"She likes books, she likes me.. she likes to be held when the moonlight caresses her dreams. She likes it when I touch her just right, a tickle to be fancied along her thighs at night with a smile just for me to see.. she is like a book, at the least something sweet, maybe a book just for me that only my heart can read. She is confusing, almost as if she is a philosophy.. she likes science, she likes space. She loves it when I kiss her from her neck to her lips, and then drip those kisses between her knees.. spending time with her is like a journey into the chapters of her mind, and I find that I just need a little more time. Between the pages of her thoughts, sometimes hot, sometimes sweet.. but this I tell you, it is so sweet stroking the paragraphs of her needs."
I'm just saying maino.. sometimes things aren't as they seem.. a nightmare can easily become a pretty sweet dream - eUë
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IT WAS IN A MOMENT NOT OCCUPIED BY MUCH. WANDERING THE TREES IN SEARCH OF SUPPLIES, BENEATH THE BRIGHTEST, BLUEST SKIES.
IT WAS THEN THAT A STARTLING CAVITY HAD OPENED IN MY CHEST, RIDDLING ME WITH THE MOST UNNATURAL OF HUNGERS.
I COLLAPSED, AS THIS YEARNING FOR FLESH UNEARTHLY TWISTED MY INSIDES AND BLURRED MY MIND.
BUT THE ONE THING THAT SHOCKED ME MORE THAN THIS HORRIFIC AILMENT,
WAS THAT THE BLUE SKY WAS NOW ROSEY RED, AND IN ITS CRIMSON DEPTHS WRITHED TENDRILS UNCOUNTABLE.
BLANKETING ACROSS THE SKY, THE CLOUDS NOW PULSING IN TANDEM WITH THE BEAT OF AN UNSEEN HEART.
THE HORROR OF THE SIGHT GRIPPED ME UNLIKE ANYTHING ELSE, EVEN MORE THAN THIS ABHORRENT HUNGER THAT HAD OVER TAKEN ME.
AND THEN
after a million ticks.
and four more heart beats.
its gone.
and the sky and my stomach return to what they once were.
and i have no choice but to continue the day.
as usual.
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An untitled free verse poem written 3/10/2015, with metaphors I would one month later shape into this poem
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In her arms
sun sets
and rises
reborn
In her arms
moon hides
phased masks
to put on
In her arms
spring's first
warm breeze
picks up
the heat
In her arms
is where
I long
to be
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The Rhythmic Tapping
You fall from the sky
like a feather from a bird,
You make me feel loved
without uttering a word,
You're lifeless
Yet full of emotion,
So, please
fill my empty heart
like how you once filled the ocean.
The rhythmic tapping
against my window,
The subtle colors of a forming rainbow,
The delay between the thunder
and the lightning,
And watching the sky
-for a second-
brightening.
If the sky can scream and cry,
Then why can't I?
'Cause I have clouds of my own,
That sometimes get heavy too,
And unlike the sky, mine isn't shown,
Mine are heavy from constantly holding it back,
And some days i just crack,
In those days strength is what I lack,
In those days,
I wish for it to rain,
So, it could wash away my pain,
Along with the thoughts in my brain,
And
-once again-
Make me sane.
~Sayyidah
(I wrote this at 13 don't come for me pls)
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A poem my bhaiya wrote because I forced him to:-
त्याग, बलिदान का रंग है लाल
शौर्य के प्रतिको में करे केसरी कमाल
श्वेत रंग दर्शाए शांति और मैत्री
गुलाबी दिखाए प्रेम का सार
हरित करे धरती खुशहाल
वही नील घेरे अंबर विशाल
रंग हैं कई, तरंग भी ���ैं कई
कितने जीवंत करते जगत को देकर हमेशा ऊर्जा नई।।
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Midnight Storms
A little free verse poem I wrote at 1 am. It is pretty deep and means a lot so, I hope you enjoy.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I see you.
The way you look at me
You are scared.
Worried.
Scared I will go back to the way I have
Slowly been creeping.
Worried about what will become of me
Of Us.
