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 Nov 2017 Kellin
S Olson
We are elaborate animals made of wood
earth, flowing like water into the veins
of the sky.

The sun being a fist of lava, and the night
being an enticing molar—we are
a succession of tides, being swallowed
by successions of day; and how beautifully
we wilt in the presence of joy.

The moon may be nothing
but a luminous
stone

and to eat the poetry of it
is how one chokes
on love

but the romance of morning
is that if by midnight
you are alive, that is joy.
 Nov 2017 Kellin
RiBa
The virginal moon shines
Amidst the diaphanous clouds
Like an ageless nymph
She hides from her lover

The gentle waves ripple endlessly
A hypnotic song they sing
Myriad shadows in her *****
And the Ganga flows on her way

On his tiny boat
A little lantern burns the night
The lonely boatman
Sings in the lonely night

A song of pain and longing
Of a child pining for his lost mother
And the Gentle Ganga
She cries!
 Oct 2017 Kellin
A Thomas Hawkins
Never fall in love with a poet
for their words are sometimes lies
on occasions they're a shield
on occasions a disguise

They will take you on a journey
upon which they bare their soul
in a bid to ease your burdens
in a bid to make you whole

But in every word they choose
for the stories that they tell
lies a little piece of heaven
and a little piece of hell

Tormented souls we poets are
sometimes quite broken and despaired
in search of lost expressions
missed by others who once cared

Never fall in love with a poet
unless you're prepared to share their pain
to hold them close on the darkest nights
over and again
Follow me on Twitter @athomashawkins
http://twitter.com/athomashawkins
 Oct 2017 Kellin
Seán Mac Falls
.
We made love as strangers—
Do when they eye each other
Separately intimate in a rush,
Our bed was a rack we made
Tortuous and flesh— revealed                                                         ­
As it gave into itself, the moon
Conspired in our dominations,
As we suffocated in the breaths,
Way down sips, of earthy heavens.
.
 Oct 2017 Kellin
Àŧùl
A Sin?
 Oct 2017 Kellin
Àŧùl
If loving you completely,
As I found myself in you,
Could be termed as a sin,
Seen through spirituality,
Then I don't mind my life's sin,
And I'll proudly carry the guilt,
As I have you as my happiest gift.
My HP Poem #1673
©Atul Kaushal
 Oct 2017 Kellin
Seán Mac Falls
.
1
Wet welling from earth
Deep valleys, hills, sweating *******
I plung into her


2
We are lost at sea
In moonless night our soft cries
Curled waves drowning us


3
Above her in bed
Little breaths lifting our bodies
Eyes, fingers, dreaming


4
Her green eyes are set
Jewels from sargasso seas
My ghost ship is wrecked


5
Her long hair tangles
No struggle in rising— then
We are rapt in bed


6
Her eyes blinding me
Milky way of her body
There is a heaven


7
In forest we taste
Each other in evergreens
Hot dews on the moss


8
Blissful time kissing
My bare thighs sink into hers
Running sands so quick


9
As olive or grape
So shed, paired souls are threshed
Out of their bodies


10
Hummingbirds share truths
Nature sounds with all sweetness
Bee in the flower


11
Always in a field
Wild flowers— a bunch to pick
Herself a bouquet


12
In the park we walk
Flocks of white birds taking flight
Two hearts light as air


13
We kissed under moon
Pox of stars grew flowering
Nightshade of her lips


14
She took me to bed
Skinned in bliss— was reborn, lost
In her satin folds

.
 Oct 2017 Kellin
Seán Mac Falls
.
Her languid voice
Drew me in, drooped,
And tentacle hair wrapping,
My feet fell before hers,
Sinking in the faraway lost pool,
The mortality in the sands,
And even the stars, snuffed
Out of darkness and fire
Became the light of the world,
The hushed day breaking
With welling waters and salt.
How can dream be lived,
Within dream?  Must I swear
As I fall into bliss?
chilled sheets touch white skin
inner turmoil leaks out
staining cold with fear

washing machines can't
remove the stains of the past
but they can sure try

stains tell the story
of each person's midnight horrors
who says where stains lie?

splattered across sheets
are the stains of my nightmares
strange; they look like tears

who am I kidding?
one night I will cry non-stop
and it will be good

tonight's are good tears
I am so happy to weep
they don't look like stains

my sheets are pretty
scattered patterns lie
they are beautiful

no more stains for me
I see them as beauty marks
on my sleep canvas
this is not about denial; it's about overcoming the stigma of mental illness and convincing yourself that you can get better if you want to. It's deciding that mental illness is a part of you, but doesn't define you.
 Oct 2017 Kellin
Laniatus
Haikus
 Oct 2017 Kellin
Laniatus
Eyes hidden in words
Derogatory
Death is the outcome.
      .......................

Watch my expression
Suicide eyes
The rope is too thin.
      ........................

And every little word
Delves deep inside
I feel everyone.
     ........................

I deserve flowers and wine
Tiny thoughts
And gentle hymns.
    ..........................

I'm sad and unhappy
I know why
People are everywhere.
    ..........................
 Oct 2017 Kellin
Sally A Bayan
Wind blows...trees quiver
Dry leaves disconnect...fall, and
Fly by the window

Some cling to the glass
Some get blown farther away
Ground is wet, but brown

Fine shower falls on
Coffee with RumChata waits
It's cold at the porch...


Sally


Copyright November 29, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
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