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I carried love like loose change
tucked in the backs of my pocket,
clattering like cheerful tambourines,
evident with every
exuberant swing of my hip
and ready to be given
in the right amounts
with no expectation of anything
extra in return
 Oct 2015 Sombro
Yashri
Time
 Oct 2015 Sombro
Yashri
Why won’t he stay?
Walk, talk, hold each other and be glad
Why do you pass,
Why can’t you stay this way?
&
Be a replay
Of the best moments we’ve ever had

Why can’t you redeem yourself?
It just isn’t fair
You shoot away when I’m smiling
And crawl when I’m in despair

Why can’t you be controlled?
Why aren’t you bound by law?
Bound in chains
and kept on hold
You’re nothing but a system of flaws.

You, a beautiful flashback
Glimpses of bliss like a moonlit kiss
No
You slam me back
To a cold, harsh reality
Which bites, stings
And drives me to insanity

As if i deserve this,
As if you’re that cruel

***** ,back off,
You’re great and all,
But I’m sure you hate this job,

*****, just go,
Just leave me in peace
Just leave me alone



© SHREYA DRISTI
This poem is just a huge metaphorical representation of Time. This is just me expressing my frustrations and hatred towards time. I'm so insanely mad that I've started nagging and scolding Time. I'm ****** that it cannot allow my fantasies and that it cannot consist of only the sweet memories. I'm furious that it cannot be controlled and passes only when I'm having fun.
 Oct 2015 Sombro
Daysha Lancaster
In the middle of the night
Know one in sight
Come with me
Together we be
Silently

You & I
Hearts beat as one
Where alone
For sure we fly
Freely as two doves


Know one can separate
But when time is up
We go our different ways
In a few hours
I will see you again

Huddling closer
Me on your shoulder
Speaking of lovely things
How we hope it to be
Communicating
Then we go to sleep

Hearing him breath
I feel at peace
Don't want anything
But him & me

Knowing its wrong
He is my friend
We're half pretend
Because tomorrow
Act like you do not know me

Starting to love him
Know other man but him
But we are not married
So I say
He is just my friend

One day will come
We both can share
As husband & wife
Know more sin to hide

But for right now
I keep him around
He is my help
My other half
A true friend he is.
 Oct 2015 Sombro
Kripi
From the nation of Greece
With a message of peace
I met a guy
Named  Elisavetio

He makes paintings
With the art in his eyes
And give writings
With the grace in his thoughts

He calls me sis
It's a lovely bliss


With all his pains
He lives courageously
But an accident happens
He gets head injury

I wish I was there
To take his care
But for now
I can do only prayer

Like all pains
It will also have gone
Dear
  
Elisavetio
You are not alone

We are here
To pray for you
And you will be back
I have faith in you


Get well soon
The artist of Greece
You are having
The world's blessings


( Get Well Soon Bhaai )
A fellow poet Elisavetio is in a serious condition. He had an accident 4 days ago and having a brain injury...
He needs our blessings ...please pray for him
 Oct 2015 Sombro
glassea
(there are churches left standing in war zones.)

there are churches left standing in war zones and
they're a symbol
of far-off war-torn places
because destruction is universal.

(blood stains the walls
but they are still holy
and still there.)

there are churches left standing in war zones on
the front page of newspapers,
shouting numbers and figures
but never tragedy.

(there is nothing more powerful
than a bombed-out miracle.)

there are churches left standing in war zones because
soldiers know that in churches
words cut deeper than bullets,
than bayonets,
and the destruction of that power
would be atomic bomb
ground zero
hiroshima nagasaki
hundreds dead and
decades of fallout.

(hospitals and morgues are gone.
the church still stands.)

there are churches left standing in war zones
filled with dust and rubble
and blood and death and dying
and faith screaming for hope
and the church is still standing
but nothing
else
breathes.

(and the church watches war
and she laughs.)
i mean some of these go for all religious edifices but the one you see most often on the news is a church

this was also meant to be read aloud which is why there's not a lot of structure/consistent breaks
 Sep 2015 Sombro
brandon nagley
I want to dance with her upon the universe, as ourn amour' explodeth into;
A million
Star's.....

Thus
Stardust.....




©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl jane nagley dedication (Filipino rose)
 Sep 2015 Sombro
Nilesh Mondal
Our goddess lives under a banyan tree
Deep in the forest. She paints
And sings songs, to put herself to sleep.

2. Royina, your dad paints too.

Tuesday evening, he paints skies
And at the dinner table, you wonder
Why he has blue on his throat.

Wednesday, he paints the sun.
His fingers are red with the flames
He doesn't read letters addressed to him
Because he's afraid
Of burning them black.

Friday, he doesn't paint.
Just sits by the lake, on a secluded bench.
Feeding pigeons. And hearing them coo.

3. Royina, remember the boy who held you
Last time you allowed yourself
To be kissed?

He played a guitar, you told me.
And he had long thin fingers, which fluttered,
From string to string.

He wrote you a letter when you left.
And you folded it eight times. Then put it
In your pocket. Tell me, Royina
Did you put it in your heart too?

4. What is it with creative people, Royina?

The writers and the guitarist and the painters.
Do they look at you like you are the magic you are?  
Do they tell you, no, you're not
Who you think you are.
There are so many shades under your skin
Let me peel off your inhibitions, and I'll show you.

5. Royina, their letters never reach you.

And they wonder why, homes are still called
Addresses.
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