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  • db-cooper shared a letter in the Group logo of PoetryPoetry group 2 days, 12 hours ago

    Tongue twister

    My screen is a scene of something obscene
    It’s so serene I hear Myself scream I deemed it extreme
    Im not to keen to dream it seems, I mean…..

    DB cooper

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  • Joshua (roses) shared a letter in the Group logo of Mental HealthMental Health group 2 days, 15 hours ago

    Shadows in the Mirror

    Have I really been working on myself or did I just change from my work clothes to something more comfortable
    Is this depression or is it just the pigment of my skin
    Can I defeat you, detach from you or are you so fingerprinted to my thoughts that I’m simply running away from me
    Sometimes I wish I could just escape me, myself wears a mask, and I am tired of getting dressed up just to still feel down
    I’m black said my mind, I live in the shadows of sadness watching the sunlight from a distance
    If only the heat from the suns smile would kiss me, maybe it would melt away my sadness
    I’m black said my words, followed by you’re different, they won’t accept you, you don’t fit in
    I’m black says the mirror looking at a reflection of depression
    I get so lost in my waning emotions my waxing moon can barely breathe
    It’s so cold that even the rays of light feel sad
    I’m black, I’m depressed, I’m black, I’m oppressed, I’m black I’m obsessed with the idea of my feelings living on equal ground
    I’m black, I’m depressed the two interchange while beginning to sound the same so much so I took depressions last name
    When I look at me I see one broken piece
    I can’t find the rest of the lyrics to my song, maybe it’s because the writer will never finish it
    Maybe it’s because I didn’t cry enough to water my heart
    I’m black, I’m dirt, but my soil is killing the last remaining rose
    I am a rose with bloody red regrets for petals, I put my failures on a pedestal
    So, every time I tried to look up it got me nowhere
    I’m lost and I keep letting the grey line give me directions, because there’s a thin line between joy and happiness, and in the middle is pity where you can find me
    I’m black so they think I stole these 5 minutes of happiness, and so what if I did everyone deserves 15 minutes of fame and mine is coming soon
    But right now, I just want to smile and actually feel the laughter hold me instead of the facade that hugs me like a long embrace
    This morning I stopped running and looked depression in the face
    My mind is not yours it is the Lord’s
    p.s. let the battle begin

    Roses

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  • Joshua (roses) shared a letter in the Group logo of PoetryPoetry group 2 days, 15 hours ago

    Dancing Under the Lights of the Waterfall

    Step side to side
    Sway to our song
    Your heart is the lyrics
    My soul the instrumental
    Hold my hand the way Jesus held the nails
    Step side to side
    Nerves waltz to love
    No music is needed
    When sacrifice becomes a verb
    Watching movies with the sound off
    I’ll hold you like the space between us is trying to escape
    Crowded ball room that only sees us two
    Empty minds have the fullest hearts
    And the cup of my rhythmic soul runneth over
    p.s. don’t forget to kiss me under the waterfall chandeliers…

    Roses

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  • SUN-SETTLE

    Sunset comes in muted hues

    Orange fire and baby blues

    Seaside skies, so vast in views

    Birds pass lovers, two by twos

    The day erased to bygone news

    Sunlight fades to starry muse

    Gentle flames from bonfires fuse

    Bring restful bliss from daytime’s ruse

    From sunrise lies to nighttime truths

    Our life resets when dawn renews

    Ricardo Albertorio

    Voting is open!

    Voting ends April 7, 2024 12:00am

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  • Perfect sway

    It’s a perfect day, let’s go slay.
    Waking up feels great, my body’s not in pain. My brain no longer insane, I’m tame.
    I put my doc’s on and stroll out the door on this beautiful 80 degree day.
    My gosh the beauty I see before me,
    neighbors smiling and I am stylin’
    Jeeps workin’ just fine wow that just blew my mind
    I feel like I’m in a Muppet movie surrounded by singing
    And dancing I feel fantastic not a bit sarcastic
    nope…. no work today! Just me, myself, and I

    Danielle Bettro

    Voting is open!

    Voting ends April 7, 2024 12:00am

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  • Imperfectly Perfect

    We chase the dream of a perfect day,
    But imperfections won’t go away.
    In this world of chaos, we stumble and sway,
    Yet beauty hides in the mess we create.

