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 1700° 
skyler

he may have broken her
but her eyes will still glow golden in soft sunlight
even if her cheeks are stained with tears

s.s

Im too fixated in each moment -
Each moment feels so intense,

I'm lost
On the dark side of the moon,
And nothing here has any warmth,
Worth or substance ~
Nothing here makes any sense.

Even my own shadow has left me.
The Monsters, still lurking
In the darkness,
Have stolen all of my hopes
And dreams away,

I can hear the wolves,
They are hauntingly howling -
There's nowhere safe that I can run to,
On this, here, dark, dreary day.

There will be no stars
To light up the pitch-black night-skies,
They have already fallen,
Just like the Angels
That I once loved and knew,

Everything that I once held onto
As sacred, has been molested -
I've been abandoned, once again;
Hell, again, I am being forced
To walk through.

Alone, I was born and raised,
Only my pain has been consistent-
It has held my hand
Throughout my entire life.

At some point, somehow,
I stupidly gave birth
To expectations,
Luckily, I woke up
And divorced reality,
Hence becoming solitude's
Dedicated and loving wife.

On the dark side of the moon
Compassion, loyalty and trust
Are nonexistent.
Evil dwells in almost every man
And woman,

Each with his or her own agenda,
Each with his or her own selfish plan.

Saviors do not exist,
Superheroes all wear masks,

Unconditional love is but an illusion,
Here, I revert to relying solely
On the harshness of reality,
For, the truth, it always exposes
And unmasks.

The dark side of the moon
Is a very lonely, isolating place,
In which to dwell,

There is no sunshine,
No stars or Angels -
The only light visible
Comes from the flames
Of the evildoers'
Raging fiery hell!

Placed here against my will,
No lush green valley in sight,

Taken away
From the divinity of nature,
I was cruelly robbed
Of my radiant life-giving daylight.

Doomed for being too real,
Too open and too honest,
Doomed for loving too much.

Doomed for believing in superheroes,
Doomed for allowing a human
To become my crutch.

Doomed for being too empathetic,
Doomed for being too sincere.

Doomed for being too kind
And too generous,
I'm doomed, abandoned here.

I blame only myself
For allowing my intuitive awareness
And intelligence to fade away
Like the stars that once adorned
Every exquisite night-sky,

I blame only myself
For not using the blessed insight
Of my third eye.

I'm too fixated in each moment,
Each moment feels so intense,

I'm too passionate about life
To give up and remain imprisoned
On the dark side of the moon...
But I'm too emotionally weak
And disappointed to jump the fence.

By Lady R.F. (C)2018

 340° 
Mouthpiece

Do I feel things
None of you do?
I have a feeling
That just isn't true
I'm human, just like you;
Are you human too?
I dunno

Turn on the TV;
There's nothing new
To me
Since the news
Always seems too bad
To be true
And the sadness
Shows no signs
Of stopping
Is that why we
Ultimately
Do nothing?

The thrill's
Going,
Going
Gone.
Leave the TV on.

See Pornography: https://hellopoetry.com/poem/2166736/pornography/

An impromptu prelude to Pornography, pertaining to the sensation of societal spectacle prefixing apathy and existencial introspect, for myself at least--almost as if I'm the only human alive; this was a common thought I had as a child. It's also meant to sound petulant, hence the lack of complicity.

This is one of a pair; the second, Hardcore, will have to wait until I'm ready to blow my own head off.
 312° 
Scrap Metal

i dont get it
i dont get us
sometimes im not sure i get anything
it might just be my downfall;
trying so hard to grasp it all
helplessly adrift, i fee like a rag doll.
people have the gall to portray what they are not,
we fight for equality
when honesty is an anomaly,
give credit to the pathetic
while the empathetic medic
administers an anesthetic
so he/she can save a life, unnoticed
but focused on which celebrity, out of Beverly
who got another synthetic appendage, unsatisfied with their genetic
aesthetic over utility
delusion over reality
we as a society coward away from reality

 225° 
kate

there's nothing more upsetting
than seeing beautiful people
hate themselves.

a short one.
 209° 
Jasmine Reid

I feel trapped inside my mind, and my body.
As if it does not belong to me, it is not mine.
I am stuck in a human body, filled with dreams, hopes and desires.
All kinds, hopes filled with happiness, dreams that turn to dust without being touched, and sinful and twisted desires that seem they will never be brought to this humans reality.

