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How can you solve the needs of the world
When every window is a mirror
Reflecting only vistas of you.

How can you feel the pain of the hungry
When tail coated waiters serve you your meals
Hundreds of feet higher than the truck on the corner.

How can you embrace the common man
When you consider him covered in germs
Wanting a cheerleader more than a guide.

How will you acquire respect that’s not bought
When you function on a ten year old level
With a Junior High bully as your mentor.
         ljm
 Jan 2017 Nickols
Abdullah Ayyash
Nights are becoming so boring
I hate to write you a sad song
I want to tell you that I hate you
And everything we did was wrong
But the truth is quite the opposite
I’m really lost and for you, I long
My heart has never stopped bleeding
It’s never gonna be that strong
Life is short and becoming shorter
When I once believed that we belong?
© Copyright
Abdullah Ayyash
January 6th, 2017
 Oct 2016 Nickols
The Dedpoet
I guess the spirit never really dies-
Words help me remember
How everything was a rainbow.

And the spectrum -
A variety of freedoms,
A clumsy learning,
A horizon ending with friends,
A stick, a ball, and a soda.

I'd write the summers,
The humidity's tender sweat
Which I guess became a cloud just
For me whose shape would stir
My imagination as the sky fell for me.
I'd write the best of friends
That never turned away adventure,
The forest in our neighborhood
With the wind rippling trees as
Autumnal tenders blew memories
To the future.

I want the words which are forever,
Immortal kids running like flames
Over ripples of time,
Hearts that never aged and innocence
That never failed,
I'd write the poem of a little boy
And candy wrappers surround.

I'm a little boy poet,
I want to write every joy,
Every new sorrow with a veil
Of child like mourning,
To write the light in my eyes
As I saw my first crush,
A fathomless rainbow to remember indeed.

This poem is pointless,
I cannot experience them through
Words,
I think I'll go play with my daughters
And drift away into spectral grace.
 Oct 2016 Nickols
Styles
Touch
 Oct 2016 Nickols
Styles
Soft are the hands;
   blessed with ill-intent,
   as they touch your skin.
   they dissolve you,
   and melt your flesh.
   quivering with anticipation,
   my lips take your breath.
   climbing under your surface,
   and taking everything else.
 Oct 2016 Nickols
Styles
Untitled
 Oct 2016 Nickols
Styles
I don't want soft
I want it rough
crossing the line
going deeper than deep enough
make your heart speed up
beating against your chest
the pace racing as we speed up
our bodies kneading each other
the way we need us
pictures speak a thousand words less than touch
feeling what you are feeling I can never get enough
addicted to the addiction of wanting your body so much
take my time enjoying the moment as we chase the rush
 Sep 2016 Nickols
Styles
Inked.
 Sep 2016 Nickols
Styles
Taught to never
judge a book by its cover
I rather savor each chapter
then reminisce about after
my eyes memorized by your lines
a craft at which you master
my lips reading your text
as my mind visualize
your body language
embodied by mine
the strength it symbolize
leaving us naturally inclined
for a pleasure that is divine
I can read the signs
imagery seducing my mind
 Jul 2016 Nickols
Evelyn Culwch
O husband, behold the marks that mar your handsome face!
The angry red where poison left its sting,
Where my arms trembled.
Where I failed to save you,
If ever you were mine to save.

O husband, remember when your eyes first met mine!
We were so young,
When we married beneath the world tree.
When we danced among cowslips and primroses,
Like life would always be dancing.

O husband, think fondly on the first child!
Meant to be a great warrior,
Born as night broke into dawn.
Born a prince who would never be king,
By no fault of his own doing.

O husband, think too on the second son!
The magician and scholar,
Gentle in thought and action.
Gentle in word and deed,
That innocent youth.

O husband, cry for that betrayal!
The punishment passed down
By highest authority and greatest king.
By queen who shared my lineage,
Who in punishing you punished us all.

O husband, forgive my tears!
Those that drip down my face,
Landing on our dirtied robes.
Landing on your ashen skin,
As cooling as the poison is hot.

O husband, my strength grows weak!
She the always faithful,
My arms burn with the weight of two small corpses.
My arms sing with the agony of venom,
Fingers trembling where they grasp the golden bowl.

But O husband, I shall never leave!
Faith unwavering I sit by the eternal flame,
My husband the Silvertongue whose voice has long gone out.
My husband the Sky Traveler, who now lays bound to the earth,
I shall hold the bowl unto eternity.

O husband, behold the marks that mar that handsome face!
The angry red where poison left its sting,
Where it is soothed by the tears from mine own cheeks.
Where I failed to save you,
If ever you were mine to save.
 Jul 2016 Nickols
Homunculus
Freedom is a gift and curse,
When time is finite and eludes,
It leaves us many wounds to nurse

With every choice that life exudes,
Affirming one, we must deny,
The others we may have pursued

While pondering the reasons why,
We're here at all, and what it means,
With knowledge that we'll one day die

This life is wondrous, yet obscene,
         Both terrifying, and serene.
The terza rima scheme was pioneered by Dante in his Divine Comedy. As you can see, the scheme works in tercets where the second line provides the rhyme for the first and third lines of the following stanza. I'm just getting my feet wet with this style, and this poem is more of an exercise. It's a tricky rhyme scheme, but I think if I spend enough time with it, I'll get it down.
 Aug 2015 Nickols
Ana Sweeney
Just remember,
that to get a silver lining,
you must have a cloud.
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