AP: Favorites

Apr 2015 AP

CA Guilfoyle

It was shallow water, rippling
a watery moon quivering
on the surface seen
It was night fire
burning water into steam
gray smoke screened
It was willful drowning
upon a lily bed of lies
parched a wilted garden
slowly withers, dies

To all who stop by here to read this poem and to those who have left comments, I thank you for your every kindness.
XO

Apr 2015 AP

Wind and Warmth in Wood

Apr 2015 AP

SG Holter

Wind and Warmth in Wood

Outside night time winds
In birch monuments
And inside fire in
Its place

To their sounds
I doze and
Drift
Away

Apr 2015 AP

Sophia

Apr 2015 AP

Dawn King

Sophia

it was on a hill of a clever neighborhood
the errant flow well guised beneath the clay
upon reach of the summit
she is all that can be held
her pull far too magnetic
her skin, akin to milk poured by Luna
her hair is the black of midnight
on the eve of the new moon
she sits facing inquiry with her injured one facing her
on a rounded copper colored chair
placed curbside
Sophia speaks then
a monotone misgiving
that pours out
as a sly pompous
indifference

Apr 2015 AP

21 Eternally

Apr 2015 AP

River

21 Eternally

I want to be 21 eternally
Why must youth disintegrate?
I want vitality as my lifetime warranty

Is a physical body mandatory for existence
Or is our body just the hardware and
Our soul is the software
I've disposed of fickle involvements
So why can I not possess unlimited knowledge about the Universe
Colloquial chatter among the subservient is prose
Whereas the secrets of the universe
Are akin to poetic verse

Is it truly a desirable thing to be a Tuck Everlasting?
I am just aware that I need a lot more time for everything I want to do in life
That I preferably wish to fulfill in my youth
But not everything is ideal, is it?
21 will soon be gone in not very long, and a decade will be blown away with something as weak as a breeze
Adulthood has stretched out it's grey and leathery hands and is trying to pull me under it's hold
But I push away with all of my youthful strength
For I refuse to grow old in my soul
Diagnosis: Peter Pan syndrome
Take me to never-land
Where all unfinished plans will have a place to take seed and grow.

Apr 2015 AP

Shakespearean Sonnet emulation

Apr 2015 AP

SummertimeLace

Shakespearean Sonnet emulation

Shall I compare thee to a winter’s day?
Thou art more cold and more desolate
Icicles **** springs bountiful bouquet
While winter delivers life a foul fate

Sometimes only by fluke warmth will wave by
And often melts the bitter cold away
And every snowflake that falls will melt; die
Either now or sometime far it will lay

But your never ending frost shall not fade
Nor ever lose the stone heart in your chest
Nor shall your ignorant soul accept aid
When your bigot mind never sees what’s best

So long as winter is harsh and clear to see
This will remind of the coldness in thee

Apr 2015 AP

AD

Apr 2015 AP

S

AD

Her face was eye catching,
A round face smiling at him.
Her lips curved beautifully,
Like arched bows aimed to release,
But he couldn't help but wonder where he'd seen her before.

For he knew that smile,
He did,
He knew he'd seen her before,
Somewhere,
Somehow.

It was Elena

The love of his life,
His soulmate.
His Pretty Woman, Sabrina and Allie.
A woman who surpassed both Athena and Scheherazade in wit and beauty.

He flashed a smile.

Her face was eye catching,
A round face smiling at him.
Her lips curved beautifully,
Like arched bows aimed to release,
But he couldn't help but wonder where he'd seen her before.

He just couldn't remember.

I'm working with Alzheimer's disease and it's heartbreaking to see people in love not connect. It's frustrating for both sides of people and it's absolutely heartwrenching.

#love #loss #memory #alzheimers #disease

Apr 2015 AP

This is not a poem

Apr 2015 AP

Kaylee

This is not a poem

There is a demon inside my ear
Whispering lies
I don't want to hear
Trying to help you understand
is the equivalent to reaching
into the dark
Only being able to grab air
Something invisible chases me
In my dreams
Something evil and hateful
I believe it is my suffering.
The grief of my experiences
that I subconsciously hold on to
You held me as it chased me
I screamed for help
Your arms
brought me back home to you
I ran my fingers
through your hair
over and over
Trying to soothe myself
I've never lost myself like that before

This is a not a poem
This is a confession

I am being consumed

#depression