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Written by Winterreign in portal Poetry & Free Verse

Paper & broken toys

Take a piece of paper

And shred it

Into tiny pieces,

Try to take scissors

And cut it

Into small pieces,

Now tape

The pieces of

Paper together,

Is it fixed ?

And did it

Go back

To it original state?

If your answer is yes

You are wrong,

Sure you fixed

That piece of paper

With tape

Or glue,

And it looks fine

But if you

Examine closely

And do

An expection

You will realize

There are still

Some broken

Pieces and holes

Left in that

Tiny piece of paper.

It is still broken

There are still

Some scars, cuts and bruises

Left within

That one piece of paper,

It's not 100% whole

Even though

You put it back together,

The damage has

Already been done,

Even if you say

Sorry a billion times

To that piece of paper

It will never recover

Or be healed again,

People stomped

And stepped

On that piece of paper,

People spit

And insulted it

They mocked it

They shred it to pieces

And tore it apart

Until it

Was left broken,

And so it will never

Be the same

Piece of paper

It was before,

So be careful

What you

Say to someone,

Because those

Words you used

To describe

That person,

Can cause lots

Of damage

And that person

Will never forget

What you said,

No matter

How much time

Has passed,

You never forget.

Words can cut deep

Like a bullet or a knife.

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Written by Winterreign in portal Poetry & Free Verse
Paper & broken toys
Take a piece of paper
And shred it
Into tiny pieces,

Try to take scissors
And cut it
Into small pieces,

Now tape
The pieces of
Paper together,

Is it fixed ?
And did it
Go back
To it original state?

If your answer is yes
You are wrong,

Sure you fixed
That piece of paper
With tape
Or glue,

And it looks fine
But if you
Examine closely
And do
An expection

You will realize
There are still
Some broken
Pieces and holes
Left in that
Tiny piece of paper.

It is still broken
There are still
Some scars, cuts and bruises
Left within
That one piece of paper,

It's not 100% whole
Even though
You put it back together,

The damage has
Already been done,

Even if you say
Sorry a billion times
To that piece of paper
It will never recover
Or be healed again,

People stomped
And stepped
On that piece of paper,

People spit
And insulted it
They mocked it

They shred it to pieces
And tore it apart
Until it
Was left broken,

And so it will never
Be the same
Piece of paper
It was before,

So be careful
What you
Say to someone,

Because those
Words you used
To describe
That person,

Can cause lots
Of damage
And that person
Will never forget
What you said,

No matter
How much time
Has passed,

You never forget.

Words can cut deep
Like a bullet or a knife.
#words  #broken 
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Written by Cross in portal Poetry & Free Verse

LOGOS

I left the perfect phrase

Right here.

But the language

Is wrong.

It has happened before.

The meaning

Lost in translation.

Spiralling words

Scattered to the wind

As Babel crumbled

As we forgot

The sounds

Of our neighbours

And were captivated

By the sounds

Of war.

Would it be pretentious

To write the same way

That I think?

Perhaps.

Incomprehensible?

Certainly.

The meaning

The rhythm

The rhymes

The essence;

They fail to carry over

To words you would understand.

So I am left

Confused.

Confounded.

Compromised

By this disability

To impress on written word

Fleeting thoughts.

And you wonder why

I fail

To make sense.

A multilingual curse.

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Written by Cross in portal Poetry & Free Verse
LOGOS
I left the perfect phrase
Right here.
But the language
Is wrong.
It has happened before.

The meaning
Lost in translation.
Spiralling words
Scattered to the wind
As Babel crumbled
As we forgot
The sounds
Of our neighbours
And were captivated
By the sounds
Of war.

Would it be pretentious
To write the same way
That I think?
Perhaps.
Incomprehensible?
Certainly.

The meaning
The rhythm
The rhymes
The essence;
They fail to carry over
To words you would understand.

So I am left
Confused.
Confounded.
Compromised
By this disability
To impress on written word
Fleeting thoughts.

And you wonder why
I fail
To make sense.

A multilingual curse.
#poetry  #words  #communication  #barriers 
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Written by WhiteRain

Wann

I see the bare sky

the sun makes me suspicious

if only with my eyes

when?

