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Michael Lord Sep 19
I mourn
The mornings gone,
Waking to the cold,
Bare feet on hardwood,
Firing the furnace,
The smell of strong coffee,
Two cups placed,
Climbing back into warmth
Beneath the Pendletons.

I mourn
The mornings gone,
Lazy hours abed
For a family of four,
In winter coats
Jake, Shady
Upon our lap and leg.

I mourn
The mornings gone.
I would read her
Fascinating finds in
Scientific American,
Smithsonian.
She would pretend
To listen.
In return I would
Refill her cup.

I mourn
The mornings gone.
Is not love
Two cats, a man
A woman,
Content together as
One,
Content to hold
The day at bay,
Content to just be.
I really miss my old life.
jon Sep 17
sometimes i don’t know if i’m the whole problem, or just half the problem

if i play a role, or if there is something i’m missing

i miss you, and i feel like i’ve fallen off whatever pedestal you had me on

it’s like when they say “you’ll let yourself down every time when you expect yourself out of someone else,”

it seems as if that is where we are meeting each other where we’re both currently at

it’s not somewhere in the middle, it’s not few and far between

it’s withdrawn and distant, it’s push and pull, and it’s hot and cold

it’s emotional whiplash, freeze and fawn

i have no idea what the **** we’re even doing anymore

because i find myself not even wanting to or caring to respond at all

emotionally exhausted
but still at your beck and call.
i love you but i feel stuck
Nat Lipstadt Sep 15
a birthday poem for S.

perhaps, this is the responsibility, the purposeful gentility,
that poetry engenders, that thwarts the impulse to anger,
guiding away, finding a way, to temper the temper, to out
and joust away our basest, our first, but never our foremost
nor finest, succinct instinct, yet terrible human nonetheless...

perhaps, this is where we hide, neath our carnival masque,
our-would-be better selves, and struggle in this, this intensity intentional,

the season's change is subtly blatant, not obvious 'cept to those
who have a front seat, a well worn Adirondack chair in the nook
where the airy breeze offers fruits of words so easy, pluck words
as easy as breathing, and the slight gradation change, in the light and
temperature, and yet, the suns cares not, for it still warms my body,
though lower and slower, nonetheless, when the heat invades my soul, confirming my, our, existence,

burning off the fog of our contradictory confusions,
and eliciting an unsolicited
"thank you god"
for my, our personal miracle of re~birthing
and better comprehending,
that other
miracle we can embrace
never enough

loving kindness

sun~mon
sep 14~15
twenty twenty five
The phrase "to tame the savageness of man" is part of a larger quote, often attributed to the ancient Greek playwright Aeschylus, which reads, "Tame the savageness of man and make gentle the life of this world". This powerful sentiment was also famously quoted by Robert F. Kennedy, who attributed his translation to Edith Hamilton, and it calls for humanity to overcome its darker impulses for the sake of a more compassionate and peaceful existence
warm sun sweet liquid
dark moist hole bristles soft sand
wonder exquisite
                            
                         *      

                                  *
                    
    SUN    
                             \/
                          sweet
                             ||
                       D  ARK        Q  QQ ||| b r i St  Les                      
                    s
                           o
                                f
                                    t
                                         sand ::::::sandcastles:::::::::holes OOO:::birth
                                                                 ing
ALICE

She basked in warm mid-morning sun drinking rooibos tea with almond biscuits. Her dollies speaking dolly lingo to marching ants. An indigo beam of sunlight rayed into her forehead, delivering jolts to her ladybird reverie.

Instantly Alice saw it. A tiny dark gasping hole in the flaking courtyard wall through which a caterpillar was  c r a w l i n g, beckoning her to
f o l l o w.
“Come,” he said, “with me, through MY intricate hole. I want to show YOU wonders beyond wOnders.”
eyes to eyes magnetised
a curious movement                             SSSSSSS
body lost legs, arms, neck                       SSSSS
brain smoking shrinking                              SSS
ears disappearing                                          S                
ribs increasing                                              

                      she felt an ***** growing
                      on the roof of her mouth
                      transmutation into worm or
                      serpent
                      how was she to know ?
        
