I want to say thank you now
for every poet here
who dares to use their voice
in prose
to face their deepest inner fear

that we alone are not enough when that is just a bald faced lie
cuz we were born just perfectly the truth
and we will be more so when
eventually we die
we just forget this incoveinent truth
because
they
clipped our wings to stop our fly
embedded in deep messages
and told to us as wicked lie
and when I think about this now
it really makes me shrug & sigh
and every now and then ya know
it overwhelms
and then my spirit has enough to  cry

****.
deeper sigh....

I believe,

we hear a voice of broken generations
we hear deep within our mind
and that voice it could be one or many
and man that thing can be so ******* mean unkind
but we can unlearn deprogram change
and what you think inside we'll find?

EVERYTHING.

Ma Cherie © June 2018

I'm sorry I'm away
my minds been in  knot
untie me muse
before I think I die!
I need to write again
in lyrical content
it chokes me up
I think I'll even cry!

Ma Cherie © 2017

.
Tapioca sky,

feel the knife curve
like a Moon-hook,

wrenching a tourmaline ****
into hallucinating gums,

ritualised in immortal agony.


Lemon clouds,

see the portrait smile
like a nightmare,

feasting on famine entrails,
of sacrificed words,

scything off the tongue.



© Pagan Paul (2017)

Odd color
of trifling light
Flitting petal
blue-purple-gray
emerged from asphalt's
heated slumber
to lead some airy way--

The road forgot

Love can be so fleeting
like the brightly shining sun
to leave you feeling sorely burned sometimes
or relieved when days are finally done
times to leave you feeling empty or leave you feeling perfect- full
sometimes love is high so grand
sometimes there is a quiet lull
sometimes it's awful easy true
other times
it's like a stupid an
stubborn bull

either way
- we always seek it
elusive like a distant dream
we chase it an ever wander on
to seek a perfect shining gleem,
like the rays of the sweet
warm sunshine
to finally bask in the
lovely glowing beam

that's what love is I think.

crickets & cicadas
chirp the silence
as good morning
tries to peek
from skies of grey
then all of a sudden
it goes quiet

as if they have
just nothing
left to say
as a breeze comes through
the curtain
an the trees an leaves
softly begin to
dance an sway
clapping for their sweet sunshine
for her love has been so long away
they wish to burn in chlorophyll
soo they need for her to stay
Ma Cherie