I feel like I'm throwing up invisible flowers,
Hanahaki Disease.

But because they're invisible to others and possibly even me,
I do not know if it was truly there or to be.
I'm infected with my depressing and constantly moving and changing thoughts, do I need drugs to fix my brain?

I want everything to stop this growing disease, this infection that has leaked into my brain and corrupting my thoughts.

Purity is a lie.
Sin is truth.
Life is meant to be on the edge.
Death is a sweet embrace we should take.
Falling from my bed, I feel like I want to go deeper into the ocean under our human world, and drown in the true reality, and to no longer suffocate from breathing in the waves of falsification.

I wish to see, the real me.
What everyone else sees to be me,
but I do not even know myself?
I wish to be seduced into something true and beautiful,
I wish to not be fed lies that the world persist to be the truth.

I wish to go to my salvation.
I'm A Sick Girl.

I'm not crazy, just strangely creative.™ - Quote by Jasmine Reid 8:39PM 23rd Of January 2018.
 149° 
Happy Ending
Her

She didn't walk away because she didn't love you.
She didn't walk away because she was weak.

She walked away because she loved you so much, but she knew that she would lose herself and every bit of strength she had left fighting for you...

 140° 
Preeti Adhikari

It's just 4:00 a.m.
I am alone in the balcony
Cold wind giving therapy to my face..
Nature showing its solace.
And i ... Standing still
Breathing fast..
Breaking the chaos and auroras of past ..

It's just 4:00 a.m.
Clouds are heavy ..
My hands aquiver ..
Sky being navy ..
Though tenebrific..
Birds sounding nice..

It's just 4:00 a.m.
And i am able to enjoy my own company..
See how far the moon is
And indicating me it's bravery..

I wonder how lonely it would be last night .. but hushing everyone to sleep more ..
It's 4:00 a.m. now and see i am appreciating it  and both of us have found the company

 129° 
Salmabanu Hatim

The teacher wanted me to take an IQ test,
They took my blood test,
The result was A+
Wow!I was a genius.

The teacher asked me what was a line,
I thought and I thought,
I said," A dot going for a walk."

He told me to write something on
"How to save trees"
Butterflies and bees,
It is better
To save paper,
So say "No To Exams."

What is hard water?
Simple, ice cubes in refrigerator.

The  teacher gave  up.
Did I pass the test?

I was clever.That was a fact
 126° 
John Shamus Canton

I want to kiss
every inch of your lips,
feeling the words your tongue has bred,
if you bit me,
I would still kiss thee
long after my lips had bled,
I'd let blood trickle down
and spatter the ground
so that I could keep the flowers fed;
for roses naturally bloom white,
it is only love's bite
that offers them shades of red.

 106° 
Edward Coles

I painted you.
With trembling, amateur precision,
I suffered each line on your face.

Each fleck of sun,
Your candid smile,
Your immediate beauty in the foreground
Of an exceptional ocean.

Stumbling blindly through the days,
Fumbling for the switch
In a punch-drunk, love-sick afternoon.

Apart from you,
Stripped, exposed,
Laid prone on the gurney
With my skull in a vice
And a fist to my stomach.

I can barely stand because of you.

I painted you this afternoon
So I could toil in your gaze.
Pray I am an interesting splatter,
A noticeable blight;
A happy accident on your page.

C
 104° 
David Swinden

As I watched you slip away
I hoped we would meet again
Through all the pouring rain
There was a chink of light
And you where shining bright
I held you in my arms once again
And I hoped this love would remain
The love I so truly cherished
Spoke of which such merit
Cradled and whispered I love you
To you I gave my heart so true
I dreamed of all the times we shared
And my heart I gave to you and bared
I wanted it to last forever this time
And together we would always remain
Then one day you left me all alone
Freezing cold like winter to the bone  
As I watched you slip away
Emotional turmoil once again
Again……

