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#poems
metamorphesque · 2 days
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"Sister, it might be...", Eghishe Charenc (translated by metamorphesque)
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remember-really · 2 days
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threewordusername · 2 days
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words unspoken marinate,
potent spells of
uncertainty and possibility.
life passes by,
while those unknowing
have missed the opportunity
to hear your true thoughts.
please, expel the
words which brew
in the confines of
your heart.
tell someone you love them.
"say what's on your mind, right now."
d.b.a
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my-lost-love · 1 day
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I dream of being loved. I dream of love that big that even my heart can't handle it, But Im worried. Im worried that this feeling isn't meant for me. My heart is always open for everybody, Like an ugly, scary shop open 24/7. I will always show love to everyone, Even to random people I met on the street. My destiny is to be a lover, not a loved one. It will be easier for me, If I come to terms with the fact I will walk through life alone. Not everyone deserves to be loved and maybe, Im one of this people. ~ER.
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I don't cave in but there's avalanches of skull dust in the mountainous corners of the spider's favorite library
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under-the-moons · 2 days
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planting gardens in graves volume 1
by r.h. sin
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arseholism · 1 day
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Oh love, you have forsaken me..
Brought me down onto my knees..
Brought tears into my once happy eyes..
Ridiculed my every wish and every dream..
Oh love, you have forsaken me..
For now, I am just an empty soul..
With nothing to live for.. to die for..
Just existing.. somewhere in between.
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pen-pain-poetry · 3 days
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words i couldn't speak
some one asked me recently why I write poetry, what is the reason behind this re-arranging of dictionary, I do not know, I said, they just call my soul, and i write, tons of old writhed emotions sometimes creeps up, and I can't help but let them out, through ink and paper, so let them out with ink, on paper, weird, they replied, somehow they always felt personal, like you were writing for special someone.
was i writing to special someone, was i really though? a simple question echoed in the back of my mind, i quickly looked at my poems, and tried to look for my muses, or events that inspired me to write, and- (then i suddenly realized),
oh, oh no, you were always in either of them, present somehow somewhere, my heart skipped a beat, my body felt cold, realization dawned upon me with no mercy heavens above, oh god, years of suppressed feelings poured on to me in one second, like dam of water breaking and flowing with no pressure, you know, what they say, the more you press the spring the higher it is gonna jump, i think i was going through the exact same thing, the feeling were flooding through my brains too quickly for me to handle at once, i was breathless, brainless, and i couldn't think straight, oh god is this how intense love is? and i was only on first stage, everything was happening too quickly for me to notice, but some how that was the only piece missing on my puzzle of life, i realized as everything clicked, that my poem were the words i couldn't speak. (to you.)
©Pen_Pain_Poetry
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metamorphesque · 7 hours
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"The Dance", Siamanto (translated by Peter Balakian)
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soulmaking · 1 day
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William Wordsworth, from "The Waterfall and the Eglantine"
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finleyscanlan · 2 days
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In Yourself
Love is the endless call That burrows as the rabbit, Or soars as the sparrow hawk; Do either know what They're searching for? Are they happy? I have a name, and a Body, and a purpose, I've Been told, one day I'll return And in that time, I must've gone and been Something great. My hands are filthy From tending my garden, And the weeds only return.. Why do I bother? Well, To feel the pleasures Of earth beneath my hands. To witness the snails Cosy amongst the bluebells, The worm poke out His curious head And bury himself Back beneath the soils. What about the moth That died before he flew; The woman without child, it's Such a shame, we say, The purpose of life Is to create more. Pay no mind, we say, To the cold hands that each Winter barely feed, Or the ecstatic joy Of the dog free in the grass, The pleasures of his wild body. I say give much attention To the desires of your body, The sacred one, And to your inspiration, Maybe your guilt, The gentle voice of intuition. You can't deny the point of life. The one life only you Can control, your own, Mustn't fall through your grasp; Hold it dearly— Trust in yourself.
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urdesigirl · 2 days
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laal ishq 🌷🪔✨️
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threewordusername · 3 days
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for now, leave the past behind.
six-word poem.
d.b.a
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