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  Sep 2018 Mariam
Mike Hauser
Cherish the time
Set it to memory
Burn it into your soul
For it soon will be gone
As these sands of time
Pour out so quickly
Faster than we know
Leaving a hole
We're all waiting in line
With father times keeping
Life's ladder folds
At its choice of footholds
Cherish the time
Celebrate it freely
Ready, set, go
We're all going home
  Sep 2018 Mariam
Born
_
The elite English language
Written or spoken
Sometimes imagined or painted
Cannot fully explain the depth
of a broken heart
  Sep 2018 Mariam
Orange Rose
I wrote a poem when I died...
Another at my birth.
A brand-new sonnet when I cried.
And again when there was mirth.

A song for my confession...
A story for my pain...
A painting for depression...
And nursery rhymes for rain.

My creations live inside my heart.
I keep them there in shame.
Yet you looked around and saw my art,
And smiled all the same.
  Sep 2018 Mariam
emnabee
The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.
A little escape from the madness.
Or maybe, into.
  Aug 2018 Mariam
Pagan Paul
.


The table lamp

The single book of verse.

The ornament standing alone.

The photo in an unforgiving frame.

Or just
the dust


gathering comfort
in a bitter room.





© Pagan Paul (2016/17/18)
.
Old Poem
Shaped to look like a table lamp.
.
  Aug 2018 Mariam
Thomas P Owens Sr
and it will be late December
in the glow of the 25th
in the shadow of a new year
when the aligning takes place
one chilly night
the domino falls
and in the flutter of a hummingbird wing
we shall be no more
and somewhere
on some faraway land
one will be watching
20 million years from 2012
on a chilly December night
and catch the final blink
of a distant star
07/10/2007
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