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nabila s Jul 2018
afraid of having you wholefully
for a fear of losing you pieces by pieces, slowly
from trapping you inside of me 24/7
to letting you go entirely
by saying i love you each and every single night
doesn't mean i want to be yours
i just wanted to feel, be loved, by loving
in case i don't get any of you
either because you're not used to me
or you choose not to
it doesn't matter
cause every time
my eyes scream 'you look beautiful' in every light i met you
my heart runs a marathon for the hope of welcoming yours into mine
even my nose sense a tragic yet desiring story of one who fell so deep
one became so in love
and for each time you smile, not for me, for who, but the world,
my existence has been blessed for letting you be one of thousands i've seen
one of hundreds i know
one of few i befriend
one of one i fell for

and when the time comes,
i know my invitation never really went away
still, didn't give up yet.
Myaja Black Aug 2018
I built a flowerbed last night to soften my landing
                      because I always seem to fall  abruptly
                                My lover promised to catch me
                       He said Sunflowers are something to hold on to
                             So he puts his hands on my hips and
                              tightens his grip as I loosen my heart he feels me expanding
making room for all that he has to offer
                         Welcoming him in and welcoming him home
                       Cuz I've been away from my Sun for too long
                      You ever seen a sunflower grow without the light
     It's possible but I always find myself growing in the direction of his warmth
                                       He asks me how does it feel
                            cautious to make sure he's giving me enough
                                             I tell him I want it all
                  because who doesn't want a love without measure
A poem about my current love life.
maria k May 2019
802 Bun Drive
Bun drive in Woolsbury, Horshire
With its crooked sign dripping with water
A doorbell oiled and glistening with an odd feeling of warmth
As if this was done to hide all the beautiful mess underneath
Like when an eraser hides the mistakes one makes
But these mistakes should be highlighted
for they are a part of one's identity

I knocked once but nothing happened
And I thought he may not be home
Welcome I said to myself
Even without a welcome sign or mat
I just knew welcome was to be imagined in our heads
when a house is so welcoming...
this is an excerpt from my poem story called Mr.Mashoo
Stephen E Yocum Jul 2017
I rolled out of bed
to start my day,
but the power was off
my all electric home,
as still as a grave.
No coffee, or toast.
The refrigerator not cold,
the freezer started dripping
the contents soon to spoil.

No computer, no cell phone service!
I began sweating profusely,
no air conditioning to cool me.
Not even a TV Emergency Broadcast Alert,
to release this uneasy feeling of topsy-turvy .

I drove into town seeking a pay phone,
with not a single one to be found,
gone the way of the dinosaurs,
extinct now too I assumed.

My old truck had no computer chips,
most cars did and were dead in their tracks.
I needed gas but the gas station pumps
electric computer driven, all DOA to boot.

The Nations electric grid had crashed,
blacked out, stone cold dead everywhere.
All heavenly satellites blacked out, expired.
Everything computer related (and
that is about everything), had ceased
to function as had the electronic reliant
world we had created.  

The street throngs of dazed people walked
around like zombies, clutching blacked out
dead computer devices, knowing not what to do.
Not even talking, forgotten I guess how to do that too.
As dependently defectively programmed as the useless
devices in their hands.

In a panic I did awake finding that
this scary dream world was indeed all fake,
a nightmare of fearful unconscious thinking.
My electric clock was still churning,
It's music alarm blaring,
birds outside still singing,
my cell phone started ringing,
it was merely another Robot call,
Welcoming me back to the 21 century.
Imagine if you can some man made device or solar flare
knocking out all the satellites in space and computers on
earth, then this nightmare is not so far-fetched.
I actually did have this unsettling dream. The possibility
of this reality does indeed exist.
Welcome to the new year
Another year of pain
Of tears
Of trying to be the example
That your siblings look up to.
Another year of depression
Another year of anxiety.
Another year of trying to hold everything together.
But welcome to the new year,
And I can only hope that it will be better than the last.
Welcoming in the new year, 2019.
Poetic T Mar 2019
Malignant gazes warped the
the fabric of the air around me.
I couldn't do anything but tell
her that to wish upon a dying star
                          will never end well.