I talk a lengthy stroll

upon the naked asphalt

trying to make up something to ponder

when?

I was more adamant about what was

to be when it was gone

but it is here and I'm at a loss

when?

Did I suspect it to be as simple

as a path newly paved

honey bricked to my cause

when? 

I suppose I could keep looking

for what with suspicious eyes 

I have no damn clue

when? 

I stop at a cross

stuck between the earth above 

and below and I know the answer

now.

  

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Written by WhiteRain
Wann
I see the bare sky
the sun makes me suspicious
if only with my eyes
when?

I talk a lengthy stroll
upon the naked asphalt
trying to make up something to ponder
when?

I was more adamant about what was
to be when it was gone
but it is here and I'm at a loss
when?

Did I suspect it to be as simple
as a path newly paved
honey bricked to my cause
when? 

I suppose I could keep looking
for what with suspicious eyes 
I have no damn clue
when? 

I stop at a cross
stuck between the earth above 
and below and I know the answer
now.
  
#words  #life  #purpose  #begin 
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Day 4: Define boffola without looking up the definition. If you already know it more power to you!
Written by poeticasymptote

Bison Trouble

n. female form of buffalo

Buffalo boffola

Buffalo buffalo buffalo

buffalo Buffalo buffalo

---

Uh oh.

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Day 4: Define boffola without looking up the definition. If you already know it more power to you!
Written by poeticasymptote
Bison Trouble
n. female form of buffalo

Buffalo boffola
Buffalo buffalo buffalo
buffalo Buffalo buffalo

---
Uh oh.
#challenge  #words  #homonyms 
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Write a haiku by reversing the rules as, 7/5/7 syllables instead of 5/7/5 syllables. Rhyme appreciated!
Written by poeticasymptote in portal Haiku

7/5/7 haiku

a tiny drop of honey

words from you to me

sweet enough, it made my day

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Write a haiku by reversing the rules as, 7/5/7 syllables instead of 5/7/5 syllables. Rhyme appreciated!
Written by poeticasymptote in portal Haiku
7/5/7 haiku
a tiny drop of honey
words from you to me
sweet enough, it made my day
#romance  #poetry  #challenge  #words 
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Chapter 28 of Of Love, Loss & Loneliness
Written by Cross in portal Poetry & Free Verse

Distant Shores

I fling my words erratically

-Blindly-

Hoping that someone, somewhere,

Somehow, some day,

Will find them.

And take the time

To listen-

To decode.

To unlock the secrets within.

To care,

And understand.

To sketch a portrait of this mind;

Incomplete,

Smudged,

With hard drawn lines

And smooth shadows.

Abstract

And monochromatic.

And perhaps someone, somewhere,

Somehow, some day,

Will find in these words

Something to take away.

A motivation,

Or maybe their own thoughts

Externalized by a foreign pen.

A sliver of hope, or lack thereof.

A helping voice

In the silent abyss.

A thought, or new perception;

Or even an opinion to disagree with.

Anything will do.

If ever

These contagious words

Find a distant shore,

Then I shall know the meaning

Of happiness.

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Chapter 28 of Of Love, Loss & Loneliness
Written by Cross in portal Poetry & Free Verse
Distant Shores
I fling my words erratically
-Blindly-
Hoping that someone, somewhere,
Somehow, some day,
Will find them.

And take the time
To listen-
To decode.
To unlock the secrets within.
To care,
And understand.

To sketch a portrait of this mind;
Incomplete,
Smudged,
With hard drawn lines
And smooth shadows.
Abstract
And monochromatic.

And perhaps someone, somewhere,
Somehow, some day,
Will find in these words
Something to take away.
A motivation,
Or maybe their own thoughts
Externalized by a foreign pen.
A sliver of hope, or lack thereof.
A helping voice
In the silent abyss.
A thought, or new perception;
Or even an opinion to disagree with.

Anything will do.