    Laughter echoes, but tears fall too,
    In every hello, there is a goodbye too.
    The sun shines bright, but my shadows loom,
    In every moment, a story’s hidden gloom.

    We quest for control, but life’s untamed,
    Unpredictable twists and turns we can’t reclaim.
    Yet in the midst of turmoil, we find our strength,
    A resilience that guides us through life’s length.

    So let’s embrace the journey, with all its flaws,
    And find the beauty in the imperfect laws.
    For life’s not about seeking perfection’s gleam,
    But dancing with the mess, and making it our theme.

    In the uncontrolled moments, we find our voice,
    A unique melody that echoes our own voice.
    The same melody that makes us make a choice.
    Let’s cherish the imperfections, the quirks and the flaws,
    For they shape our story, and make our life pause.

    Rebecca Engle

    Voting is open!

    Voting ends April 7, 2024 12:00am

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  • Rebecca Engle shared a letter in the Group logo of ParentingParenting group 1 week, 3 days ago

    Distant

    I am not a parent but I want to be one day today that ability to birth my own changed

    In the quiet of the night, within my soul
    I felt like a shattered bottle, burdened by misfortune
    now fragmented on the ground
    With dreams of motherhood pushed aside.

    Tumors, occupants of my body
    Whispering fear like a consuming fire.
    My body, a battleground, weary,
    Carrying the weight of lost dreams.

    No gentle movements within my womb to experience
    No little hands clasping mine to seal the bond.
    The path to motherhood, radiant and clear
    Now hidden from view.

    Amidst this brokenness a flicker of light shines through
    For not everything is lost despite appearances.
    Though my physical form is fractured my spirit endures,
    In the rubble resilience sustains.

    I am more than the sum of my pieces
    More than the emptiness in my heart.
    In shards of glass reflections of a beginning emerge
    Finding strength, in being reborn.

    For family transcends blood; it is forged through connection
    Love can be found in forms.
    Though the route may have altered the journey continues
    I will navigate through fields adorned with clover.

    So I’ll gather all my fragments, one, by one,
    Beneath the nurturing rays of the healing sun.
    Even though I may never possess everything on my own
    I’ll construct a life where love is eternally sown.

    Within each shattered piece there lies a captivating tale to share
    Of resilience, hope and how I stumbled into despair.
    Yet I emerged more with a courages flame
    Navigating lifes intricate labyrinth without any shame.

    I am not merely a discarded shattered bottle left aside
    Instead I’m a warrior with a stride.
    In this journey, through lifes trials and tribulations
    I find solace knowing that strength is born from foundations.

    Rebecca Engle

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  • FLOWER ME

    I have roses on my tongue

    Velvet kisses, words with thorns

    I have magnolias in my eyes

    Silver petals that mesmerize

    Orange blossoms on my chest

    Cover my heart with their zest

    I have orchids for my navel

    Like a sprite from woodland fable

    Through my waist and far below

    Hidden garden with its glow

    My body, vase of stems and leaves

    Ivy wrapped around my knees

    Small bouquet of scent and wonder

    Arranged for all to gaze and ponder

    Tend my garden, see me grow

    Water daily, love will flow

    Then pick my flowers with delight

    For they’ll come back throughout the night

    Ricardo Albertorio

    Voting starts April 16, 2024 12:00am

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  • roses submitted a contest entry to Group logo of Why do you love yourself?Why do you love yourself? 2 weeks ago

    Tulips Remind Me to Smile

    I’m lonely because my reflection has no one to hold
    The outline of my ghost seen from air that is cold
    The vacancy used to be home to love so bold
    My reflection used to smile the same way the sun made nature happiness unfold

    But it’s become a mirror of the Jamaican blue waters searching for something tangible in frustration
    Anger has become a raging river of pillowcase tears spilling over the edge of my mind in desperation
    It feels like fire burning my frozen fingertips to ash when my cloudy eyes began to leak precipitation
    I hugged the numbness where my speech completes puzzle, and her fingerprinted lips became my long-forgotten embrace of sensation

    Feelings have been evicted, because complacency in place of self-growth was more stylish
    My living quarters are filled with the residue of erased poetry regrets because love is too expensive to furnish
    I can’t afford to keep falling on this psychological couch only to flood my frustrations and not move forward and allow my purpose to be banished
    Moving sucks, the packing of emotions and unpacking a reality that shares tents of bluish

