they say *"home is wherever I am
with you"*
"home" is a building on a street that shelters you
but home is the planet we step on
our home is losing parts of itself that it will never get back
our home is sick
it's under the weather with climate change, global warming, air pollution
today, we appreciate our world
everyday, we should appreciate our world
save your home,
save our home.
Apr 23, 2015
Apr 23, 2015 at 10:35 PM UTC
Rainbows cross the silent sun,
The full moon lingers on the horizon still,
The comet has come.
The Earth stands still,
A cosmic event unfolds,
The winds are silent now,
The Earth beholds us here,
Wondering what it is we are doing.
The last woman standing
sinks to her knees,
Her tears to the soil falls,
A flowering life unfolds,
Ancient cycles perish,
New intelligence begins,
We behold what we have wrought
and
What we can create.
A cloud forms into a giant question mark
across the vast skyway,
Eyes seek answers
undefined,
Time stands still
we still don't know why.
As a chorus
we all sing our song
love emerges
in a single sound
stillness echoes
peace is finally found.
Apr 23, 2015
Apr 23, 2015 at 10:34 PM UTC
"what do you want?"
A meaningless question
with doubtful answers.
"What do you want?"
I want to walk outside without
having to feel worthless.
I want to be able to be taken seriously,
despite my taste in fashion or body modifications.
I want to be able to love someone and not
hide my passion because you wouldn't approve.
What I want is to be accepted for me,
nothing more and nothing less.
Just me.
Apr 19, 2015
Apr 19, 2015 at 1:23 PM UTC
I have seen Death
And he isn't a bone-white, saggy old man
Or a dark hood with a cape
And a vile, gleaming sickle.
No, Death is much different
Than the stories of horror
Painted in humanity.
Death has a sweet face
And soft, warm hands.
He holds you while you're weeping
And takes all your sorrows
With a sweep of his arm,
The twitch of his brow.
He catches the hearts of teenagers
With flowers splattered on their skin
And fire in their fingers;
Itching and uncomfortable on their own home.
He pulls away the chains
In the young's unspoken minds.
As they fly through the air
Out their Peter Pan windows
He is right there beside them,
And the bitter taste of pills
Is masked by his lips.
You see, Death is so attractive
With foggy fingertips on hearts,
The young and the lonely
Jump into his arms,
Make split-decisions in his smile
While he just tries
To soften the blow.
Apr 19, 2015
Apr 19, 2015 at 1:21 PM UTC
Your lips.
Your eyes.
Your body.
Your sighs.
Your breath.
My mouth.
My neck.
My thighs.
My head.
My heart.
You’re gone.
Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 2:11 PM UTC
it is a gift, the friend ship, the kiss
on each cheek with out avoidance.
it may seem continental, yet we are
dolgellau. it is a meeting place, yes,
near the church. there are similarities,
yet this is not a metaphor.
we met at ten, talked of family,
one hour led to two, and overstepped
the parking time.
later in the garden, i thought of you.
i cut the paths and thought of you too.
it is a gift.
sbm.
Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 12:37 AM UTC
Broken recognizes broken.
Two broken souls will find each other,
and hang on for life.
If broken recognizes broken
and I am alone,
am I really broken
or,
have I just not found
someone as broken as me yet?
Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 12:36 AM UTC
I caught her eye from across the dim lit room,
as she sang on the small stage.
Her voice was like a Whistling Thrush
and it stole my breath.
She smiled at me
and never before had I seen such beauty.
She made me weak in the places I once felt strong.
Her voice,
her bright eyes,
and her coquettish smile,
they made me feel vulnerable,
but I did not care.
I was captured by her inexorable splendour,
and she imbued my love, fiercely.
I knew I had to speak to her,
to tell her how wonderful she was,
and how incredible she made me feel.
As she finished her song,
and skipped down from the stage,
I watched, painfully as she fell into the arms of another man.
He did not look at her the way I did,
nor would he ever.
Though sometimes, our greatest love,
will never know who we are.
Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 12:36 AM UTC