David Swinden 23/1/2018

First poem in a long time :-)
 87° 
vanessa ann

this is a tale
of two star-crossed lovers
with a love so powerful
they tainted the heavens
with bursts of colors

they were never meant to be;
a scorpio and libra
finding love in sinful glee
in laughter, between dreams and reality

and though it was lawless,
they found solace
because in every prison,
they found a rhyme and a reason

but even for a love so great,
they could not escape
the fates’ wrath and envy

destiny pulled on their threads
cut them loose, thrusted them into misery;
for their memories were wiped clean,
but feelings remained as strong as they had ever been

the boy exiled in a far off land
across the pacific sea
the girl trapped in her need to break free
in a realm both boring and bland

ensnared in a labyrinth of woe
the lovers yearned for anything—
for something, for someone,
to obliterate this endless longing

the gods answered them
in the form of two loved ones
polished in every edge,
a perfect someone

but perfect felt too perfect
and not perfect enough
to fill up the hole
left by a perfectly imperfect

until one day the gods whispered
for the winds to push the two
and the birds to tug at their sleeves
over mountain and sea
even through the darkest valley
so their paths would finally meet

and so they did.

in the flurry of a moment
a pair of brown eyes met
and time was frozen
once more

the two stared intently
as if remembering a broken melody
a lost childhood song
branded as a wrong

the birds fluttered and flew
taking the cursed red fibre
snipped them in two
and the lovers felt all the lighter

it was the girl who spoke first:
“fuck the stars.
i don’t want perfect,
i want you.”

eyes dazzling, the boy nodded:
“we’ll invert the universe—
the night sky a blank white
the stars pitch black
the earth moving in reverse”

the fates saw and surrendered
as the stars began to wither
for this love is love
in all its splendor

so the lovers walked away with a promise
under their breaths, they both swore:
“i lost you once,
but nevermore.”

they say no one can rewrite the stars,
so i propose we orchestrate supernovas.
 70° 
Jey Blu

it's january twenty-second, two-thousand eighteen.
my sister lies in a hospital bed after a suicide attempt.
it's january twenty-second, two-thousand eighteen.
yesterday i was at the mall while my sister was rushed to the er.
it's january twenty-second, two-thousand eighteen.
she swallowed a bottle of pills yesterday to try to make the hurt go away.
it's january twenty-second, two-thousand eighteen.
her heart rate went down too low.
it's january twenty-second, two-thousand eighteen.
she needed me when i wasn't there.
it's january twenty-second, two-thousand eighteen.
my nightmares have become a reality.
it's january twenty-second, two-thousand eighteen.
she's not dead, but she isn't alive.
it's january twenty-second, two-thousand eighteen.
the demons lurk in her eyes and i want them gone as much as she does.
it's january twenty-second, two-thousand eighteen.
she looked so pale with the charcoal staining her tongue black.
it's january twenty-second, two-thousand eighteen.
i sit here with a blade and consider breaking my promise.
it's january twenty-second, two-thousand eighteen.
i continue to repeat these lines.
it's january twenty-second, two-thousand eighteen.
maybe it's a mantra, but it feels like my last words.
it's january twenty-second, two-thousand eighteen.
i want her back home.
it's january twenty-second, two-thousand eighteen.
the desperation in my soul begins to surface.
it's january twenty-second, two-thousand eighteen.
come home soon squish.
it's january twenty-second, two-thousand eighteen.
otherwise i might join you in that hospital bed.

She's out of danger and healthy enough for now. But the mental hospital isn't home.
 70° 
Marinazinya

He opened my limbs, slowly he poured his warm breath between me, so warm that it felt like a candle wax. Hankered so he could stroke in one of his fingers. Derided I was that I wanted to sink my teeth into him. Rainy his tongue was,that the drops felt like glaciers, moved by the tongue delicately that couldn’t move my corpse. Pricking every sense that I had left..... Ou he was divine

Devine that I splattered his image with my sap, finally he gave me a savor taste of my encephalon .

 66° 
Luca C
Her

The darkest things showed up when she did.
Maybe they came with her, haunting her.
Or maybe she was the darkness.

maybe
 63° 
Johndre

i met you in the dark,
and i loved you from the start.
we were happy in the park
but i saw you one day
in that same spot,
with someone else,
stroking your hair
and making you laugh.
oh how i wish
i would be someone
you wouldn't want to lose
but you had another one,
which made me feel all sad
but i still hope
that someday, somewhere,
and someone would finally love me
just like how i loved you like the world.

idk if this is okay, i just made this on the spot so this is ugly lol sorry for this shitty work
 55° 
Banan

I feel it all, i feel it to the core
Every bit and every ounce
Its under my skin
Rushing through the jugular
harboring every part
every corner
Of my soul

I close my eyes
and picture the light
behind your eyes
And its radiating warmth
that melted the icicles
within me
Into bottomless oceans
shoreless seas
Of devotion
Of love
Where i immerse into life

