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  Sep 2016 Illya Oz
South by Southwest
Yellow , glowing
Softness , soothing
There . . . never a sound

Somewhere between
A cloud and ground
Between lips and thought

Somewhere , where there is a nowhere
Somehow when we don't know-how
Somewhat of an after thought

As silently as a whisper
From an owl
In the darkest reaches

Of loneliness hidden in the
Corners of sorrow
Hide tiny tears

Painful tears
Too small to see streaks
Upon those cheeks

The cloud is all fluff
Vapor and dust
Come cloud my memories away
  Sep 2016 Illya Oz
wordvango
some believe in the deity
others in the sanctity of self
I think poetry is a religion
a soul unto itself
not a god
but close
and I seek her his its
calming words
wisdom
to get on my knees
and worship
every night
alone
here
in my sanctuary
like any
true believer
  Sep 2016 Illya Oz
PaperclipPoems
I just want to say thank you to everyone who has reached out and congratulated me on my poem and the ones who have written such heartfelt comments. I truly do appreciate each single one of you. Keep writing friends! :)
  Sep 2016 Illya Oz
Little Bear
All I ask
When you
Leave
Is
Just
One thing..

Just
One thing
For me..
Please?

In your story
Please be
Happy
Make every
day
A
New page

Write yourself
As the hero
And everyday
Save your
Princess

And in
Each and every
Chapter
Fight for what
You know
Is right

And..

I love you..

So for me

Please..

All I ask
Is that
You
Make your
Story
Epic
Happy endings start with silver linings. I promise, you will find one. Xoreox
Illya Oz Sep 2016
Why does your nose 'run' and your feet 'smell'?
Why do we call a building, a 'building' if it's already been built?
Why is it called a TV 'set' when you only get one?
And why does an alarm clock 'go off' when it starts ringing?

Why is it called a 'near miss' when you don't hit something?
Why does 'cleave' mean both to split apart and to stick together?
Why call it 'taking' a dump, when you leave something behind?
And if a 'vegetable' goes into a coma, is it called a person?
English is weird :)
Illya Oz Sep 2016
The red balloon flies up
into the endless blue sky
Out of reach of the little boys
small frail hands
He cries for the loss
of his precious friend
His mother sighs
and tells her son
'You should have held on tighter'
When I was little my dad use to read me this story called 'The Red Balloon' about a boy called Pascal who found a magic balloon that became his friend and followed him around. In the book it was like everyone was trying to take the balloon away from him and in the end the balloon was popped by some bullies when it was trying to protect Pascal, which always made me sad, but then lots of balloons came and carried Pascal off into the sky. I still really love that book, though I think it may have been a movie first.
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