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#love poem

I turn down other offers
As I sit here and wait for you to come back
The moon is full and bright this hallowed night
I should be shining alongside her
But I’m full of this darkness
This Vantablack soot which masks my persona
You were the only person who saw past the grime
And you told me you liked me for what was in my heart
When I didn’t even think that I had one
But I’m alone now, spending my days reminiscing
Sneering at gifts of bouquets of roses
I don’t need them if my soul is in bloom
I can’t let go of you
I can’t let go of you
I can’t let go of you

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Let’s go to the Cappuccino Coast

Where the ocean gets churned and frothy,

To the cliffs of Mexico plains of Africa,

Let’s build a fjord of the Tigris and Euphrates

To find the real Eden.


Let us float through villages of boats

Have our eyes struck dumb by the Himalayas 

And their persistence in sky climbing,

Grab our shovels and find chariot wheels

At the bottom of dried up sea beds.


We can travel the earth with our tongues

Taste every nation’s bread

Lets resurrect ancient dialects

That were stolen and now are dead.


We can face and defeat all sharks and spiders

Just to prove we’ve mastered fear,

But after let us just come right back here.


To the creaky steps and torn up carpet,

The windows that need mending

And laundry never ending.


Let’s do it all and see everything

Just to know in our heads 

What our hearts already clutch

That waking up next to you

Is the real adventure

The truest bliss I’ve known

Is the shiver from your touch.


- Vagabond Prophet

@inky-child

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Today I ran into your arms crying, 
Said I needed to feel wanted.

Tonight we talked for hours, 
Time passing as if it were candied. 

My mistakes and fear,
All but forgotten.

but

What about after I leave? 
When I’m still awake and you’re asleep? 

What about tomorrow?
When I remember everything I was worried about?

What about next week?
When I long so deeply for you again? 

I can never ask for your affection, 
I can only beg for it. 

You seem so far above me, 
Something priceless I’m not allowed to touch.

or

Something so fragile,
Something I’m just too scared to break.

Sometimes I worry that you’ll shatter,
Like colorful candied glass.

Beautiful and delicate, 
Too good for a brute like me. 

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لو كان لي قلبين، لا خذت جميع أحز انك واتعابك لتتضاعف في جسمي الضعيف، وتركت لك قلباً مليئاً بالفرحة.

If I had two hearts, I would take all your sorrows and troubles away, to let them multiply in my weak body, and would leave you with nothing but a heart filled with joy.

20 notes · See All

A poet’s parlance

I speak in a definite language

And

I have always been

Its bearer of words

Its trumpeter of lyrics

Its purveyor of choruses

I dissect letters

Piece by piece

Stitching metaphors

To common things

Like how I could compare

Sad tones

Of a violin playing

Somewhere in the distance

To midnight restlessness

Or how I add adjectives

Or verbs or nouns

To intangible things

Making them

Tangible

Or how I could make

The tangible

Intangible

Or make the intangible

Even more intangible

And vice-versa

Just like how I add the word

“Drop”

To the word “midnight” or how I add

The word “garden”

To the word “mouth”

And how I pull emotions from it

To make an entirely new poem

“Drops of midnight drench my skin

As your memories still smolder

Tonight I dedicate

Another poem,

Another shout into the void.

Do you still have

That garden in your mouth

Where people fall victim

To the snakes under its grass?

I remember how

You poisoned me with your words

And now

I have your words

Running through my veins

And now, I bleed words

On certain nights

Where your poison

Is too much to bear.”

In my words,

I could extend infinities

Make eternities last

A little longer

I could make intersecting worlds

And make silence be

Its primary language

I can make this poem be

An elegy to myself

Or just another set of words

Finding its way

In the back of my hard drive

This is my language

Intangible, inscrutable, indecipherable

Incomprehensible,

Incoherent,

Impossible.

Layers upon

Layers of meaning,

Metaphors

Upon metaphors,

And yet

You will never get lost

In this maze of

Verboseness

This is my metaphorical language,

The tongue of the damned,

The dialect of the broken,

The words of the uncommon.

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Just yesterday, in my privacy, a badly wounded little bird took flight
and allowed herself to think for a moment that you were beautiful.

He, who dances with the stars,
with shining lights like grooves in his dimples,
crouched in his indecipherable eyes.

Honestly, I run the risk of getting lost in him and
not find the way back home that one day I already lost.

Fool, your smile bathes the earth of the blood that covers its bowels.

It’s your fault, now the water of my soul is poured
into the transparent drops of your two-syllable name.

Two wings, my wet eyelashes.
A butterfly forgetting the glass of her prison,
the throat dry before so many verses enunciated
in the lonely absence of my nights.

But my love is in the rain.

Words, words, words…

And yet I am mute over the crimson sop in the equator of your mouth.

He, who dances with the stars.
Looking at you I am lost in a fire,
you are stabbing a slanted knife in a wound without time.

