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 Feb 2018 Seema
Prabhu Iyer
Conches and cymbals rend the air peering
into the mists of time vast like the snow-
clad peak, ancient that shines in the cells as
in the stars, matted whose locks gather the
sky-river in their folds, bearing the moon-
shell on his brow, merged in etherial that
datum where shine neither the moon nor stars
still like heavens that serpents slither lone
the one beyond all dual, red-hued like
the glacier anointed nigh at dusk
the 1st stanza of the 1st poem 'Shiva' in my now poetry project 'Sati' - this one is set to Iambic pentameter
 Feb 2018 Seema
Elizabeth Squires
the site is a domain
of inaction
not giving a *******
a lifetime ban
instead it's using
the soft option
of account suspension

the law says
that online child
violation
and
exploitation
are criminal acts

and to think the poet forum
has allowed
a
*******
in
so he can procure
young ones
for his
carnal sin

it could be said
that the site
is
complicit
by
association

other sites wouldn't
be a-party
to such
a
perverse
crime
 Feb 2018 Seema
Ivan Brooks Sr
Love and knowledge  
are disseminated using the same principles;
The latter is obtained by reading, research or college
The former can be measured using many variables.

Impact people with the former,
and it will surely be passed on.
Show or treat people with the latter,
they too will spread it like roll on.

©️IB-Poetry
2/20/2018
This could be something beyond hypothesis, I think about it this way.
 Feb 2018 Seema
Johnny Noiπ
This poem is the opposite
of the one I wrote this
morning; this evening I
thought of u & felt the same
 Feb 2018 Seema
Ivan Brooks Sr
It could be a ruffle
or the rigorous hustle,
the meow of a kitten
or the tap from the kitchen.
It could be a pretty girl
wearing a beautiful pearl.
It could be the neighbors
doing summer labors.
It could be the noise from the machine
or the sound from a car's engine.
It could be the sound of something
or the combination of everything!

It could be some notification
or sudden commotion.
Maybe an abrupt interruption
or some communication.
It could be the cry of a baby
or a telephone call from a lady.
It could be the sound of an aircraft
or the noise from a hovercraft.
If could be the loud voice of your father
or the noise from your little brother.
It could be the call from your mother
Or the scream of your little sister.
No matter the kind of distraction,
It always briefly gets our attention.

©️IB-Poetry
2/19/2018
Distractions are in coexistence with life
 Feb 2018 Seema
FreeMind
At 5 years old
She liked a boy
That told her she was "pretty".
They sat hand in hand
And played pretend
That they were "Oh so ready!"
She told her friends
So they all giggled without an end.

At 10 years old
She liked a boy
That told her she was "gross".
"Too much hair! Look at that fat!
I'd rather like a monkey instead!"
Tears rolled down,
Self esteem has broke.
She told no one,
Because she already knew
What she was...

At 15 years old
She liked a boy
That told her she was "beautiful".
So strong and tall,
She gave no thought
But loved him always more.
"He is no good for you"
"Find someone better"
She let these words fly past.
They stood hand in hand
Against the world
They always stood together.

But something changed...

No longer interested in her
"I can not wait no more!"
He robbed her of her flower once,
And then once more.
Regret and tears,
Nothing more.
She held it all inside too long.
She asked for help.
In need of aid.
But got nothing more
Than blue, purple, and red
All over her.

At 17 years old
She liked no one.
She went nowhere.
She did nothing.
She wanted forgiveness.
She wanted life to simply end.
No words to speak.
Only thoughts filled her now.
The "Why?" and "What?" and "How?"
They almost killed her.
She cried all night.
She sat all day
With nothing else getting in her way.
All alone,
No longer her,
Thinking of the best way,
To finally give in
And say,

Goodbye...



-FreeMind
#19
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