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first contact scenario
close encounters of the third kind
well how many
kinds are there anyway

a peaceful delegation
or an alien invasion

because alien we are
under threat of war

your burning desires
my best intentions
a clash
of unspeakable dimensions

this is not a game
we are
one misinterpretation
away
from mutual annihilation

you’d better tread lightly
I know I will
  Jun 2017 Elizabeth Squires
Eleni
The only place we could be alone was by the brook.

Beside an oak tree
You and I lay, enveloped.

It makes me feel odd that
We were once shy.

There was a flute playing a blissful melody in the distance, lulling us to sleep.

It was a Celtic fantasy. Blushed cheeks, entrancing mandolins, serene violins.

You whispered delicately in my ear:
'Forget everything. Enjoy now.'

But how can I forget and enjoy now, when I am alone, my tears rusting my guitar strings.

That girl you once layed with by the brook is shattering...

Deep
  Blue
    Nothing
        Left
               Inside
                        Here
                                Now­
                                  Pointless
                    ­       Effort
            Redundant
       Love
    Obsolete
           Maiden
                   Glass
                       Broken
                            Severed
                      ­               Heart.

Farewell to light and all things bright.
  Jun 2017 Elizabeth Squires
Pagan Paul
.
'No man is an Island'
Maybe not true my Dear friends.
Perchance in general, contact is good.
But take a good look.
There are many Islands in the emotional ocean
with closed harbours and sealed ports.
Refugees of romance; Tortured traumas;
Insane individuals; Mental mercenaries;
Each one a lonely star,
a pinprick of light, disconnected,
on a girdle of the sky,
protected by a carapace of experience,
cold, distant, drifting further from the source,
in a race for consolidation and annihilation.
Islands of safety become Isles of danger.
Selfishness; Self-hate;
Self-perpetuating; Self Destruct;
The inward circle and downward spiral
cloaking the Island, shielding its existence,
shunning the continents of integration.
So can it be true my Dear friends,
no man is an Island?


© Pagan Paul (28/06/17)
.
I wish I could remember how to swim! PPx
.
Whisky, “The Water of Life”,
******* burning all down my chest.
Opening up my mind to endless imaginations
So I can put the world to rights
Like Superman in his pomp.

Feel that glow,
Spreading like a forest fire.
Feelgood Factor
Fathomless in its depth.

Who cares what peat, in what glens
Or valleys it came from.
Or what precipitation
Bathed those golden barley ears
On Celtic hillsides.

I’ll drink any Whisky,
Single or blend
White oak cask or not.
So long as it gives me that buzz
And blows my mind.
Inspiring the best
Or worst
In me.

Paul Butters
One of my favourite tipples.
  Jun 2017 Elizabeth Squires
Semihten5
who kept you falling
what  you do not remember now

why will not the trail from yesterday
when will they realize
are they waiting for unknown

half-life
will regrets end
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