I close my eyes
and think of your lips
touching mine
And ascending into the sky
of a moonlit night
where the stars
shine only for me
lighting my way
and guiding me

I close my eyes
and think of breathing you in
Breathing your scent
and how the air has never been clear

I close my eyes
and i could feel
That i found the compass
That leads me home
When my little fingers
Fill the gaps
Between yours
And my heart racing its beats
Leaking love, leaking you

I close my eyes
and picture your features
and i see the rest of my life
Safe and sound
Latching on to you

 55° 
Violet

I cried
Because I watched your smile form
And I knew
That you had changed

 53° 
laura jessica

so happy
so happ
so hap
so ha
so h
so
s
su
sui
suic
suici
suicid
suicida
suicidal

 51° 
Happy Ending

Stop setting yourself on fire for people who will sit back and watch you burn.

 49° 
Moonlight Bliss

near or far, my heart
will always be yours to hold
handle it with care

Please.
 49° 
Nakia

I thought we had forgotten each other
But I find myself thinking about you more
I assume that I fooled myself into thinking I had gave you up
But every time I think I've made you proud I feel a little better
You're no good for me and you're causing me nothing but harm
But you are the epitome of beauty
Of perfection and everything craved by others
I grow fond of you over time
You're with me when I choose to eat
I think about you sometimes when I sleep
And when I lay my eyes on someone more beautiful than myself and even you
I can't help but think of you
But can anyone truly be anymore beautiful than you
I didn't think the monster under my bed could become something I fall in love with
Bu there you are
Whispering things into my ears that I don't think I want to hear
You starve me of my youth
And every time I try and give you up you remind me of your purpose
You make me feel so weak and tiny but so heavy yet empty
And when I come back around to you
My every thought revolves around you
My boyfriend doesn't
My family doesn't
And sometimes I think I hate you for that
But then someone asks if I've lost weight
And my faith in you is restored

 47° 
clem turner

greasy hair, but not too greasy
that I can't shape it,
dark circles, but no bags,

i'm okay with being unhygienic
if it's the cute kind

how do my disorders look today?
they're adorable until
you scream in class
and drop to the floor,
but now i know
not to do that anymore

or else no one will wanna be seen with me

sleep deprivation is okay if i'm able to walk
with swagger,
when my legs bounce
up and down during a test?
i feel like a real James Dean,

and my clothes can be disheveled
if they still match

i need to wear deodorant
but my shoes can look old,

i've seen too many posts
about boys that look hot
when they look like they haven't slept
in a week

well i haven't slept in three months
and i wonder when my self destruction
will be attractive enough
for you.

 47° 
patty m

Dark blue
nubby crochet
my handmade efforts
cook a meal, iron a shirt
and kiss you to the moon 
and back.  
Love beyond expectation
a breathless bit of magic 
expressed in little things.

 46° 
Monica S

The beat of my heart,
Us woven in your car.
The heat up warm,
Loud, clean alarm.

Your lips on mine,
Distanced white line.
Bodies intertwined,
I knew you fine.

The windows steamed,
A midnight's dream.
Sparkle in your eyes,
They tell no lies.

Pushed me down.
Home, I found.
The patter of rain,
Can't stop a flame.

 46° 
Lex

I can't stop touching my lips
because they have touched yours
your soft touch
is oh so innocent and sweet

my lashes closed
your hand on my waist
I never supposed it would be you
but nevertheless
our journey began.

~LJ
 46° 
Catalina

An empath
Just a ProSonderer
Nothing more
But quick to learn
every human’s soul
will be instinctively felt
just as the breeze flows
through that open window

A soul
it’s wandering to your heart’s beat
on rare occasion it deviates from the tune
nothing more

—Because you don’t acknowledge
its existence yet;
Could you truly expect to progress
in finding your soul’s mate
when you don’t even know your spirit’s home?—

A pair of souls is always made from a single star
so when you find another
that renders your talkative self speechless
or leaves your smooth conversing ways to only a stutter
Find another that leaves you in awe and wonder
that makes your chest feel comfort in the ache
when you're longing not only at midnight
but in public midday for that other

if its a flame
that just won't fade
no matter how long you stay
tell yourself to not push this one away
you're not in danger anymore

let that person breach your barricades
allow them a chance to understand your spirit’s ways
you'll soon stop automatically
encouraging them to go
the day will arrive when you won’t be itching to show them the door

chances are you'll find
nothing's worth more
then an empath finding their
lone star soul in their own time

And as a sondering empath
I understand having that
(impenetrably
-fragile only to a certain fine-tuned touch-
translucent but sporadically opaque)
guard with others
Seems like a darkly humored folklore
a normal person’s usual day
is just a daunting notion due to exhaustion from feeling everyone's emotion
but when you meet that one
you won't just understand their soul
you'll have a brand new reading
and it’ll feel horrifyingly confusing

just remember there's a first time for everything
when that someone intuitively understands you.

