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#poems of life
getcareless · 1 month
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Triolet Poem #39
I guess this is the waiting game, so I'll be stationed. By the tree, You will not find me chasing fame. I guess this is the waiting game; a subtle switch or stay the same. This is the time to wait and see, I guess this is the waiting game. So I'll be stationed by the tree.
"By The Tree", JEP
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marineashnalikyan · 1 year
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marianadelmarrr · 8 months
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Maritime forest
We synchronize the children with our polyrhythmic afrobeat
Transfixed,
Our eyes as their anchor,
Ardent eyes burn darker,
our ancestors living through us, Yang feels it.
Yang’s presence speaks for itself.
A fire burning in the forest, arousing envy, most of us don’t burn bright anymore,
Yang a real man with a real life who knows pain, misery, anger but also joy, healing, control, wisdom, and balance. He raps and sings in any space, he’s not afraid of mortal things. He implants seeds into the mortal youth, they’ve lost their minds in a sad existence, they’ve never burned like Yang.
Life’s more beautiful when you can scat amongst the forest fires.
Only Yin truly understands his scat. Yang guards her from the cold breeze he can feel is approaching Yin twenty miles away.
Yin knows anger and defeat but sings to heal herself and the earth, to bring it back to its knees, birds singing, peace. She hums by the water. The earth bends to her will after years of suffering. The children can blossom under the cold day, some call her mother, some call her Yemaya, often forgetting where they come from.
Yin and Yang’s love burns,
Water and fire come alive
In this maritime forest,
They feed each other for generations,
They will feed you…
-Mariana
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rieroe · 10 months
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I’m sorry I never got the chance to make you a painting. I would paint your favorite thing, I’m also sorry I never found out what your favorite thing is.
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pathlesswandering · 1 year
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Confessions
I want someone to love me
Because I can’t admit
That I won’t live the dream I’ve dreamed
Ever since I was a kid
I think I’d sell my liver
And parts of my own soul
If it meant you’d love me
I’d let you have it all
I want to be the one you pick
Even if you pick me last
But I’d die to be the one you pick
Without having to ask
And it gets worse as time goes on
I cant wait even describe
The way I wish that I’d be seen
By anyone with eyes
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“Back On Neil Ave”
Sunday morning and I’m alone again,
Shuffling around my empty apartment.
I sit and think of another life of other potential,
Of grocery shopping together as it rains.
I push the cart even though it squeaks,
You read the list off in a singsong voice.
You talk about making candied jalapeños,
I groan and wonder aloud how that’ll taste.
Oh but you’re my honey hearted man you say,
You laugh so softly and I smile slowly.
In this life we have never been cruel,
And I went to therapy early and got sober.
In this life we never said anything terrible,
And on this morning I’m not alone.
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thebrellowaesthete · 2 years
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THE FEAR WE ALL HAVE
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Sometimes we are too hard on ourselves
Or let's say insecure,
We are countless miles away
From believing we are human
At the end of the day,
We could be fine, we're not
Our words are put in secret, unexplored shelves
We know that healing can be difficult
If we keep coaxing silence into ourselves.
But our inner self may not allow us
To have a space of our own,
Maybe since our older times and younger days used to feel better,
Than now, when we're all grown.
Our cup of tea may have felt lukewarm,
A sip of our orange juice may have felt cold,
We may be wondering what to do anymore
It might feel like we're quickly getting old!
I wish we could still tell ourselves to watch around
And look how worse others are
Some are sick, tired and risking lives,
While some are trapped in profound scars.
Some may be warriors of some deadly disease
Whose lives were simple and plain,
But after the monster came unannounced
They had to bear with illness and pain.
Unlike the minor scars of cuts and wounds,
That would make us howl and scream,
Some may be the agony of the valiant soldiers
Whose hearts are scarred with unfulfilled dreams!
-Ritisha Gupta
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seraphim88 · 2 years
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be deeper than that by Gianna Sozzi
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emotionalwords · 2 months
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thoughtcascades · 10 months
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I come from a long line of people with something wrong with them
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reallybadblackoutpoems · 10 months
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meditations on first philosophy (1641) - rene descartes
"who give a shit"
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getcareless · 1 year
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Generated
Generated by you
these parts stayed too long
and I’m going to the moon.
I left with too many white lies.
It’s over.
Your face tells it all;
about last night and
about your lips.
My mind and my space went all in it.
Spirited away, I felt the stars.
Oh, I’m not an actor but I’ll be
anyone you want me to be.
JEP
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marineashnalikyan · 2 years
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In the Park
My Father smiles,
runs across the park,
lifts me up
and twirls me around.
I hold on tight
as the curls swing
away from my face.
Look, he says,
pointing to the crescent moon—
I made that for you.
Pg 92 of my poetry book The Moon Taught Me 🌙
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fromdarzaitoleeza · 5 months
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{Quotes marguaxpoetry on Instagram / Sarah Kay}
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thoughtkick · 22 days
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You are so brave and quiet I forget you are suffering.
Ernest Hemingway
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flimythings · 1 month
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"you cant heal if you pretend you're not hurt"
-filmythings
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