If ever
These contagious words
Find a distant shore,
Then I shall know the meaning
Of happiness.
#poetry  #words  #loneliness  #LLL 
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Written by sheldon_andre in portal Poetry & Free Verse

Submerge

It's always me, never you

That's dragging you down underwater

And I'm glad that you left me alone

'Cause I broke faster than this mirror

I'm happy that you pick up the phone

But I'm sorry I labeled you dearer. And

It's always me, never you

That's dragging you down underwater

I'm sorry that you were my home

That this attraction would just appear

Because now I can't hear her

You can think I'm styrofoam because

It's always me, never you

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Written by sheldon_andre in portal Poetry & Free Verse
Submerge
It's always me, never you
That's dragging you down underwater
And I'm glad that you left me alone
'Cause I broke faster than this mirror

I'm happy that you pick up the phone
But I'm sorry I labeled you dearer. And
It's always me, never you
That's dragging you down underwater

I'm sorry that you were my home
That this attraction would just appear
Because now I can't hear her
You can think I'm styrofoam because
It's always me, never you
#poetry  #words  #lost 
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Written by WhiteRain

Place

"I see."

I slammed into a door of their making.

These people. 

With quenched power lust. 

I had re-open the door sewn shut.

The door of communication.

And once again I slammed into it. 

"Alright then."

I walk away.

My eyes slowly slit in acceptance.

My poster closed off.

I now was alone. 

In my place clearly set.

And they wonder at my silence.  

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Written by WhiteRain
Place
"I see."
I slammed into a door of their making.
These people. 
With quenched power lust. 
I had re-open the door sewn shut.
The door of communication.
And once again I slammed into it. 
"Alright then."
I walk away.
My eyes slowly slit in acceptance.
My poster closed off.
I now was alone. 
In my place clearly set.
And they wonder at my silence.  
#words  #anger  #acceptance  #neverchanges 
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Written by WhiteRain

The End

There's a certain echoed exhale when a book ends

Its almost as if the universe mourns as much as you do

your leaving from its world

But yet still after 

the last of the book's words 

ripple and ascend from the pages 

curling around you in quiet farewell

asking only that you remember them

long into your entrance into a new literary escape

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Written by WhiteRain
The End
There's a certain echoed exhale when a book ends

Its almost as if the universe mourns as much as you do

your leaving from its world

But yet still after 

the last of the book's words 

ripple and ascend from the pages 

curling around you in quiet farewell

asking only that you remember them

long into your entrance into a new literary escape
#words 
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Written by WhiteRain

Ghost

I can think to fill up my mind.

The space used is cracking the sides of my skull. 

And yet it is still nothing.

So much nothing.

A ghost leaving footprints in the snow.

Where am I?

I fight with that question everyday.

I stare quizzically at the ceiling

making it uncomfortable. 

To what end can thoughts mean anything

if they are not expressed or given life through art?

Is it just a thought that falls up into the sky?

Never to return?

Or even after we give it a name and collar

does it still fail to stand with the living?

A butterfly doesn't think about how it was once

a caterpillar. So why do I?

I can't exist without questions but God I wish I could. 

They never end. 

If I don't give them attention, give them breath

than they too are just ghosts leaving footprints. 

And I can't let that happen.

So day after day its me, my mind and my body.

All saying one thing but meaning another.

And I the blind interpreter must read all their complaints.  

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Written by WhiteRain
Ghost
I can think to fill up my mind.
The space used is cracking the sides of my skull. 
And yet it is still nothing.
So much nothing.
A ghost leaving footprints in the snow.
Where am I?
I fight with that question everyday.
I stare quizzically at the ceiling
making it uncomfortable. 
To what end can thoughts mean anything
if they are not expressed or given life through art?
Is it just a thought that falls up into the sky?
Never to return?
Or even after we give it a name and collar
does it still fail to stand with the living?
A butterfly doesn't think about how it was once
a caterpillar. So why do I?
I can't exist without questions but God I wish I could. 
They never end. 
If I don't give them attention, give them breath
than they too are just ghosts leaving footprints. 
And I can't let that happen.
So day after day its me, my mind and my body.
All saying one thing but meaning another.
And I the blind interpreter must read all their complaints.  

#words  #thoughts  #anxiety 
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