 45° 
Mongi

Weeping Tree

Weeping tree
In a place I haven't known
Only known to our forefathers
You've been told in tales
Giants of the land have journeyed
In quest for your warm embrace
While the minute ants from the dust
Have ignorantly grazed
Right under your mysteries
You've been a mystery to the seeker
But a treasure to the holder

Weeping tree
What haven't you been?
You've cast a shade under for the goats to rest
You've sprouted branches for the birds to roost
The nests that host future generations
Are founded and knitted upon you
You've been shelter to the needy
You've shouldered Mother Nature's mistakes
A bearer of comfort and affection
A groomer of the future
A harbour of hope

Weeping tree
But you've showed to me your other shade
You enticed me with your collectedness
Wooed me with your sentimental stance
And lured me with your sweet reverberations
We closed the distance between us
I found my share of the forever told mystery
Your embrace warm over me
But you got a little more harsh on me
Like the broad wings of an angel
Your branches covered me
You brought me close to your stem, roughly  
Your embrace turned into an engulf
Your pats into slaps
You pressed, you smothered
You let me die inside of you
While I died inside of me
I died
I hope you weep
Weeping tree

Mongi C. Nkabindze

Grey love
 43° 
Tatiana

I'm young and I shouldn't preach
but at least listen to me speak.
I have dreams about
what this world could be.
I have ideas
on how we could be
and to discredit me
based solely on my youth
tells me more about you
than you could ever tell me.
Who silenced you
when you were young?
Who taught you that
the younger generation is dumb?
Who taught you it was okay
to silence those youthful tongues?

Who silenced you
you silencer?

Inexperience is a thing, and i acknowledge that. But don't shut down what a person says just because they're young. Because discussion is also a thing and a much better learning tool than telling people to shut up.
 42° 
Haley
J,

When people ask me about my first love,
I remember the smell of melted crayons.
Not your smile, your golden skin, or the way your face would wrinkle in deep thought.
But about the carelessness of a child in your backseat,
And how with help from the sun,
your car was forever perfumed by a melted, purple Crayola.
I grew to love this scent.
It's an odd thing to even say aloud now.
However, it's permanently imprinted in my mind.
Over summers spent in your car and nights staring into your eyes,
I grew infatuated with this waxy, sweet aroma that filled the air between us.
It became your cologne that stayed with my clothes while you were away,
My comfort when you were near.
It was never sickening or invasive,
But desired and wanted.
So when people ask me about my first love,
I tell them about this boy who always smelled of crayons and how much I miss him.

 42° 
Kiui

staring out the window and noticed my neighbour's lavender bloomed
it's a beautiful day but why am I in my room?
oh it's because my heart is aching as if there's a wound

something is making me feel bitter
trying to write a poem that can express what's the matter
maybe after writing, I'll feel better

but honestly,
I'm just lonely.

 41° 
Pax

Never have i lived to cherish
a bloosoming flower nor
never have i found one
to begin with.

Naver have i been cherished
for people only see my dying
roots nor
never have i reach my full
growth,
i remain the
sapling who have
been judge too
      many to count.

Never have i want to reach
the losing end
a certain limit
So near, i fear.....

a poet for me - are thinker, observer, admirer of beauty, emotionaly smart but most at the time they're sad people looking for  understanding. @pax
 41° 
Blake

i cannot remember
how to forget,
my delicate.

 38° 
Winter Child

the crowd went silent after they asked her
“how much do you love him?”
they were not aware of the question
might as well took it as a joke, but
those words were enough to mute her
as she began to stutter–
her eyeballs shaken
water started to fill up the surface of her white
a smile crept into her lips after the answer left them
“I wished him happiness more than I’ve done to myself”

they would never understand.