Thus I surrender, in the dark, with an open heart.
I surrender, my moonchild love, I surrender to you.

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Even if it’s just me

Even if it’s just you

Even if the world is nothing without you.

I still be the one

Who only needs you,

As the living things need water.

As the sky needs blue.

As the garden needs a gardener.

As the foodball needs a player.

As the truth needs proof.

As the girl like me need you.

I love you,

As you did too.

But now you’re gone

And I flew too.

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What’s Wrong with Me

I’ve spent my whole life watching girls I love

Love other guys more than they ever did me

Went above and beyond for him

But never for me


I’m a little hesitant to open up and admit

When I catch feelings for a girl

Because it’s always one sided

I’m traumatized from it


Is there something wrong with me ?

Am I ugly ?

Is it my personality?

It feels like I’m wearing women repellent


Never said I was perfect

But I’ve come across so many girls

That rather be with a guy that raises their fist

And cheat then to be with me


I know I’m a million miles from perfect

I’m a working progress

But I honestly feel I’m worth it

But my lack of attention I get from females

Makes me feel worthless


I’ve been on the shelf so long

I’m collecting dust

Doesn’t feel like nobody is in a rush

To pick me up


What’s wrong with me ?

@buttonpoetry @lifeinpoetry @love-personal @lovepoems-lovequotes @poems-and-word @poetry @poems-of-madness

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Damn you

I never thought I’d pray for memory loss

But I don’t give a damn about the cost

I can’t quit thinking about you

It’s so pathetic I regret ever

Opening up my mouth and confessing

I had a crush on you

Everything was going great until

I started fooling with this drug called love

Now look at me heartbroken and strung out

Looking for a way out

Because I’m tired of being stuck

Damn you

@buttonpoetry

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THERE LIES MAGIC IN THE FIRST LINES

THE FIRST LINES YOU SPEAK IN FRONT OF AN AUDIENCE

THE FIRST LINES YOU SPOT IN THE CORNERS OF YOUR EYES ONE MORNING OFF GUARD

THE FIRST LINES OF A SONG YOU IMMEDIATELY KNOW WILL BREAK YOUR HEART.

THE FIRST LINES IN A NEW NOTEBOOK.

THE FIRST LINES YOU DRAW UPON SOMEONE ELSE’S EXPOSED CHEST.

I DON’T KNOW YOU WELL ENOUGH YET

TO KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT YOU

BUT I KNOW THAT

YOU’RE GONNA MAKE IT EASY.

AND THOSE ARE THE FIRST LINES YOU INSPIRED.

Your First Lines | My Thoughts in a Teacup

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Вот и Август послушно упал на ладони,

Снова стали задумчиво-долгими ночи,

Шепчет мудрая девочка в лунной короне:

Чем длинней ожиданье, тем лето короче…

Я губами ловлю её лёгкие пальцы,

На их кончиках звёзды теплей и дороже…

…"мы с тобой две разлуки… два вечных скитальца…

И чем кончится это, ведь, ты знаешь тоже"

Её волосы мягко ложатся на шею,

Ничего не отдать — ни касанья, ни вздоха,

Я молчу, потому что ни слову не верю…

Потому что права, и всё кончится плохо.

Но пока мы вдвоём, осень ближе не станет,

И не сдвинется Август на краешек лета,

Здесь никто никого никогда не обманет,

Даже если оставит вопрос без ответа.

Просто мы в каждой жизни начнём всё сначала —

Наших встреч на одну больше, чем расставаний…

… — а ведь я до тебя никого не прощала…

… — а ведь я до тебя не держал обещаний…

Как бы нам научиться, хоть раз, не бояться,

Что ушедшее лето потом не вернётся…

Сумасшедшим нельзя навсегда расставаться,

Ведь любовь не отпустит, уж если найдётся.

© Сказоч-Ник

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she ain’t no lover,

she ain’t no fighter,

she ain’t got nothing

but cold hard desire


and she ain’t gon’ rest

till she’s the best

like a Girl Scout bitch

puttin’ patches on her vest


she’s got a daddy that’s mean

an ol’ fightin’ machine

no, she ain’t gotta worry

when she’s walkin’ the streets


and she got no heart

yeah, she lost that part

says she never did care,

says she ain’t gon’ start.


Writers Block Prevention Society

poem by @magdaaalene

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I’m in a state of drunkenness again,

I wish that those dead flowers

Would rise from their graves,

And join me for a glass of poison.

If only for tonight.

    You know I tried to sift out the murk,

And tried to capture a scent of old love,

Anything to escape this lonely prison;

Man-made, like everything else.

But youth never cared for excuses!

    I tilt my glass and drink, toasting to the ashes

Of a magnificent Queen and her Drunken king.

Full moon lurking in the night,

With no tomorrow in sight,

    I sit in this tunnel vision dream,

And admire.

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