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poetry by the new me. proper credits keep the current flowing! @uknowhim
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| Date | Subscriber Growth | Mentions | Channels | |
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Channel Posts
asleep
not every love smells,
of cheese and cakes.
not every love asks,
to keep you awake.
some loves do ask,
for your flesh, your soul.
while some ask,
for deeds, noble and foul.
but love in itself,
teaches you to live.
to ask for so little,
and give and give and give.
| 2 | yesterday
i thought
we'd meet
tomorrow,
but it seems
it was
yesterday. | 316 |
| 3 | typo
it's funny how
the loss of
a forgotten rhyme
pricks me more,
than the loss
of the one
i meant to
write it for. | 3 605 |
| 4 | august
and so,
in the month
of august,
i'll be left alone,
wondering if
we ever met and
actually held hands
last year,
in the month
of august. | 392 |
| 5 | apocalips
what if
we kissed
and kissed
and kissed
and kissed?
the world
is ending,
the oceans
are spilling,
i know, right?
but what if
we kissed
and kissed
and kissed
and kissed? | 445 |
| 6 | apocalips
what if
we kissed
and kissed
and kissed
and kissed?
the world
is ending,
the oceans
are spilling,
i know, right?
but what if
we kissed
and kissed
and kissed
and kissed? | 1 |
| 7 | everyone
for some
i was fire,
for some
i was ice.
for some
i was nasty,
for some
i was nice.
some kept
me close,
some kept
me at bay.
for some
i stayed too long,
for some
i ran away. | 242 |
| 8 | dyslexia
i set out sober,
writing down
the thoughts
in my mind.
in a blink,
something moves,
something changes,
i don't know why.
and suddenly
it all feels different,
drifted far away from
what i had planned.
the haywire mess
is now a kaleidoscope,
reflecting memories
intoxicated by you. | 680 |
| 9 | fickle
i see that you've started
to read someone else's rhymes.
also, you seem to find peace
in songs that aren't mine.
you smile even wider
at the jokes they crack
and this, on my frail heart,
leaves fissures so fine.
so tell me, if you really, really
loved the sun, would you
abandon it when it has
too much to shine? | 757 |
| 10 | since when
did it become
so loud that
you chose to
be quiet
instead? | 327 |
| 11 | https://t.me/themoodyfellow
All about the admin. 👆 | 237 |
| 12 | anonymous
i lowkey know
who you are,
but secrecy,
i see now,
has its own
sweet joy. | 2 664 |
| 13 | drenched
and may you
be showered
with so much love
that you forget
if grief was
ever a thing. | 482 |
| 14 | the pretty girl
the little girl sold roses,
in the sun, and in the rain.
i mostly saw her bare-foot,
as i hurried to catch my train.
on the busy roads she roamed
as if she never heard of toys.
brushing past pretty girls, who
sought flowers from their boys.
upon selling one she smiles,
and then toils on in need.
who knows she got a sister,
or maybe a family to feed.
one day, i walked to her,
my train had time to spare.
"so don't you like roses?'
she then gave me a stare.
caressing the drops of dew,
i then asked for the price.
"how many do you need?"
"just one would be nice."
the brightest one in the
pack, she pulled out for me.
in her eyes i only saw, the
warmth of what could be.
i took it without a thought
and tucked it behind her ear.
handed her the rupee note,
"it would suit you better, dear!"
a bit startled and shy, she
giggled and gave a sigh.
one final adjustment to the rose,
and then we said goodbye.
i saw her galloping to the mirror,
the train on platform three.
hoping she would tell her herself,
"maybe his pretty girl was me." | 1 158 |
| 15 | (untitled)
let's say we met again,
not by choice,
but by chance,
this time.
the cinematic lock of eyes,
the urge to break free,
the shiver down our spines,
standing rooted like a tree.
as always i'm scared
to even brush your palm,
but now you seem too busy
to notice the lost calm.
so if i try to pretend
that i don't remember you,
tell me, would you
try hard to forget me too? | 500 |
| 16 | ember
and when they found
a lighter in his pocket,
they didn’t ask
if he smoked.
instead, they wondered
if he might let something
too precious be gulped
by the flames. | 659 |
| 17 | salt
i weathered
the world,
didn't even
sigh.
i tried
peeling onions,
they made
me cry. | 681 |
| 18 | truce
see how the world
is wrecked with wars,
and somehow
we found us with
such an ease.
people be having
tough times
making up their minds,
and yet somehow you
chose me over peace. | 1 815 |
| 19 | the sphinx
i guess i knocked doors
of forbidden tombs,
or ripped open by mistake
some forsaken wounds,
and they won't stop
haunting me now,
and they won't stop
bleeding me now,
not at all. | 794 |
| 20 | the brew
and maybe, perhaps,
having a taste
for poetry
is something like
having a taste
for coffee.
some can’t imagine
a day without it,
while some just
don’t seem to
like it much,
or even hate it.
some like it cold,
some mildly warm,
and some piping hot,
the kind that
dares to burn
your tongue. | 1 568 |
