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  Feb 2015 NuurSeraph
wordvango
when the trees call staring down
       ask me what reason I am
walking alone among the pine cones
         dead brown
oak leaves laid about
          barefoot walk a path
that no one ever takes
          I go on walking listening
to them the trees
          they are older and strong
stronger than the asphalt
            where I have to shoe myself
to walk on
            going and listening
to nothing but cars
          loud shrieking brakes
and crashing
         I answer by walking right up to that tree
and kissing her or him
      hard to tell with a tree
right on its bark,
          sit near her or him and whisper
back,
          my reason should be clear
to one older and stronger.
  Feb 2015 NuurSeraph
GitacharYa VedaLa
P** owerful
O nslaught of
E motions with a (rhyming)
M eter
NuurSeraph Feb 2015
We are the Children of the Sun,
Sister to Moon,
unyielding to none

Rushing gracefully to outrun
the warring tug of our orbit
brutish and unrelenting
naught to be forsaken

We are tokens of synergy
an Ocean of Energy
flaring flames of Inferno
waiting, imminently
we promenade 'cross spaceous sea
to engulf the fragile faun in flight
Hell hath no other to share this night

We are the dark and undetected
electrically affected
magnetic resonance of the One.

*~ forever we will be the Children of the Sun ~
A poem about cosmic radiation and other space things that go bump in the night sky
  Feb 2015 NuurSeraph
Onoma
Of lavender, golden meshes--discerning
Goddess gargantua.
Lamp of fig tree and Roman chorus...waves crest
in a moonlit white as to knit the sultry
gown of your being.
Never once did you recant the definitions of love
and beauty, they stay and fever...dally the same
breath to deliver.
Here and there, wedged in towering hearts
they sway and splay forked flames.
You are signaled blatantly, and in
secret as holds the tolerance of those
you madden.
Venus...crash landing, riveted Xs cringe
and ripple in anticipation--marked and
moving, your children pass the ardent
thorns of beauty...clump, swell and
spill ****** roses.
You'll always seem uncollected, unstable--
your constitution's chasmic rift
claims...those you've landed upon.
They mouth love and beauty, wound and
bisected, their livelong day thrashes
to unify that breath...just to
sigh as if to say they see you.
  Feb 2015 NuurSeraph
Kelly Rose
Another sleepless night
3am, a bit beyond
the witching hour

A time of quiet reflection
Remembering dreams lost
& Creating dreams to be

Thinking of past sorrows
Anticipating tomorrow's
Joys

Another sleepless night

Contemplating Life's mystery
And
Marveling at the
Wonder of it all...
2/8/2015
KetomaRose
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