                                                          
Her dollies started whimpering, ants stopped in their tracks, wall flaked some more
shedding skin
ALICE with two silky plaits, red ribboned tied
GONE to the
                     BE
                          YOND •••>>>  where no pond rip
                                                                       pled

black moist silently inward
sumptuous costume velvet
lime glitter embellished
crawling  s l o w l y, sleekly
spine tingling steel pins
rapidly acquiring density
            s e r p en t i n e  sword
            struck swiftly
            penetratingly  

Alice feared losing her
squirm worm
already her mind was
  L
           O
                S
                    T    

w i t h o u t  thistle  f i e l d s
or jellybeans or colour-in books
lego nowhere = ego shat
                                         te red

“Feel,” he said. “You can’t talk here, only feel.” She felt liquid through her veins, diluted warm honey, sensing bronzed bristles along the wormhole wall. Justice or Judgement eyes watched intently, though nobody touched.

             Her forked tongue grew longer
                  licked sides of damp musky hole
                      elongated, she was whole  

dead     alive     SAFE  opened  merging
slithering deep into belly of volcanic Earth
                  YET….slashed  slimy
s a i l i n g  sand  muddy   SACRED
worms and serpents crawling beside
behind, ahead ~
all heading in  O N E
direction________where to ?

“This is a pilgrimage,” her new friend remarked.  
Where     t   o   x2x2 ?
thoughts quietly rattled wormy counterpart  ~
“To Lord of Light, awaiting in a leather armchair.”
What must I do there, her thoughts slid along.
“Nothing.”
Then why are you taking me there ?
“To see what NO THING  is.”
How can I see nothing ?     DNA    j     m
                                                          U
                                                                p s
recalibration of
strings and strands ...
                            “Because  NO  T H   IN G  O
      D            is           Everything...”

They slid  a l o n g  > > ~ ~
slightly more haste
pace becoming faster
warm breezes flushed her
trunk. Her intestines becoming
                       an
          
               ~~ !!\\/\/\/\/!!! ~~~!!

EXPLOSIve  ORANGE RIVER
GOLD dust tinged ~   flame-purified
                                   no pebbles no grit no grime

“Feel,” her friend whispered, “we are nearing His g  RAY  sheepskin slippers sprouting WHITE lotuses. He is Nothingness, so don’t be afraid.”
                tingling sensations swept
                   upwards
                       from tail end through heart
                           to centre of her new skull.
Alice panted hot ice
I want to cry, but have no tears, she thought.
“HUSH hush hush ….don’t be afraid.”
Her body stiffened
neck area arched
scales curled   f  a  l  l
                                          i
                                             n
                                                   g            

webby rose petals faded
through floorless floor

NOTHINGNESS  and  EVERYTHING
flashed   L U M I N O S I T Y   n  a  k  e  d

A   Li  ce     died   *
¥ ¥¥**  an   e c s t a t i c
                                     D
                                          E
                                             A
                                                 T
                                                    H _


Alice Wanda Adam  ~  1.1.202O  — 1.8.2025


@never.never.land
                  she frolicked with
                  Rip van Winkle
                     who fed her TIME and leechies
                        skipped alongside Goldilocks
who offered hot cinnamon porridge and
a silver spoon engraved ~ AWA ~


What is her name ? asked the midwife
                       “A  L  I  C  E”   replied her Mom              
“Oooo, Sweets, she’s a  WONDERLAND ” a baritone voice chimed, stroking vernix ears.

mohair crochet bootied
Alice ****** HOT
mother’s milk
                       d
                          r
                            i
                              p
                                p
                                   i
                                      n
                                          g



©GhairoDanielsPoetry&Song2025
This Poem was placed 5th in an International Poetry Contest sponsored by Tom Woody, American Poet : subject : Alice in Wonderland July 2025
mumu Sep 3
Sometimes, when night is quite; air was cold
   I lay in my bed, lonely st in my head
Thinking things I can't comprehend
  Anxiety, Scars, is it Insomia?
Remembering that line, echoing
  "It's gonna be okay, I'm right here"
Am I really gonna be okay? I doubt
  But I believe to th Voices, no question
"YOU CAN STAY", that's what you'll say
   As as long as you want, even when you
   Grow Up
Keeping me warm with the big hugs
  Cover me, especially in my Silent Cry
In the end I know I will be okay
  with The View you showed me the first time
   we met
Dainty feelings start to grow, I know it's an assurance
  That in my Broken Compass, there is a You
   to bring me on track
"Stay" we always say
  With your outmost care, you really make me stay
Hello! Just want to write my appreciation to Stray Kids! I'm a Stay since 2022, year when I was diagnosed with CKD. It was Stray Kids' music who really help me a lot especially during treatment when everything ache so bad and when at night I am so anxious, their music save me, for real.

