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  Dec 2015 xvy
Jude kyrie
the moon and L
by
Jude Kyrie

*I am so alone this night.
I hold a conversation
with my old friend the moon.
I whisper to him.
I feet so incomplete.
How  can all these years pass by
and leave me such a partial being.

My supportive friend answered me
I am seldom complete
sometimes waxing sometimes waning.
Sometimes hardly a flicker of a smile
Sometimes a ghost of a sad mouth.
Remember my human friend
You don't have to be
complete or full to shine.

He always makes sense
I guess he is wiser than humans
after all how many
millions of years old is he.

Then he gave me
the answer I needed
he mused softly.
His voice so magical.
So philosophical
I love him in this mood.

But when you are
feeling full or whole.
That is the time to shine the brightest.
To light up the world in the power
of your reflected completeness.
That is when you
will have the power.
The power to effect
every person on earth.
And even  move the oceans
  Dec 2015 xvy
Evelyn Silver
My head, my heart, they are empty,
producing, containing nothing.
Yet, they are stuffed to the max,
flooding with thoughts, emotions, worries, hopes.
How can one be so empty, yet so full?
I am a ghost existing,
alive and dead in this twisted world.
They drain us of vitality and fill us with emptiness.
We are the lost.
Don’t bother looking for us,
we are already gone, found.
xvy Dec 2015
Sometimes I fool myself into thinking that I miss only the place
But the truth is, it was you and the moment I was there with **you
Luna
  Dec 2015 xvy
m i a
i swear

when i looked

into his eyes

i saw so many unknown galaxies

universes, and skies

i felt like a scientist

eager to discover what was inside
im actually proud of this one.
xvy Dec 2015
You are but a reserve man of emotions
The one who answers only to yes or no
The one who stands in the corner of the room of every party
The one who chooses to be alone just so

But when you write, the world stops
To listen to the words you've woven
with beauty and intertwine with sorrow
To listen to the rhythmless music
where all the butterflies in my stomach dance to
To listen to the raging wave of sentiments for humanity
To listen and to feel the love and ache that the world chooses to neglect

You, you may crack the lamest jokes
But when you write, *the world stops to listen
Luna
  Dec 2015 xvy
Cíara McNamara
Do I write my poems,
Or do they write me?
xvy Dec 2015
Is it weird that I miss crying
Like crying because of
a good movie
a sad novel
a soulful song
or perhaps because
it hurts so bad
that all you can do is cry
and I miss it
because now
I just feel so numb
Luna
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