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 Jul 2018 Emma K
Surbhi Dadhich
When the clouds clustered over night's chandelier
Wheels of time and whirls of tide
Trampled on my heart out of gears
Trail of time trespassed over drains of havoc memories
Filled with foulness of regrets and summons
My heart was being beaten like hollow drums
Echoes of warm invitations in hell striked the chord
My vessels waterlogged
Narrowedly exploded..
 Jul 2018 Emma K
Elizabethanne
You will say thank you,
for loving me like a prayer.
Because you think the only way-
someone could love you was through divine intervention.
You, a girl who is not quite yet a women.
You still think you can make men out of monsters-
That you only must show love to get it in return.
You have not yet learned
That some monsters
Have given their souls a long time ago.
That the blood that they taste on their tongue
no longer tastes like rust,
It’s what keeps them alive.
And he keeps you because
You liken him to godly-
And he hasn’t felt that kind of reverence in a long time.


- he will will take the innocent you wear like a shield and break it down until there is nothing left, not even him.
 Jul 2018 Emma K
Surbhi Dadhich
Behold boats ashore
Sailors tucking
Amidst tranquility
Unswept nooks prevail
Behold ant's mount
Throned treasurer
Amidst royal urge
Shattered crevices prevail
Behold crowned emperors
Blessed rancid troops
Amidst hordes of entities
Solidarity still prevails
Seems bleak yet blissful
Let bitter truths be sugary loopholes..
 Jul 2018 Emma K
rey
Saxophone Blues
 Jul 2018 Emma K
rey
A young girl—
Out too late—
Running through a quiet urban city
searching for the sounds
That have been playing in her head

The radio gives her no help—
Those songs aren’t what she’s looking for
She craves and older more mature sound
The sound that only the dark night possesses

She can almost feel the sound,
It’s strength is almost feeding into her
She takes the bait
And makes her way to the old pub

She’s amazed by the Saxophone
And the blues lifting the air
She lets them fill her mind
And numb her surroundings

“Oh, sounds, why haven’t we met before?”
She cries out.
But the sounds keep playing
And drowning out her thoughts.
She now knows where she belongs.

© Regan
I said to my grandma “I love those saxophone blues” and this poem came to life.
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