    So, instead I’ll just jump so I won’t have to ever slip again
    Love doesn’t exist, I said as I got dressed in my final outfit of sin
    I went out to eat for the last supper, fin
    Then drove to the bridge to take a dive to the end

    I jumped and felt the winds of fear flush reality back to my consciousness
    The waves of laughter mist a reminder that life isn’t that bad when our voice says ha ha
    The breeze of memories gives me a taste of moments I kept locked away for safe keeping
    Forgetting where I put the key, like the lost famous recipe

    Depression opens my eyes and I see the weight it bears but when I zoom out, I see my hand pressing down on my shadow causing the darkness to surround me
    I’m falling and I can see the bottom increasing
    The last memory I allow myself to have is: when I bought flowers for myself

    Because the colors help me see the sunshine from the shade or moon from the dark
    The curves remind me of the smile I still own
    Lest I continue to lease short term happiness for joy
    Every time I fall, I witness the natural healing of the body
    Loneliness is walking on eggshells by your heels
    But forgive yourself and the solitude of peace begins to blanket you and I again feel
    I bought flowers to say I love you
    And for that last second, I breathe into death and say life isn’t that bad
    Concrete darkness crashes into dreams
    And my eye lashes rise their rays as I awake to a new day
    Cold panic sweats greet me but remember I can just wipe it away
    I go to the restroom, brush my teeth, and recite my daily affirmations because today is not yesterday
    I love me and add extra icing for the pieces I feel don’t belong
    My heart still beats so I sing my song at the top of my lungs, like I’m in the car by myself
    Some petals have wilted but a new season welcomes the future bloom
    I love me and that’s enough no matter what anyone else thinks
    I love me because God loves me
    p.s. I had to jump to fall in love with myself…

    Roses

    Voting starts April 16, 2024 12:00am

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  • Rebecca Engle shared a letter in the Group logo of Mental HealthMental Health group 3 weeks ago

    Do they color?

    In the realm of whispers, where simple truths twist and turn
    Resides the tale of crayons, damaged and yearned.
    “They still bring color ” they say, with a glance
    Those who have tried know its a flawed dance.

    For crayons though vibrant and bold
    Struggle, in hands that fail to hold.
    The canvas awaits, vast and forgiving
    Fragmented pieces make coloring less than living.

    Coloring, not painting; the distinction is clear
    One wields crayons while the other brushes near.
    Yet the challenge endures with these parts
    Smooth strokes of joy elude us like lost arts.

    Lines appear jagged and hesitant, on our quest
    With each tiny fragment causing hues to fade best.
    The persists “They still bring color indeed ”
    Oh how we long for crayons to succeed.

    For isn’t true bliss found in slow glides?
    In crayons that smoothly coincide?
    Yet from brokenness we learn resilience imbued
    Colors emerge despite abuse endured.Well you know when it comes to coloring with crayons it’s not as easy, as using the ones. It’s like a story of never giving up and facing our fears. Actually it could even be seen as a metaphor for more than just coloring.

    In both life and coloring those who are broken may still manage to leave their impactful marks.. Lets not pretend that it’s just as simple or fair for everyone. We all have our own challenges and obstacles to overcome, both in our lives and, in our endeavors.

    Rebecca Engle

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  • Love with pain

    Why should I love myself? Let’s dive in with fun,
    For I am unique, a rare edition, second to none.
    Graduated with honors, a brain quite something,
    But still manage to trip over my own two feet.

    From University halls to the classrooms I’ve led,
    I’ve learned quite a lot, not just what books have said.
    Special Ed to core subjects, I’ve taught with flair,
    Even when my lesson plans fly above me and my students through the air.

    In arguments, I’m a star, my emotions are tight,
    Yet, I can’t seem to win when my jeans feel too tight.
    Sensory panic the autistic embrace.
    My dedication’s fierce, in every task I immerse,
    But ask me to cook, and you might need a nurse.

    A mentor, a tutor, a friend indeed,
    With a heart so vast, I am a rare breed.
    I’ve campaigned, I’ve coordinated, even made the Dean’s list,
    And yet, finding my keys remains a mythical mist.

    I laugh at my errors and embrace each mistake,
    For each one’s a lesson, another step I must take.
    In life’s moving theatre, I play many roles,
    From educator to activist, I’ve scored a ton of goals.