 36° 
ace

mediocre and
faded
the average poem
no longer strikes chords
in the heart's harp
use extravagant vocabulary
weave your words tight
until they seem uncomfortable
the original meaning lost
between the claustrophobic corners
covered in lace and pretentious boasting
try but don't try so hard
that no one but the classic readers
would be able to understand
the words you've worked so hard to convey
do not force a poem out
or it will stick your fingers and
it will create a mess
similar to a teenage boy
it will be long and uncomfortable with itself
unknowing of how to adjust
into this thing that is supposed to be
mature now despite wanting to be simple
do not rush poetry
find quiet inspiration
in silent observations
of yourself, of nature
rushing poetry makes it fast
too many unfilled thoughts
racing around in one space
not meeting each other
despite being so close together
tell a story with imagery
with delicate words of morality
tell a story with flashbacks
with soft lips and with stained shirts
tell a story with love
make your poems with care

 35° 
Carl Velasco

Concept:
youlovemeback.

The ingredients of cleanse
make their way
to your house.

There is

a

strobe,
two stones portioned off
a Ziggurat,
a present thing —
like wheels,
a teardrop,
nail clippings.

My father
would trim his nails
and bury them —
as seeds.

Stared
at that pot
all days and evenings.
Monsoons and
summer heat echoed.
Time circled back and forth.

Sometimes,

I would gargle
father’s beer and
spit into the pot.
Maybe it needed
Acrid, it needed
Strong. It needed
Disgusting,
Toxic. It wanted

wrong.

I turn 22.
The pot
Disappears. My father
too. Militants
took him away,
or so the chatter goes.
He wore Chinos, sun-dried
eyes, a hat.
Mice ate
the matchsticks
used for kindling.
The Queen Termite
Gave birth to more
hungry little ones
under the sink.
Dark, musty,
collapsing.
Memory, time,
fingertips. Thyme
rhymes

with mime,

I copy my father.
Trims nails.
Plants.
Waters.

Concept:
trytounderstand

This was only the nourish
he could give. It was
a copy of the nourish
his father could give —
Or so

The chatter goes.

Gather the stones.
Get the strobe.
Pound the nail clippings
and

an enzyme flows
Through, like tape recorders whirring
as they wind back to
play recorded confessions
one more time.

Free baptismals
at the church service
for hurried teens.
Free shirts for
the Insufficient.
Free lessons for
the young boy
who can’t read women.

Free at long, long last.

Concept:
fixtheheart

 34° 
katalyn

I looked at her and it broke my heart to see my lies dripping down her
cheeks

I really am fucked this time around
 34° 
Lily Mae

A year ago today my faith was tested
I gazed upon the face of my sister and yet
cancer distorted the woman I knew

Morphine drops

I go home to shower and my Nephew comes in
"She's gone, we all left the room and she left".
Mourning shoes are put on

Xanax daze


The usual chaos, drama, screaming
yelling and people pissing on space  
once shared by us all ...wanting to covet her  
to our breasts


Hells fire


Closing up my emotional shop  
I move forward this whole year with
a knowing that she for once is flying
high with all our friends and family...

Peace needed


Today I couldn't function well
the tears with memories of her letting go
and me forced to let go overwhelmed me

Absence  

I've never felt so alone sister.  I never  
thought I'd have to live without you
here I am...alone, in body, mind  and spirit

I feel forgotten, you knew me, and still loved me
I feel betrayed, and yet know better
I hate to feel because the hole in my heart
that's been empty since you left me aches


I'm trying sister...I'm trying~

 33° 
Joseph Flores

Memories sweet ~
Salty dreams ~
Aqua-quixotic mind.
The last frontier ~
Summertime.

Girls Gone Crazy.
'In Surf I Trust.'
Bermudas.
Ray-Bans.
Beach or bust.

Abalone divers.
Seaside gusts.
Creamy skies ~
Blood-orange dusk.

Ocean perch.
Cliffside diving.
Crab claw snap!
Child crying.

Nets ascending.
Fish school scatter.
Skipjacks dance.
Whale spray splatters.

Back bay blues ~
Cool to settle.
Boats return to quall.

Couples trek ~
Beyond the dunes.
Where love ~
Is known to fall.

Lights to glow ~
Dim to shining.

Rides and music ~
Boardwalk rising.
Dipped and Battered.
Fresh fish fryin'.

Flashing neon ~
Midway prattle.
"Step right up!"
Razzle-dazzle.