I wander about the day
You see me the way I see myself.
But that will never happen
Because you are too good for that.
You adore me.
Not because you have to or because you can't
Get anything better
But because you truly do love me.
I wish I could look through your eyes
Full of pain
Full of dought
I am scared to see things the way you see them.
Fearful.
Of everything around you
Of course, I would be too
If I see the things you see
Or feel the way you feel
Heart on your sleeve
Head in the clouds.
But it's starting to rain
Clouds getting gray
People looking up,
But fail to see the stor,
That is coming
Anger.
That is what I feel
You try to help,
But I only push away
Seeking to destroy
All that is near.
All that is good
Scream and Yell
Push and Shove
Break and..
It's pouring now.
The clouds are dark.
People rushing away
Just like how they always do
Your mind is racing,
Seeking for the rainbow,
That has yet to come.
I wonder when you will realize
This is just who I am
I am the storm
In your head
Crying and Apologies
I am sorrys and
I love you.
It will never happen again
I am trying.
There's that rainbow
You always seem to fabriate.
Always making it feel like
The storm is away
And on to a brighter day.
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if you want more poetry in your life my biggest piece of advice (and maybe this is gonna sound obvious) is to get involved with your local writing community. see if there are writing circles at your local library, follow some local zines/magazines/publications on social media. some of the most amazing live-in-your-mind-rent-free lines I’ve ever heard have come from amateur poets in my local community
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Where are you now?
𝔸𝕊𝕂 𝟛𝟟: 𝕊ℂ𝔸ℝ𝕃𝔼𝕋 ✧˖*°࿐
Q oidm qb ug itt
Qav'b qb acxxwaml bw jm acvvg vwe?
Jcb ug ziqv ewv'b abwx; Ug ziqv ewv'b abwx
Bpm pmtt Q aie, dwqkma Q pmizl
Bpm lzmiua bpib Q twab kpivoml vwbpqvo ib itt
Q'u abqtt ug qvacnnmzijtm amtn
I passed out in the grass. It takes longer than usual for my senses to return to me.
Dawn breaks in the east. It grips it’s warm, unfeeling hands on the land; The blades of unruly grass sway with the leaves of fig trees and intertwined oak in the terrible waltz of daybreak. The damp dirt is earthy, dead tones of brown, accented with grey pebbles of deepslate. I lie, unmoving like the red sky, like red poppies; like dry blood. The sun paints the oleanders in holy shades of vermeil gold and scarlet.
I bask in the cool, damp, vastness of it all. My red hair, slick with rain and ichor. I soak in the lonely quiet. I'll get moving eventually, I just wanna stay here a little longer.
(end of arc 1)
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She told me I'm not a real boy and tried to run me over with her car
She laughed and said she's gonna steal & take from me everyone I love
That I'll be alone with nothing no one
And she took you and ran
And I stood alone in the rain alone in shock hurt
In shock in shock frozen in pain
Shatter!
Crack!!
CRACK!!!!
Truamtizing
Now I have truamtized bambi doe eyes again
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whys this so expensive got dang!!!
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RAINBOW MAGIC - Picture Poetry by Neha's Notebook
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that startled, glad
intake of breath, that sense
of blessing! Surely these sightings,
familiar but always
strange with unearned joy,
are a sign of covenant it's
grossly churlish to disregard.
Denise Levertov, "Like Noah's Rainbow", Sands of the Well
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Sometimes
Sometimes I feel ugly, and sometimes I feel pretty.
Sometimes I want to hide, and sometimes I want to show.
Sometimes I want to stay at home, and sometimes I walk to stroll the streets.
Sometimes I feel like I want to disappear, and sometimes I feel like I never want to go.
Sometimes.
But those sometimes.
ALL of those sometimes.
You’re there.
And you stay there.
All of those sometimes, all of those bads and goods.
You stay there, and you never leave.
You don’t sometimes leave, or sometimes stay.
Nor do you sometimes stay, or sometimes leave.
You always stay.
You always stay at my sometimes.
<3
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