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 Apr 14
Aimée
They looked at me & saw too little,
Because I spoke with silence, not with sound,
They thought me weak, a quiet riddle,
But never saw the strength I'd found.
They whispered why I walked the room,
Gave sideways glances, crooked grins,
As if their noise could drown my bloom,
As if their pride erased my wins.
They called me less & laughed with ease,
Because I didn't fit their mold,
But I'm the calm within the breeze,
The ember that survives the cold.
I don't wear masks, don't chase their race,
I move with care, not false delight,
They mock the softness on my face,
But I was never made to fight
The way they do with egos blade,
I fight with truth, with heart, with grace.
I've been the scapegoat, overlooked
The girl they tried to twist & bend,
But every bruise they ever cooked,
Just made me truer in the end.
So let them talk & roll their eyes,
Let them brag and laugh and glare,
I'll stand beneath the judgement skies,
Still me, still rising, still rare.
 Apr 13
Joss Lennox
Balance & harmony dance side by side, under the blushing pink moon tonight.
Across the cosmic divide, petals falling, eyes glancing, as they're gracefully gliding around the illuminated divine.
A love written in scales & stars, floating under opal, moonlit skies.
We'll meet the veil in silken waves during the pink moon's rise.  
Venus whispers sweet truths, from eyes in shades of greens & blues.
Within a galaxy of ethereal embrace, where flowers of blushing rose awaken in full bloom.
💕🌕
a romantic poem about my love (my husband) and April's pink moon in Libra
 Apr 13
Nishu Mathur
Every time I’m happy, for reasons I don’t know,
Lights flash in my heart and it kind of . . . . discos.

Why not a waltz, polka, salsa, jive, tango or calypso?
Of all dances, I am not sure why it chooses to disco.

Perhaps, it’s a dance that it can dance on it’s own,
A dance in merry solitude when I might be alone.

Maybe, I grew up in the time when Saturday Night Fever was in tow,
When pop charts went tizzy with songs that’d make the world boom-boom go.

Maybe, my heart beats to the rhythm of life, at times funky, at times slow,
Maybe, it’s in tune with electronic sounds around me — that in a humdrum, flow.

The top left chamber of my heart, leaps, jumps and thumps so,
The bottom right chamber shakes a leg to a psychedelic-lights-show.
My arteries and ventricles throb and pulsate oh . . . OH!
Pumping blood in a sudden rush all the way to my toes.

And like the ever-glittering disco ball, I spin, shine and glow,
Every time I’m happy, my heart jumps . . . And a-dancing it goes
Written by a very young at heart me
 Apr 7
Shambhavi
I asked God,
What happened to this world...?

Chirping birds became noisy horns,
Majestic trees replaced by haunted thorns.
Dense forests turned to toxic crowds,
Now heaven is hidden in denser clouds.

Humans became demons in daylight,
Every festival now ends in fight.
AI paints beautiful trees,
But a painting can't make us breathe free.

All relations turned into jokes,
Children leave their parents chasing hopes.
Even animals sacrifice for their children lives,
But here a mother killed her own child.

I again asked God, weeping in my silent tears,
God replied me,
Don't worry my dear,
THE END IS NEAR!!
Every religioius textbooks have warned us about the ending of the world because of humans desires but no one cares and soon we will see the circumstances.
 Mar 31
Nishu Mathur
Somewhere between words and a phrase
And images that waltz on a page
Naked or masked, with a ** and a hum
Read me in the lines of a poem.

Curled up with flair in cursive ink
Or in italics that make one think  
In bold scribble of soulful blues
Meet me in a syllable of haiku.

In sounds and rhyme, in free flowing feet
In rolled up, crumpled paper sheets
On kissed ends or in couplets terse -
Trace me in a little verse.

Midst damp and broken metaphors
In sentences loud or hushed whispers
Hidden behind some quaint smilie
Find me in poetry.

Poesy — a world large enough to hold
Sordid moments in its fold
Sweetness of life and broken hearts
Harsh reality and runaway art.
Lately I've been feeling
Disconnected from the world
It seems such a dreadful place
It feels far away from home

So I come to my safe haven
Read and write for hours
Write and read some more
And I know I'm not alone

For I get to see each of you
The outcasts, the weirdos
The misfits, the poets...
But above all, the kind

My little beacons of hope...
My people
I love Hepo and I've met the most incredible people around here... but I'm not sure it's such a safe space anymore.
REPOST: written in Jan/25.
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