Jun 17 Mack

Rippling water

it eases its way
  across the lake

Such a gentle gesture

I wish for the
  waves of harshness

that crash against me

to wash away ..

to transform
  from waves of destruction





  Jun 17 Mack


She loved a poet
who loved to write,
about her.

He scribbled,
took notes,
created stanzas
and perfected poems,
about her.

He wrote
about her sorrowful eyes
the way the moon
lit up the darkness
within her,
the way her hair
curled lovingly around his fingers
as if it was meant to be.

He wrote about the angle of her curvy hips
sloping gently from her waist,
the perfect fit for his hands.

He continued to write
during the days
her tears began to fall,
even as she left
for the last time.
He, sadly,
let her slip through his fingers
and continued to write.


  Jun 17 Mack


I felt such a wrenching pain
leaving you behind

How can someone die slowly inside
but go on living anyway?

The ache and torturous
tearing of my heart
deepened at the thought of you alone

Tiny traces of tears
still trapped between my lashes
mirror your face, your eyes
and reflected my bleeding heart


Written over a year ago but not posted.
  Jun 16 Mack
Crazy Diamond Kristy

Words are a whore,
flirting for attention.
Fashioning, a chore.
Some lack in dimension
and are quite a bore.
While others,
at only a mere mention,
seemingly soar
with or without intention.
Speak words like a lion:
making meaning


This is a revision to a poem I posted recently and then took down. I hope this one is better received. Just for fun! Thanks for reading! K:)
  Jun 15 Mack

That one cold day
You were gone
Oh how I longed
To be wrong
That you could
Never return
All those bridges

If like you
I could
Walk away
Save my love
For another day
In the silence
Of forgetfulness
Sudden darkness
Flip a switch
No dread lingering
No emo unrest
Just rap it up
I've done my best

Then I would be
Broken too
Breaking all
The golden rules

Traveler Tim
  Jun 15 Mack
Crazy Diamond Kristy

Lucid thoughts lay linger.
Harks, the restless angels
in my sleepy chorus.
Pendulum heart strings,
by distant moonbeams,
reverberate drum beats.
Rhythm like a sweet murmur,
swaying in a universal swing.
Singing my soul,
perchance to sleep,
drowning day's solitude,
so deep,
in a sea of dreamy retreat,
a melodious harmony,
lulling souls to meet

6-13-17 (C)

Thanks for reading! K:)
  Jun 15 Mack
Lady RF

A little more than misunderstood
For the most-part
Of her life,

A magnet
For destruction,
Was all sorts of strife.

Made of best intentions,
A valuable, fine jewel;
Priceless and rare,

Kindness was the fluid
running through her veins;
Her heart was only capable
Of empathising,
It couldn't help
But to care.

A wounded healer,
Strong enough to know
That her pain was never in vain,

Her experiences came with lessons,
A gift she offered with pride,
Not with shame.

There weren't many
Trials or tribulations
that she didn't overcome,

She was always
A little miss understood,
A little warrior,
A champion,
Second to none!

In all of her downfalls
She was still ever grateful,
Never was she guilty
Of being unappreciative
Or resentful, whilst in pain,

As hard as it ever got,
She didn't stop to count
The numerous falls,
Or blows that she received;
She just kept on getting up
And again,
And again.

By Lady R.F. (C)2017

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