Bang chan, thank you for finding stays
Lee Know, thank you for always reminding me to eat healthy even if I don't want to
Changbin, thank you for keeping reminding me to take care my body
Hyunjin, thank you for showing how beautiful life is
Felix, thank you for just being a ball of sunshine
Han, thank you for reminding me that you can always go back when you got lost
Seungmin, thank you for always singing your heart out
I.N., thank you for always showing I deserve a love that is not toxic

I know this note is long and cheesy, but I just really love Stray Kids

You really make me stay

**thank you ALLSKZPH for the "ETERNAL STAY" tag :) **
Celene Aug 18
9.
8.7.2025

I see a blissful, visual poetry.
I taste it- feel it on my tongue and slipping down my throat.

In Viscera, and through the pathways of my nerves is an untranslatable language whose own body frustrates me so greatly that I nearly grasp for separation.

It is static;
electric,
and never satisfies itself.

This is dangerous.
It implies my lines of control are blurred.
[Celene, Elphreia. 2025] https://elphreia.wordpress.com/
He lived in a black house.
His eyes the color of a brown sea.
Do not change !
"You are neither here nor there,  
How can you be successful?"—a voice in the air.  
It muttered once, but I heard it thrice,  
A haunting echo, not so nice.  

I reflect deep—could this be me?  
Is it instinct or a mind not free?  
Am I imagining things in vain?  
But he is right, and I feel the strain.  

Jack of all trade and master of none,  
But one who masters will inspire someone.  
Too many tasks leave all half done,  
While one at a time brings work well spun.  

All in one is same as nothing,  
But one in one births everything.  
I do not write this to condemn,  
You can succeed with more than ten.  

But purpose and vision must lead the way,  
Without them, you’re a leaf that sways.  
A man without vision is like a trash,  
Waved by the wind in a reckless dash.  

I’m glad I’ve found my voice at last,  
Through Poetry, wisdom shall be cast.
“The Voice That Spoke” is a soul-searching poem by Nigerian poet Osahenoma Favour Moses, born from a moment of internal reckoning. It begins with a haunting voice—an echo of doubt—that challenges the poet’s scattered pursuits across multiple creative paths: acting, preaching, storytelling, and poetry. Through rhythmic reflection and layered wisdom, the poem explores the tension between versatility and focus, urging readers to discover their true calling and nurture it with purpose.

This piece is more than a confession—it’s a call to clarity. It speaks to anyone who feels stretched thin by ambition, reminding them that success is not in doing everything, but in doing something well. With poetic precision, Favour casts light on the importance of vision, identity, and intentional growth.

“The Voice That Spoke” is part of his growing body of work known as Wisdom in Poetry—a genre where truth meets verse, and insight flows through rhythm.
The moon above was not too bright,
But still, it gave the softest light.
The stars were there — a scattered sea,
It felt like they were watching me.

Beside me, you — so still, so near,
The ocean's sound was all I'd hear.
The waves, the breeze, the silent air...
And knowing somehow you were there.

We walked along the shoreline slow,
Our footprints fading as we go.
No words were said, yet I could feel
A quiet love, so calm, so real.

I didn't need to speak tonight,
My heart was loud beneath the light.
You looked at me — I looked at you,
And all I hoped felt somehow true.

Then came the kiss — so soft, so shy,
Beneath the stars and velvet sky.
And when we paused, I saw you smile,
It made the whole world stop awhile.

I couldn’t name just what I felt,
But something warm inside me dwelt.
A secret feeling, deep and wide,
That bloomed like waves and touched the tide.

And when the moon gave way to sun,
We sat and watched the day begun.
The morning light began to rise,
But I was staring at your eyes.

Your brown eyes caught the golden hue,
And looked like something pure and true.
I smiled and wrote this later on,
To keep the night that came and gone.
Where our soul collides together under the moonlight watching the sky with no voice in our mind,I met you in the dark and thought your just a guy but I didnt thought that you would be mine..(relationship I want in the future where it feels like I'm in a  movie,the passionate kiss I saw on tv,wish that It could be it)
Ciara Jul 15
You taste like a dream
How I wish to never wake again
You stitched my heart at the seams
With love stronger than a friend
My heart is yours forever more
Over your entire being
Love I will pour
Thank you for being my muse
My everlasting love
I'll love you win or lose
Until we go to heaven above



-Ciara Faith Ann
To
Jeremy Anderson Turner
"My hearts desire"
Love poem
July 9, 2025 🫂
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