    Why love myself? For every stumble and stride,
    For the courage to be me, without having to hide.
    For my passion, my laughter, the joy I bring,
    In this symphony of life, I’m truly the queen.

    So here’s to self-love, in all its glory,
    For I am the author of a powerful story.
    A tale of struggle, of growth, of fun,
    Yes, loving myself is job in itself
    As I am a pain in the ass to even myself.

    Rebecca Engle

    Voting starts April 16, 2024 12:00am

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  • gorilladna shared a letter in the Group logo of PoetryPoetry group 3 weeks, 1 day ago

    HEART versus MIND

    My heart says to love you

    My mind says to leave you behind

    My heart says you need me

    My mind says I’m being too kind

    My heart says forgive you

    My mind says it’s for the last time

    My heart says I’ll miss you

    My mind says stop being so blind

    My heart says that you’ll change

    My mind says it’s just too late

    My heart says there’s hope still

    My mind says you’ve sealed your own fate

    My heart says it’s broken

    My mind says to cry and move on

    My heart says it’s ready

    My mind says the heart’s never wrong

    Ricardo Albertorio

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    • Ricardo, I love this and the back-and-forth between the mind and the heart I think is something we’ve all felt at some point. That tug-of-war can drive a person crazy. I know it has for me. I love this piece. I am going to include it in our newsletter today, so please keep an eye out for it! <3 Lauren

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      • Awww! Thank you, Lauren. Yes, we’ve all experienced this “tug ‘o war” internally. Sometimes the mind wins, sometimes the heart wins. Thank you for including it in the newsletter.

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      • <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

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    • Hi! I really love the theme of contrasting the knowledge in your mind with the desires of your heart. It’s fun to see creative takes on age old adeges. Your last line really made me feel something; I felt that in my heart 🙂

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      • Thank you so much, Saga. It makes me happy to hear you enjoyed my poem. If one has to win over the other, I prefer it to be the heart 🙂

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  • ddes submitted a contest entry to Group logo of Why do you love yourself?Why do you love yourself? 3 weeks, 2 days ago

    A Thousand Iterations

    I am 29 years 6 months and 22 days old.
    Yet despite my youth and what I can only hope to be the late morning of my lifetime – I have been a thousand different people.
    And certainly, not all of them have been easy to love.
    Or really even tolerate.

    There is me as an innocent child collecting crabs on the shore.
    Then a pre-teen, taking the wheel of my Father’s car on the way home from school because he was too intoxicated to safely drive. Sitting on his chest in protest waiting for my Mom to get home from work after he told me in the most loving tone that he was about to commit suicide in our basement because life hurt too much.

    Going to Weight Watchers before I got my period, because my body was already wrong.
    Going to fat camp, but feeling devastated when I realized fat camp didn’t fix my body.
    There is me standing in front of the mirror naked staring at my stretch marks and budding breasts and hating everything I saw.

    The adolescent whose Father died on a cold winter day.
    A day I refused to hug him when asked, out of anger and teen angst.
    There is also the version of me that grew to carry that choice with me as my deepest regret to this day.
    The teen who got more angsty after his passing, angry at the universe, who snuck out and dated men over a decade older than me because surely no boy my age could understand me.

    I think of the determined college student I became. Starry eyed and falling in love. The bride on her bachelorette party who got a little (okay, a lot) too drunk at a winery. The passionate young adult starting her career. The young twenty something helping her bestfriend move. Me who I would consider a good friend and wife.

    Then there is a psychotic version of me, stripping down into a hospital gown for a psych ward stay while male staff sexually harassed me, and a counselor named Heidi taking me to the “sensory room” to calm down.
    Me stuck there for weeks that felt like an eternity as I questioned my reality.
    Me whose trauma filled mind and heart became so engrossed in misery that the goodness previously described seemed to dissipate.
    There is the me that didn’t believe in divorce.
    Me who now does.

    Stealing morphine left over from my family member’s time on hospice to numb myself and play Russian roulette with my life, just to see what would happen and if the lights would turn off.
    Now there is me who is grateful for faulty light switches.

    There is late twenty me who decided to burn the whole house down, metaphorically, to build an entirely new one.
    This version of me is strong, resilient, and liberated.
    Me who decided to travel where I wanted and when I wanted.
    Who fucked a stranger in the ocean and jumped out of an airplane.
    Who fucked another person I had just met and got pregnant by surprise, but fell in love with.