The atrocity that clung to the ships
hull, was no less human now than
    the artificial meat 3d printed..
It taste liked chicken,
but..
            there were no eggs in space.

Words like plasma cannons fired
around me bouncing off the walls.
Ok, ok listen I didn't do this to you!
Your the penny that could pay the price,
and this is your tarnished self pity.

I wasn't having any of her grief,
       though it could vacate me with ease.
Standing before her I said I could less
cure her than breath in space..

With that she raged in a language
of ferocious exasperation.
I knew that it was time to vacate her
need for some sort of vengeance.
I'd got the necklace on under my garments.

Pointing my pistol at her, she smirked,
             then a gargled laugh spat out.
That toy cant harm me, is this your last
stand what a pointless endeavour..

Now it was my turn to smirk,
        I don't know if it was panic
or confusion to why I was laughing.
            like a hyena knowing that the
pray had just cornered itself.

With that I shot past her, like a
random act, I still laughed loudly.
And then a buckling ache approached.
As the hull cleaved open like a piñata
hit feverishly by an excited child.  

As we where exhumed from our coffin,
suffocating in the emptiness of my actions.
I could see her fear, no matter her augmentations,
nothing could survive the vacuum of space.
I pressed upon my chest, my nanite suit
encompassing me.
            I was like a new born taking a first breath


Looking at this sorrowful figure, floating
in to the abyss. I knew I was partly to blame.
But now was not the time for respective thoughts.
This was about survival, and I used the small thrusters
to edge closely to the air lock.
                       Time to move on, time to breath deeply.
satin slats
plumped slick
sepal pearls
Elysium entreats
welcoming warm
Papa Killu Sep 2019
Why would you expect us to write you pretty poetry
When you reject our every tear?
You tell us "Shut up and bleed" when we're in pain,
"Come back to us when we can use you again",
"We feel good and gloating about all the great we've done",
While the other half rots alone.
You want more words, if you can benefit.
If not, you'll say your hate for us is love
And we should cheer up, shut up
And be happy, for You.
After all, you're so loving -
Why wouldn't we be?
"Why wouldn't we be 'loving'?"
"Why wouldn't we be happy?"
"Why wouldn't we be happy for you?"
The beginning of a series of comments on people rejecting those who speak the truth because they only want to hear soft, "nice" things. Which of course is incredibly selfish and CREATES people who are in pain because they are not heard, and have thus been abandoned by society.
Morgan Mercury Jan 2014
It's so quiet.
It's so strange.
I've never heard silence so loud before.
The drum beats loud and echoes out
leaving us alone in this emptiness.
Come on, love
don't leave me hanging from this cliff.
Don't leave me alone to die.

I know times are hard and you can't stand on your own,
but that doesn't mean you have to leave.
Don't run away from this pain.
Just come into my arms and stay.
At the end of the day
the rain will be blown over and all the flowers will be bloomed.
Even the toughest storms leave beauty for the eyes to love.

Don't get swallowed up in the shadows.
I'll be your light.
I'll guide you,
just follow my feet.
I'll lead you into me and hold you until your numb.

You're standing in the ocean
welcoming the salt water into your body.
Dry your eyes and swim to the shore
because I'll be waiting there.
Just please don't go.
Because if you leave I might just have to follow.
2014
ryn Feb 2015
I wish me invisible
I want to disappear
I am but a damsel
Parading in knight's gear

I want to be the unknown
I need to be again a stranger
I wish my secrets not shown
Back to a time when it was clearer

I wish to be a zephyr
I want to be felt not seen
I need to be less of the liar
At least lesser than I have been

I crave the comfort of solitude
I long for the absence of physical contact
I miss the tears that once had ensued
Somehow then I was more intact

I want to be an undetermined star
I need to be unnamed in an uncharted galaxy
I wish to retreat behind my avatar
So you won't see the real me

I wish me invisible
I want to be protected by ambiguity
I need to disappear from this debacle
Into the welcoming arms of anonymity
Nat Lipstadt Aug 2013
What poem will you wear, when first we meet?