Ring a bottle.
Toss a dime.
"Winner, winner"
Every time!

At once and sudden.
Of my glimpse.

Soft~serve skin.
Perky size.
Corduroy curls.
Topaz eyes.

Monokini ~
Thread bare brief.
Sheer to cover ~
Her coral reef.

Of my ask ~
To my surprise.
She gently scribes ~
867-5309

Forelock flipped ~
Savory smile ~
Lips goodbye.
Kiss implied.

Boardwalk bevy  ~
Slow to nape.
Forth to wander ~
Eveningscape.

Soon as stride.
Off the beaten.

Passed
Sundowners ~
Drunks and croakers ~
Spent syringes.
Late night loafers.

Spiny docks  ~
Cast slanted shadows.
Tiny shanty ~
On the shallows. 

Mild fires.
Silhouette.
Cheap wine fest ~
Opium pow-wow ~
Narcotic luau ~

A smack-fueled~
paradise.

I've gots to go.

Back to camp.
Do-si-do.
Surfside fox-hole.
Jacques Cousteau

Sandy hollow ~
Tide in tow.
Pop tent clears ~
It's ebb and flow.

Starshine.
Stark above.
Abed.
Bedewed.
I shiver below.

Edge of sleep.  
Startled to wake.
Unseen struggle.
Beyond the waves.

From the abyss.
Dark and deep.
Bloodletting cries.
Off the reef.

Death throes.
Flukes lashed.
Until the end ~
Silence.
Soon to pass.

Midnight shore.
Blue whale calf.
Murky shrill.
Orcas make ~
Another kill.

Mist and mizzle.
Sullen much to sleep.
Roaring waves ~
Crash the beach.

Stretched upon ~
Daft and sand.
I toss the night ~
Until ~
The crack of dawn.

Pastel egg ~
In the sky.
Sunny side up ~
The morning rise.

Inspired sight ~
Dawn shine lends.
California coast ~
Never ends.

Sandy ribbons ~
Beach belt bends ~
Emerald coast ~
Santa Ana winds. ~

Wind swept sparkles ~
Main sails sway.
Catamarans ~
Balboa Bay.

Health nuts  ~
Spandex ~
Own the morn.
Cyclists. Runners.
Life reborn.

Bleached blond beatniks ~
Chap-Stick chicks.
Surfers paddle ~
Waves to pick.

Jack not nimble ~
Jack not quick.
Jack wipes-out!
Lickety-Split.

Quilt-patch slum ~
Checkered lots.
Overlap to fill.
A teenaged
Squattersville.

Hawaiian Tropics
Silver Oxide
Pubescent Blanket city.
Proximity
and
Propinquity.

Bohemian families ~
Converge on beach.
Between
the
Pier and jetty.

Mothers chase ~
Big straw hats ~
Rolling off the windy.
Make sandwiches.
and
Serve spaghetti.

Children eat.
Seagulls gather.
Gap-toothed kid. Defends his platter.

Seagull strikes.
A wing is taken ~
To the head.
Spaghetti lost.
But he saves his bread.
Our hero in delight.
Gull soars away.
In flight.

Noontide high ~
Chaise lounge cozy ~
Calls my name.
Toss my pockets.
Drift to sleep.

Snore to spittle.
Drool to wake.
I do wonder.
Was I dreaming?

My summer daze!

Took a paper ~
Tossed of mine.
As unfolded.
It read

867-5309

My summer days!

Wanderlust
Bohemianö
 33° 
Jessy

The day is over.
The sun is setting,
Darkness is coming.

Yellow fades to orange and pink.
The sky turns a light blue,
The day is over.

The moon peeks behind the clouds,
The stars are starting to twinkle.
Darkness is coming.

The sun is leaving,
while the bright blue turns deep.
The day is over.

It slips away,
The light has faded.
Darkness is coming.

Life is the day,
Death is the night.
The day is over.
Darkness is coming.

 32° 
Kmood

I love the feel of my hair
Long and soft
Clean and curling gently.

I recognise my pride.
But find it easy to dismiss.

I feel beautiful when my my hair is newly washed.
Alive, sensuous and wanton.

Drowning myself in its depths.
Imagining him running his fingers through it.
The scent intoxicating us both.

Wanton desire rises......
But there is no 'him'
Just a figment if my imagination.

Will I ever be brave enough?
I hope so.

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