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RL Glassman Oct 2018
Ever I have longed to take
your hand upon my palm
for all the nights I've lied awake
regretting what I had not done

in morning's rise I had believed
in cleansing of my thoughts
but removal I had not achieved
and was left with not a loss

now as ever, I long to take
under moments rash or calm
in days asleep or days awake
your hand upon my palm
love poem? how unusual. a lil one that i quite like, not sure why though -- as it is quite simple and quite trite. Oh well. I like what i like.
K Balachandran Sep 2018
Long necks held high,
Ostriches in a huddle;
Far palmyrah palms!
Neeloo Neelpari Sep 2018
Twenty four hours
stretching to a century
Engulfing the four walls
Of the lonely abode
haunting the soul
Of the grief stricken me

An enstranged tear
restless to roll down,
My gloomy, rosy cheek
Steps down from their abode
Leaving behind a trail of
Tell-tale blackest kohl

Memoires of you,
Haunting, transending..
And Oh! this taunting moon
Hiding behind the moving clouds
Peeping out, mocking at
My vunerable, lonely state

Brushing back my wet locks
I softly murmur your name
Against my powerless slender palm
When will you help me out
from this pitiable state
O my Eloquer....!!

© Neeloo 'NeelPari'
Kora Sani Aug 2018
i want
to feel death
hold it in my palm
taste the bitterness
then
let it go
find
what it means
to live
Lyn-Purcell Jul 2018
In harsh nature's palms, she
still had weddings in her
eyes
ally maková Jun 2018
I am a plum—
      io sono la tua prugna
and I fit in your palm,
in its tender arch
      upturned, stately
and I curl in its pits
of lines that quake
with the warmth of my weight.

My flesh grazed by your teeth,
      a hymn that carries
across the gleaming sea
and intertwines with the tempest
that soaked your black curls
but not your mouth—
      your mouth dripping
with my plum juice.
Gabe Ouellette Mar 2018
All Thanks!
To those near and to those far,
from the great waves with crests akin to that of a mare,
and the beaches who accept these wild forces,
with open arms of sand and debris of stories untold in unknown waters.
And as these sands of time foster hardy grasses,
These grasses shelter the seeds of tall palms,
Palms foretold to watch over the hermits in their caves,
and to guard young starlings,
whose wings float high above all.
?
Bo Burnham Feb 2018
On a Wednesday morning, clear and calm,
                     I went to Astor Place
and had a gypsy read my palm
                     or maybe just my face.

She said my heart was heavy
                     and my head was stuffed with lies.
But things like that weren't on my hand,
                     they hid behind my eyes.

The room is dull and dank and cold but at
least I have a hand to hold.
Jamie Henderson Nov 2017
"And on that day,
I had to walk away without looking back,
And my heart, with an ache that haunts me to this day,
Stayed in the palm of your hand,
Used as a reminder.

And you told me I was always welcome to come back to you.
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