & I-Me & Her, Had The Best Time That Night,
In The Morning She Was Gone & Was Just Gone,
Disappeared Into Thin Air While I Was Asleep,
Each Day I So Dearly Long For Her To Return.
7 Stanzas of a Beautiful Open-Eyed Dream

Read the entire Angel Saga by me, Atul Kaushal.

My HP Poem #19
©Atul Kaushal

I thank you all so much for the overwhelming response that this poem has received.

If you get interested in reading my novel's eBook after having read this poem then do visit for buying my story titled "7 Seconds" and supporting my medical expenses.
...seeing purse dressed, flowery-folds,
knows the pleasure, -heaven holds.

Standing proud, -cocksure his breast,
exhausted her, laugh-ter, -nothing left.

Weakly submissive, exhilarated now pressed,
emboldened by she, guardedly bereft...

No strawberry, cakes, honey, grape,
you know what's coming;
ronnie hunt Dec 2018
orange bodies in the
yellow light in the afternoon
green thumbs in the garden
blue lips at night standing at the crosswalk
liv Apr 14
i’m standing on the edge of a cliff.
i’m waiting for the wind to push me over the edge.
i don’t have the courage to jump.
the only thing that’s keeping me on the cliff,
is a shimmer of hope that someone will grab me,
and pull me away from the edge,
pull me to safety,
and they’ll squeeze me so tight
that all my pieces fit back together.
i’m standing on the edge of a cliff.
no one ever comes.
no wind ever blows.
JayceeJellies Oct 2014
Everyone is staring
You're trying so hard to stay standing
But your heart is racing
Instead of walking straight
You start wobbling

Your eyes begin to strain
You start feeling as if you just gained a lot of weight
Your heart sinks as you run away
You have to hide

You musn't let them see
The you that is scared to be seen
You feel like you can't even breathe
Your lungs are tightening
As you sink down against a wall
and take into the fetal postion

Just cry, maybe someday it'll be alright.
Kim Essary Aug 2018
Sometimes our eyes don't see even though they are wide open.
Mistakes are plenty but humbling ourself to admit them is few and far between.
Could we survive only on our needs instead of our wants?
Do most even know the difference?
So many things in life we take for granted.
Why is it so hard to compliment the things done right yet so easy to point out all you believe to be wrong.
The world as we use to know it was full of morals, manners and respect.
The world as we know it today is is full of rudeness, hate and violence .
A man use to stand for what he believed and his word his honor.
Now he stands behind nothing and speaks no words of what he believes or doesnt.
Who made the world as it is today I ask, as I already know the answer.
It's easy to blame our "leaders", our neighbors, or the generations before or after, but my friends, my brothers and sisters, if we speak the truth as we know it, it was you and I that changed this world when we stood silent.
If we all stood for what we believed in and stopped standing back in silence each and all of us are to blame for the ways of our world today.
I remember
Under the sublime light
Moves of
The romantic mosquito

Welcome refused
Repeller on
Romance dead
Genre: Experimental
Theme: Buzzing
Hollow Steve Dec 2014
Stricken by the absence of color,
and the absence of rainbows that once sung to me.

Nullified and numbed by the irrationality of my ego,
and my hatred for sanity.

These are punctured wounds by the hands of the stained glass,
as this shattered hourglass speaks gibberish to me.

I'll take all the blame,
it was all my fault anyways.

As if my world wasn't trippy enough,
the only thing standing in my way is you.

So let violence sing one last time...
Scream for me poetry.
Abbigail Apr 1
You are here. You are alive despite everything. the hurtful words and actions of others will break your heart and maybe even your bones but keep looking up from the mountain you stand on.

you stand tall, you may have scars and cuts and you might even still bleed but you're standing.
Classy J Jul 13
Alright look.
I know I started off as a villain, with my head stuck up in the ceiling.
Yeah I was fiending.
And under the control of demons.
Can’t lie I was a heathen.
Struggled since day one, was blue in the icu, doctors doing everything to get me breathing.
Me and momma was once on welfare, with rice being the only thing we could afford homie.
Some days I can’t lie that I was wishing every day that I would suddenly drop and die.
Because use for the longest time,
Life wasn’t worth living.
Grew up with gifts that defy all reason.
Thinking I was some demon.
Used to have faith that could split the red seas wide open.
But I grew up broken.
Clouded in anger and resentment,
That lead to unhealthy habits for coping.
Spent years wasted wallowing in my depression.
I was so suicidal man,
It’s like I was imprisoned.
Unable to process all of my emotions.
Which lead to over analyzing everything, and constantly stressing.
But too prideful for suggestions to get me out of my dismal settings.
Always second guessing.
Wondering if God created the wrong person to complete his vision.
Why was I given this mission?
Why do I have to learn these tough lessons.
For I’ve been bullied,
I’ve been beaten,
Ive been abandoned,
Betrayed and defeated.
Yet I’m still standing.
Yet I’m still breathing.
I even once Had a knife to my heart,
Believed that everything was falling apart,
Wrote a goodbye letter and everything.
But my mother helped believe that I was actually worth something.
And my pain wasn’t for nothing.
And I’m still standing.
Yeah I’m still standing.
So Throw all your stones,
It’s ok,
Break my bones,
But I won’t break.
Say what you need to say.
I’ll still pick up my cross every day.
Yeah I won’t break.
For we’re not granted another day,
So I got to make the most with what I have each day.
And at night I get on my knees and pray,
Praying for our world because it’s in such a disarray.
With chaos and confusion,
Ain’t no where a peaceful place to stay.
But that’s okay.
For the Lord never once promised that life would ever be easy.
And when my time finally comes,
I know my pain will be taken away.
For I’m still standing.
Yeah I’m still standing.
So, Throw all your stones,
It’s ok,
Break my bones,
But I won’t break.
Say what you need to say.
I’ll still pick up my cross every day.
Yeah I won’t break.
Seanathon Jun 1
Somewhere in a meadow
Beneath the rows of fielded corn
Between the sky, above a water way
Where a million tiny ears are born
And listening to the winds of voice
To the cackle of crows driving away a hawk
Living there, somewhere amongst a meadow seeded
Are a thousand, growing, listening stalks
All born to stand, but not to walk
It's no crime to stand. Not all are meant to walk.
Mary Gay Kearns Apr 2018
Standing on this wintery day of branches in May
Take from your mark a measurement between
Thumb and brush
And in proportion place it down
On canvas neatly primed
To pinpoint those places sound
The sky and the ground .
Slowly as each day allows
Measuring, a steady streak
Of edgily painted parts
The picture to complete.

Love Mary
Ian painting in the park love Mary ***.  Ratio proportion
Cweeta Cwumble May 2016
I followed my dear friends to the edge of a cliff
and was greeted by a peculiar thing.
There, standing on the edge of the earth
was a swing set waiting just for me.
Her thick black seat and strong metal arms
cradled me while together we flew
into the starry night canvas, sprawling
dark blue, except for a splatter of twinkling
firefly-speckles, from the cityscape
to the moon.

Each time she lifted me I felt closer
to the heavens. I raised my chin
and let the gentle kiss of raindrops
wash away my sins, cleansing
and revitalizing my body like a baptism.
I’ll never forget the smell of the rain
on the freshly-sprouted grass, with dew drops
made from the breath of my friends
hanging delicately in the sweet air
like glass beads strung on a wire
while the crisp wind carried me higher and higher
and the most brilliant masterpiece ever created
was painted across the entire night sky.
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