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 Nov 2013 Kellin
Seán Mac Falls
Rain, thumping down,
Pressing grey prints,
Ocean, tears the sky,
Drowning with drinks
Of blue eye and salt
Taste, rude earthling
Song, takes too long.
Must I go on walking,
In gurgle paths spray,
Soaked, silted, ******,
Drabs colours running
In days raging of rain?
 Nov 2013 Kellin
Àŧùl
Hey moonlight move with patience,
My darling doll is now asleep...
Come listen to me - let us talk it over,
Flirt whatsoever to delay the sun..
Though my angel is not so delicate,
But let her catch some sleep pridefully.

Hindi - the original language of my poem.
मेरी परी सो रही है

देख चाँदनी धीरे गुज़रना,
मेरी गुड़िया सो रही है।।।
चल ज़रा बात सुन मेरी,
सूरज को भी ज़रा पटा ले।।
नाज़ुक तो नहीं है मेरी परी,
मगर थोड़ा नाज़ से सो तो ले।
A poem I composed last night thinking of my dear best buddy as she was sleeping.

My HP Poem #495
©Atul Kaushal
The peaches are off their trees,
On the ground and freezing.
Death consumed by life,
To produce again.
It's almost like they live on,
In the little cells of those who eat.

It's almost like that peach is still whole,
Even though it's been eaten and destroyed.
It was once beautiful, and always will be,
And it may even become a tree.
     Again.

If anything survives this winter.
 Nov 2013 Kellin
J Drake
Reality
 Nov 2013 Kellin
J Drake
Nothing you see in this world does exist --
The things that you have and the pain you resist...

It's all an illusion that seems ever real;
A plan your soul made, just part of the deal.

Do not allow this existence to slow you,
Rather, just let it continue to show you...

That you are a light and your spirit, it shines,
Flying and free and never confined.

This world cannot keep you from burning so bright,
The ground cannot hold you when your spirit flies.

So love who you are and forget what is fake,
It's only the LOVE that you later will take.

Nothing else matters, although you do feel,
Like this world, it matters, and surely is real.

I promise you this, and keep it within,
The love is what's real, the rest, it will end.
 Nov 2013 Kellin
William Bednar
Ice
 Nov 2013 Kellin
William Bednar
Ice
The lustre of your silvery eyes
Outshines the winter waters, cold
And has a cool, familiar air
That only snowy blankets hold.
Safe and soothing, blue like ice
That glistens on a glassy lake
In mid-December while at home,
That's showered in white, snowy flakes.

The majesty of winter storms,
The power in the blizzard, white,
Is there, behind those frosty panes
And reveals an inner might.
That cool, familiar, soothing air
That only snowy blankets hold
Is well protected by this gale
When circumstances need you bold.

The powerful, majestic storms,
The blizzards in their wintry might
Are safe and strong, are reassured
By one unfailing, snowy sight.
The mid-December time at home,
The water tucked in glistening flakes,
Reflected in your ice blue eyes
Is soothing, cool, like glassy lakes.
 Nov 2013 Kellin
Liz G
Our First.
 Nov 2013 Kellin
Liz G
It’s 2 am. I glance at you across the room; head against the wall. Staring.
I feel your breath brush past my hair, across my cheek and onto my lips,
I can see the readiness in your eyes, the smoothness of your lips and the beauty of your handsome jaw.
I want to immerse myself in your thoughts and drown my sorrows in your voice and contagious laughter.
But behind your beautiful thoughts and blissful words, I feel the yearning for something more.
Something greater.
And if I could, I would hold you.
And cover you with all the love and happiness I could conjure
Just to show you how truly amazing and deserving you are (of much more than I can provide)
I would kiss you like you’ve never been kissed; till out lips were numb and our hearts could take no more;
Like cars flying down a freeway on a cold winter’s night.
Then:
I’d take you in my arms and kiss you slowly;
Gently,
Sweetly.
With the least effort by our lips and the greatest contact of our souls.
I’m ecstatic but scared.
My heart can’t take it:
The brush of your eyelashes against my cheek;
The whisper of our lips moving in unison;
The thump of your heart, rising against mine.
Your hands meet my neck, slowly move down the curve of my back, reach around my waist, and finally settle to hold my hips;
Pulling me closer.
But it’s more than just physical.
More than emotional.
More than anything I’ve ever felt.
I wonder if you feel it too; if you understand.
And as if to diminish my doubt, you pull away and look into my eyes;
For a brief moment I’m distracted by your beauty but then I notice why you’ve stopped.
A single tear runs down your cheek and instantly I understand.
You do feel it.
You do realize what this means.
We’re in love.
 Nov 2013 Kellin
Seán Mac Falls
Caged hands
Fumble,
Eye teeth, nick
*******,
Toes, tumblers,
Unlocking
Combinations of two,
Nose to ear,
Fingers printing
Smear,
Tongues, tasting
Freedom,
Jailed
In clothing's
Night.
 Nov 2013 Kellin
Seán Mac Falls
.
Birds rush and are busy
Breaking the days, laden
Twigs have broken, landed,
White clouds sail in breeze,
Sun has spilt, over gleamed
Gold on crest fallen, blue mountain,
Leaves lay with browned, under
Grown green matted grasses—
Whispers of spring.
 Nov 2013 Kellin
Seán Mac Falls
I remember that day on Mount Tamalpais.
We picnicked under the loving sky
On Bolinas ridge, atop Wicklow hill,
The maiden’s breast.  We found those apple trees,
Who’d gone wild and fell into their world.
A blossom on the way.

I took your picture and you developed into
A sea-horse, or was it a mermaid?  The ridge
Was foaming about you and birds were swimming
Like fish underneath.  We found a tree, an umbrella
Left at the beach.  The coral-grass became our bed
And wine turned into water.

A spiral dance in arms of anemone, it was
All embrace!  That reef was spawning heaven.
At the treasure chest under the sea maiden,
Like children on highland pap, we played
At the beach that day in a castle above the clouds,
Beneath the wave.
*The name Tamalpais was first recorded in 1845. The meaning of the name is not well-established and there are several versions of the etymology of the name. One version holds that the name comes from ostensibly Coast Miwok words for "coast mountain" (tamal pais). Another holds that it comes from the Spanish Tamal pais, meaning "Tamal country," Tamal being the name that the Spanish missionaries gave to the Coast Miwok peoples. Yet another version holds that the name is the Coast Miwok word for "sleeping maiden" and is taken from a "Legend of the Sleeping Maiden."[13][14][15] However, this legend actually has no basis in Coast Miwok myth and is instead a piece of Victorian-era apocrypha.*
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