How will I recognition-you,
when you transverse my land?
Unknown our faces, our voices,
Only silent words electronic exchanged

Will lantern, it be: one, if by land, two, if by sea?
Will your ID badge, passport stamped and state,
Your chest bear a witness-sign?

The Arrivals Board flashes:
                    une poétesse est arrivé
                    eine Dichterin ist angekomme
                    a poetess has arrived
                    una poetisa ha llegado

Will there be a haiku in your hair,
A limerick exposed by raucous grin,
Or just ten words
allotted for your entire visit?

Desperate to locate
Urgent to sensate
Matters I take
Into two cupped hands,
On the shoeshine stand
Climb and recite-shout

Know me by my words,
Know me by the lilt lyrical
Of my American accented,
Canadian Tongue of my mother

Know me by my words,
Carved by time on my forehead,
Poetry is the blood of this fool's soul,
Hear me, find me, look upon me slamming

Poems are the thorns in my palms,
See me crucified, bleeding stanzas
Upon my shoeshine stand cross
Recitation resuscitation welcoming:

Benedicting Gloria, Gloria, Gloria

But if this should fail your attention to secure,
Or the TSA unappreciate my second coming,
Look for the crowd gathered round,
A man of moderate height, in a tall hat,
Beard scraggly, looking sorrowful
Reciting the Gettysburg Address

Either way,
Should be easy peasy to find me,
Grab your bag, off to short-term parking

This is how an Americana poet meets n' greets
Arriving poetess from a foreign land

Is there any other way?
------------------------------
Postscipt
Alas, five years on and I know in my heart
that you are not coming...
Aug 2013
PC classic May 2016
The walls waved goodbye as I walked out the door
and it seemed like the sun was waiting because it shone brighter the moment
I stepped out
but the wind stopped blowing.
I guess it didn't care enough
and the trees were welcoming
and the hot concrete was welcoming
and after a while even the breeze came around
like a practical joke perfectly executed
and all was good until the I passed by a person a stranger and I felt like I didn't belong here
and the trees and the sun and the wind and the concrete seemed to understand
Sebastian Macias Nov 2017
What is life without
The intensity of pain?
When blood runs thick
Eyes are focused
The mind like a wildfire
Nobody sees the truth
The way truth
Should be viewed
I took it on a ride before
And now it has traveled back
After many long journeys
Welcoming me home
MY magic carpet of doom
Departure the welcoming light to walk slowly into the darkness

Wedged between night and day, for a split second

The splendor the Sunset Walker can see is captivating

Observing the color of the cloud's and sun's transformation

Seeing reflection transition flashed across the sky

The eyes take pictures of this wonder and describe it

So others can feel that they are walking along beside you.


Copyright 2013
All Rights Reserved
ryn Jan 2015
.
   Curious minds,
      splashing under
       moonlight
       With
      outstretched kisses
     pulsating yellow,
     Over the awestruck
      magical
       rainbow,
         Feverishly tracking each
         supernova
      on sight.


   Resting the moment
    on a
     cresting knoll,
    With
   an audience of several
   time-worn
     rocks.
      Whilst the
        whistling sirens
        in the winds do call...
          Wasting away
        the ticks of
     worldly
      clocks.


        Evading with class,
       all
       heart's turbulence,
        Craters of sadness
          congeal
           in thin air,
             Glamorous amnesia
             falls
          with cadence,
         Eyes wide shut,
         susurrating
          a
           lost prayer.


             Lifeless gazes
               yield
               only
             abrasive tears.
             As erratum
              catches up
                with its
                 gaping maw.
              Hurling
            its anguish
             in
             rips and shears,
              Bleeding out
                of
               singing wounds
             so raw.

             But...
              time carries confident,
                its stock of
                   soothing balm.
                   Latent doses
                 hidden
                within
                 invisible vials.
                  Welcoming vision
                    with its
                    sunlit palms,
                   Staving the longing
                    for the
                    fear of trials.