    Next there is me when I took the form of a Mother.
    Watching in awe as my body changed; both in ways I found joyful and in other ways I found (and still do find) hard to accept.
    Me who rocked my newborn to sleep while I tried not to fall asleep myself.
    The version of me who watches Lion King while I watch my now toddler soak in life.
    Me whose heart could explode with love for a little boy I didn’t know I needed.
    This is my favorite iteration of myself thus far.

    The same me sobbed when I thought my Mom had cancer.
    And then when she didn’t – stared at her selfies and glowing effervescent smile in Iceland to see the Northern Lights (because cancer scares light a fire to check some things off of your bucket list).
    The me who still grieves her in advance, because I’m all too familiar with the hole that losing a parent leaves.

    There is current me who is both empowered and still ashamed to detail all of these iterations of “me”.
    I am a living scrapbook.
    Some pages are beautiful, and others are hard to look at.
    It is striking and messy simultaneously.
    When I ponder, “Do I love myself?”, a film plays in my head displaying scenes of the people I have been.
    There have been times I found it impossible to “love” the current version of myself, but as I sit here in this moment – I do.
    Not only that, but I can find love for the past versions of myself now, as well, for her determination to grow.

    Dominique Deslauriers

    Voting starts April 16, 2024 12:00am

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  • I’ll stay just like you ✨

    We weren’t supposed to me meet like this;
    the same soul, just a little later in the trip.
    A reunion, despite the illusion of time,
    trying to make sure I leave you behind.
    To become different versions,
    or stumble on a purpose that shows us what our worth is.
    That’s when we notice how fast the earth spins..
    Time and life aren’t linear,
    we need a different point of view.
    We’ll be genuine and real, empathetic and cool.
    I’ll grow up and stay just like you. ✨

    Short Cort

    Voting starts April 16, 2024 12:00am

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  • Joshua (roses) shared a letter in the Group logo of PoetryPoetry group 3 weeks, 2 days ago

    If Memories Could Talk

    I think I’m in love…
    Introvert at heart I was exhausted but enjoying myself like a good day at the gym
    I had been participating in some verbal jogging when the jargon interrupted the depth of my thoughts
    I wanted to go deeper, but the question brought me back to the surface
    You know, that over used, over played, over copied, get out of jail free question
    So, how did you feel, question mark
    A mental sigh fogs my mind, as I wait for the dust to settle, I try to paint what can’t be replicated in any art
    My response a cliche of my own just to joust back
    In case we’re keeping score
    I’m deadly competitive to a fault, laughing to myself touché
    Oh, my reply, I almost forgot
    The cliche runs from my mouth: the words to describe it are lost but if found it would be something like watching the American Day Dream on the big screen except you’re the main character
    When your mood matches the brightness within the sunrise of your eyes and you’re by no means even a little bit of an early bird
    You hear the sound of vinyl recorded melodies without your headphones on repeat as you brush your teeth
    The dust slowly undresses as I then get dressed
    Looking for the perfect outfit is comparable to searching for these words
    And don’t get me started on shoes
    The right pair will have everyone on there heels and can capture the eyes to the soul
    That day my soul sang solo after the shower rained down cleansing compliments
    Chanting for an encore
    The volume of the claps is turned down
    The dust has finally kissed the ground
    And for the reveal my reflection sees a familiar memory
    As my mouth curves like a rose into a shape it hasn’t felt in awhile
    I’ve been chasing this flowery feeling like the butterfly tasting the flight of bliss
    I grab as fast as I can, gripping the steering wheel headed to the destination
    Shouting I’m never letting go
    As my opposite palm holds her hand
    I want to stop to picture frame this memory
    We stop at the red light and she asks: can I borrow a forehead kiss
    I respond: as long as you come back again
    p.s. this is happiness, it was something like that…

    Roses

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    • I really enjoy your style of writing! You use a lot of literary devices like repetition, and metaphors which makes this fun to read; it’s kind of like a puzzle which is really engaging for me 🙂 I also love your vocabulary and the way you utilized words. I’m a word buff so the word “jargon” is going on my list of words to learn!

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    • This was so fun to read! My ADHD brain really appreciates the changes in pacing throughout the work.

