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When you pinned the daisy to my lapel
you said 'that is where the fairies dwell',
and this special gift from you to me
was because you loved me beautifully.



© Pagan Paul (03/01/18)
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 Jan 2018 Lynette Warren
ryn
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A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It's the tears that trickle with radiance through words.
     It's a treasure trove that hides but longs to
     be found.
          It's a book shelved high that wants to
          be read.
               It's the freest of all birds caged but
               unbound...

A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It doesn't beat to the capable strokes of the artist.
     It doesn't pump in the most vibrant of
     colours.
          It doesn't wield a paintbrush to
          translate its thoughts.
               But it can see through the eyes of
               painters...

A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It doesn't conform to the conventional parameters of lyrics.
     It doesn't bind itself to the requirements
     of musical harmony.
          It doesn't follow the conventions of
          genres.
               But it sings its voice loud without
               restrictions of melody...

A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It's an open secret, that whispers in metaphoric codes.
     It's an exploding universe, that merges
     back into galaxies.
          It's a sought after painting, that boasts
          of unfathomable beauty.
               It's an everlasting song, that echoes
               within the poet that embodies...
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Dedicated to all of you...

If you're reading this...
This is for you...
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What if life was played in fast forward?
Would you look more, out the window?
See the buildings, the missing trees?
The colors changed, painted in steel?
Focus on folds, beneath your cheeks?
Spend time with the once, called lonely?

What if life was played in reverse?
Would you redo things, differently?
Experience reality?
Change your lack of identity?
Free your mind of not feeling free?
Rethink responsibilities?

What if life was paused?
Would you be doing, what you are doing right now?
What is the first thing that comes to mind?
What about the colors on your brush?
Do you think that they are enough?
Are you still on the right track?

What if life had to be lonely?
Would you use your voice to speak?
Is there a reason to listen?
What rules would you want to create?
Would you understand heartbreak?
Would you bother to hit replay?

Either way we all reach the end.
But we write separate screenplays.
Decide our fate and how we blend.
And how we fast forward our days.

Hopefully we are not the same.
Get to use our voice and listen.
To lose ourselves would be a shame.
Or to move forward, not driven.

Remember, your life is in play.
And should not be thrown away.
It flies amongst the stars.
Flashes for a moment.
Despite the left scars.
Holds a place close, yet far.

It carries the fallen.
From mistaken paths.
To reaches impossible.
And develops new plans.

It creates new countries.
Raises dead soldiers.
Stamps unsung heroes.
With a feeling of free.

Hear its silent sound.
Open up your eyes.
Place it in your heart.
Elevate from the ground.

It helps us climb.
Better than rope.
Do you see its shape?
It is hope.
 Jan 2018 Lynette Warren
Matt
Remain Composed
Do not become angry
In most all situations this is sound advice

For things are often not as bad as they seem
Just let the anger pass

Thank you Seneca
For your words of wisdom
The clouds that gathered turned to rain
The candles on your sill burned out
The weather on your face
Turned to match the mood outside

Reading through poems that you saved
That make the gloomy hours make sense
Or do they lose their power
With the yellowing of age

I saw you suffering
Through a foggy window in the rain
When you thought no one was watching, yeah
Going through your memories
Like so many prisons to escape
And become someone else
With another face
And another name
No more suffering

You sold the best of yourself out
On a chain of gray and white lies
One syllable at a time
You should have made them pay
A higher price

I saw you suffering
Through the cracked and ***** window pane
I was ashamed that I was watching, yeah
Going through your imagination
Looking for a life you could create
And become somebody else, yeah
With another face
With another name
No more suffering

I wish that I could find a seed
And plant a tree that grows so high
So that I could climb
And harvest the ripe stars
For you and I to drink
And spit the ashes from our mouths
And put the gray back in the clouds
And send them packing with our bags
Of old regrets and sorrows
'Cause they don't do a thing but drag us down
So far down
The past is like a braided rope
Each moment tightly coiled inside

I saw you suffering
Through the yellow window of a train
With everybody watching, yeah
Too tired for imagining
That you could ever love somebody else
From somewhere far away
From another time
And another place
With another life
And another face
And another name
And another name
No more suffering
RIP Chris Cornell... Love You & your poetry lyrics
I loved you in the morning, our kisses deep and warm,
your hair upon the pillow like a sleepy golden storm,
yes, many loved before us, I know that we are not new,
in city and in forest they smiled like me and you,
but now it's come to distances and both of us must try,
your eyes are soft with sorrow,
Hey, that's no way to say goodbye.
I'm not looking for another as I wander in my time,
walk me to the corner, our steps will always rhyme
you know my love goes with you as your love stays with me,
it's just the way it changes, like the shoreline and the sea,

but let's not talk of love or chains and things we can't
untie,
your eyes are soft with sorrow,
Hey, that's no way to say goodbye.
I loved you in the morning, our kisses deep and warm,
your hair upon the pillow like a sleepy golden storm,
yes many loved before us, I know that we are not new,
in city and in forest they smiled like me and you,
but let's not talk of love or chains and things we can't
untie,
your eyes are soft with sorrow,
Hey, that's no way to say goodbye.
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