                      Now hushed
                         remain the remorseful
                        battle trenches,
                        Deprived of their own
                          victims
                           ­ save gaping wounds,
                            Only
                        ­     faint faith
                                commanding
                ­                   corroded limp
                                   forces,
                                 Stirring
                                light away
                               from
                                all
                        ­         agony
                                    and
                   ­                doom.



                              Moonskittles
           ­                 *ryn
.
This has been an amazing experience!!! Big thanks to Moonskittles for the opportunity to share a page with her captivating style of poetry!!!
.
Antino Art Feb 2018
South Florida
if you were a body part,
you’d be an armpit.

You’d be a bulged vein
on the side of a forehead
forever locked in a scowl
behind sunglasses.

You speak the language of horns
middle name, finger
blood type, combustible

You're a melting ***
that's boiled over the lid
sweating salt water at the brows
eyes red as the brake lights
in the maddening brightness,
you’re torrential daylight
heating nerves like greenhouse gasses
waiting for a reason to explode.

You’re a tropical motilov cocktail
no one can afford
2 parts anger, 1 part stupidity
melting in place, thirsty for attention
full of yourself in a souvenir glass with a toothpick umbrella
You're all image

You’re the curse words breaking out the mouths
of the angry line mob at Starbucks in the morning
You’re the indifferent silence
in the arena at the Heat games leaving early,
showing up late
due to the distance
from Brickell to Hialeah,
West Palm to Pompano
the gap between the entitled and the under-paid
a skyline of condos in a third world country
You’ve always been foreign to me.

You’re winterless, no chill
you attract only hurricanes
and tourists,
shoving anything that isn’t profitable
out of the way like the Irma storm debris
into the backyards of the Liberty City projects,
onto Mount Trash Can off the side of the Turnpike
hidden beneath Bermuda grass, lined with palm trees
you’re cold blooded
crawling with iguanas
blood-******* mosquitos
parking lot ducks and people not afraid to get run over
you get yours, Soflo
and you'll go as low
as the flat roofs of your duplexes
and the incomes that can barely pay the rent to get it
latitude as attitude
temper as temperature
if you were a body part
I swear you’re an *******

south of the brain, one hour
in all directions,
I’d find you.
You’d impose your way
onto my flight to the Philippines,
to Seattle, to Raleigh
You’d follow me like excess baggage,
like gravity,
bringing me back when asked where I'm from:

That area north of Miami, I’d say
(the suburbs, but whatever, we are hard in our own way)
I'd show you off on their map
as if some badge of grit,
certificate of aggression
I know how to break a sweat
walk briskly thru Walmart parking lots, drive evasive
ride storms in my sleep
I know you, I’d say,
“He’s a friend of mine.”
and I’d watch them light up
and recount
the postcards you've sent them
of the sunrise
welcoming brown immigrants
onto white sand beaches
You were foreign to us
yet raised us as your own
in the furnace of your summers
edges sharpened, iron on iron
the forger striking softness into swords
built for survival
I'm made of you

my South Floridian anger cools down
in your ocean breeze

if you were a body part,
you'd be a part of me
a socked foot in an And1 sandal
pressed to the gas pedal
as my drive takes me north
of your borders, far from home
You in the rear view mirror
tail-gating
like a sports car on the exit ramp
the color of the sun
Mena Mulugeta Aug 2019
Loving who I’m  becoming
the sound in the steps
i’ve made to progress.
The authenticity I hold
in evolution,I’m welcoming
optimism and gratitude
into the days ahead.
Kerri May 2015
Always  in the spotlight,
but coddled by the darkness
A bright, colorful flower
that never wanted to bloom
She pulled the sheer, black curtains
over her eyes,
welcoming the night
An arrow shooting into the Midnight moon
swallowed whole by wicked sin
Flirting with the Devil
and soaking in the evil serum
She turned her face away from
the beacon in the night
never to return again
Leaving to the world
just a ghost of a little girl
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