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  • Joshua (roses) shared a letter in the Group logo of PoetryPoetry group 1 month ago

    ⚠️ This letter has been reported

    Homicidal Ballad

    There was a war within the conversation
    Eight casualties reported that leaves only one left
    The gun holder hears a voice cry: what do you want from me?
    The gun confidently cocks a whisper: I want everything you didn’t give to me back
    You see in my head you were supposed to care
    Package your love as the gift I receive every second of the day
    But you were so nonchalant like the fashionable fabric that hangs off the shoulder purposely and doesn’t care about any penny pinching opinions
    Personality is fashion and doesn’t have to be understood
    I didn’t expect you to comprehend the inner workings, I just wanted you to try
    But you would rather show more interest in other things… I’m one of the reasons you’re still alive
    Funny now I got your life in my hand
    And I’m taking it, out like the trash today that has been sitting for too long
    Anger starts to cry as the gun holder exclaims say goodbye, say goodbye, say goodbye
    Can’t do it can you
    Don’t make me pull this trigger
    You ain’t never been about no action it’s always talk
    Neither have you, you were supposed lead me out of Egypt, but you just had me going in circles of your desert mind
    You were supposed to provide, but all you did was cover your tracks with paid excuses
    I know I’m not perfect and I promise I did try… I’m just still hurt, and the kaleidoscope pain made me dizzy
    It’s hard to move forward when you can’t catch balance as it falls, not to mention verbal bullets trying to permanently end the conversation
    What do you want from me?
    I want a ring, don’t casually date me be committed
    I give you a release, I am your peace, but you only tool this pleasure for your advantage, making copper from gold
    I’m a grown woman not one of your little friends
    I want you to understand my history and stop browsing
    I want you to protect me and walk on the busy side of the street
    I want to feel safe in your arms, keep all the danger locked away
    I’m a queen and want to be your friend to represent our royalty
    I want to be your inhale and you my exhale
    I’m jealous so I want to be your heart and rib
    I want you to love me the way Christ married the cross, and left little posted notes on the mirror in the form of a book for His children’[
    You wanted so much from me but never invested in me, us, our relationship has been life and death, but you keep it in the same breath… As small talk
    Then expect me to take our conversations seriously
    Well, if that’s what it’s going to be I’ll keep your letters piled up on the corner of the desk like the mail I need to throw away
    Cold steel makes me spit sweat and choke on air
    Kill shot, the gun is talking, the conversation has a period in the shape of a bullet
    The white light gets louder as I grow older
    Now what was all that talk you was saying?
    Breathing heavy, is this it, is it too late?
    Breathing heavy, She has blocked me
    She is Poetry and my blood is the ink
    I finally understand but is it too late
    Breathing heavy
    Please poetry take this writers block away from me
    p.s. she just wants respect…

    Roses

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    • This is a masterfully constructed story. From the very first word in the title, I was hooked. You take such sensitive topics and paint them into a spectrum of human emotions. This poem is very raw and I see the humanity within it. I also really like the literary devices, like the personification used to say “ the gun is talking”. Wonderful work 🙂

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      • Thank you so much for your kind words…this poem was simply me trying to capture poetry’s voice for myself as a writer. This is the first poem of a series I am writing where I explore the maturity and relationship I’ve explored with poetry.

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  • Joshua (roses) shared a letter in the Group logo of PoetryPoetry group 1 month ago

    Her Favorite Candle is My Cologne

    She said get dressed we’re going out
    Immediately my introverted thoughts tied me down to chair where I was watching a movie
    She could see my hesitation breathing hard so she quickly interjected
    Before you say no I took care of all the essentials, so you don’t have to worry about anything
    It’s all planned out, and I know you don’t like to always get fancy so this is more of a business casual scene
    She then casually walks away saying I need to go get ready
    We’re leaving in 40
    I leave my comfortable chair and make my way to the closet
    Trying my best to closet my anxiety
    Maybe my off whites will help me walk away from the dark thoughts
    Today feels like a bow tie day
    I usually put my cologne on last but in the rush of the moment things got mixed up
    Tree sprays and she could sense the scent in the atmosphere change
    Lust became a dangerous game
    She ran my direction and said close your eyes before she entered the room
    I don’t want you to see my outfit
    She ran up behind me and her lips hugged my cheek
    Then she walked in front of me, her hands covered my eyes
    She asked what is that you’re wearing
    As I started to speak her lips gripped mine before I could get a word out
    She said is smells sweet
    I replied: like candy
    She answered: yes
    She then proceeded to steal two more candy coated cologne kisses from me
    Now finish getting ready she whispered as she left the room
    p.s. I’m so in love…

    Roses

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  • Joshua (roses) shared a letter in the Group logo of PoetryPoetry group 1 month ago

    Buy Her Flowers

    Roses are blue and violets are red
    When I think of you everything is backwards in my head
    Like what I usually would never do I’m now thinking about times two
    Every reservation turns into an invitation, so I made plans including dinner for two
    Her favorite flower is a rose, and what would a rose be by any other name
    If I pick a rose does it take my last name
    Roses are pink and Lilys are Lilac
    Lavender conversations tastes different when you know she has your back
    A rose tattooed on my back is dead until your finger tips hug my thorns
    A relationship embraces the pain of every fallen petal
    A rose is just a star but with you holding it I can see the galaxy
    Dreams aren’t that far away with you in the passenger seat
    She drives me crazy and I don’t mind
    What’s happiness without adversity
    Is a rose still as beautiful without the barb wire
    Roses are white and sunflowers are teal
    In a crowded room, far away, but I can still feel
    You
    U without the y. o. because something is different
    U and I could be different, and the world needs a change
    p.s. I just want to buy you flowers…

    Roses

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  • Joshua (roses) shared a letter in the Group logo of PoetryPoetry group 1 month ago

    I Planted Something New

    It’s the breath I need but can’t reach
    Arms extended as far as they can reach
    But the superhero is late this time and can’t save me
    Plan ahead they say so you can make time to smell the flower things
    I’ve never been much of a gardener
    However, today I’m planting mustard seeds
    So, my confidence can age as grand as the canyon
    I can finally picture heaven in the palm of my hands with this Canon
    Camera, bombing any part of hell left in my yesterday that tries to burn my film
    Hope used to be a dream then I made my dreams come true
    Hope used to slip through my fingers but now I wear it as a cape
    Flying over depression, fear, and regret
    Debts I no longer wish to add to
    Stop subtracting from you, thinking to myself
    Hope is priceless, you don’t have to play tag with money
    That’s why the tag looks out of place in a garden
    The highest value holders are free
    Plant faith and wake up in a field of dreams
    Plant a rose and fall in love
    Plant patience and endurance will run past any future
    Harmony outlasts pains earthquake
    Honor overcomes poisoned endings
    And it gives me hope that tomorrow isn’t so bad after all
    I don’t always feel super, but I will be my own hero
    p.s. don’t forget your cape…

    Roses

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  • Joshua (roses) shared a letter in the Group logo of ParentingParenting group 1 month ago

    My Son Remember This

    Coloring when you’re younger is letting each shade have it’s alone time
    They say elders deserve it
    But I never had the opportunity to see your hair age to grey
    You were a silver fox
    Illusive with your presence, no matter how much of a present it would be for me
    Doesn’t anyone care about how I feel
    I didn’t ask to be here, yet I am, and everything is falling apart… And I have to pick up the pieces and make something beautiful
    Whoever said horror was beautiful never had a cut deeper than the surface
    I can’t escape this horror story, and adults keep preaching about the honor they don’t even hold on to
    Your moral compass clearly was never fixed so stop trying to fix me
    I’ll do it myself just like everything else
    I don’t care if I take the long way
    What’s a little more pain with this depression
    This is what I imagined your thoughts said after you heard me communicate: mom and dad are getting a divorce
    I’m sorry to have multiplied the trend of men walking out of your life
    Son, I’m sorry and I hope you don’t keep your hands around the neck of a grudge
    My son I love you, I’m sorry your picture of love now has a crack in it,
    My everything, if you hate me and ignore everything else, please remember this: respect is earned not given
    So, learn to give it even when it’s not deserved
    Because pain can learn to heal when patience reflects
    Respect can’t be bought so don’t spend your money on brands expecting it to elevate your title
    Your name holds a weight more valuable than gold, not even the world can hold
    You, let nothing hold you back
    Dad will always have your back
    Respect those that hurt you, more than the love they didn’t give
    When you treat respect like the kindness everyone should receive you won’t have to ask for it
    Then you can paint your own future
    Coloring when you’re older is letting the paint sit at the grown folks table and mix conversation
    p.s. no matter what our colors will always match…

    Roses

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