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Poetry hunkers down behind
the freshly finished facade
of language; each link to the lexicon
lovingly chiseled into the smooth,
grey stone. Here, precision reigns over all.

Vainly held in place for the length
of a reading, the facade glides
toward a shimmering white dot
on the horizon. The perfect poem, perhaps?
Here, perspective precipitates all.

Like quicksand, a marshy morass
of words ***** at the poet's feet
as he strains to match
the facade's pace, stride for muddy stride.
If he succeeds, pride will power all.

Poetry is breath, inadequately lodged
in the poet's ever-shrinking body.
Reading wrests the silent syntax,
inhales form through its viscera, exhales
metaphor and rhyme. Like becomes like, becomes all.
She can walk
          between
             night and day
               never letting either
                  get in her way.
She learned this trick
                     many moons ago
                                by
                     going deep within
           and never letting it show.
Her soul is innocent
her heart is pure
she’s gone through more
than most could endure.
            She’s an angel of light
                 an angel of dark
                 you never know
              what you will spark.
                      You want to hurt her?
                         Please, go ahead and try
                           she’ll be the one to show you
                                  just how well she can
                                                              f
­                                                                l­
                                                                ­  y.
                                  Her soul innocent
                    her heart pure
      but never think for one minute
that she’s not secure.
                                Say what you will
                          please, do what you must
                       but your jealousy and hatred
                             won’t waver her trust!
~
Even Those Angels Out There Have Their Limits…..
 Jun 2020 Tryniti
KNOWER
love is a riddle, yes my friend
tho' firm, at times it just may bend
tho' it's deceived, it may forgive
tho' there be doubt, it still believes

love is a riddle, yes my friend
't may cause a rend, then make amends
sometimes it's calm, sometimes throws fits
at times quite plain, at times with twists

love is a riddle, yes my friend
sometimes brings pain, yet sometimes joy
it may cause growth, and then destroy
't may cause a smile, or leave annoyed

love is a riddle, yes my friend
't may spur on high, and then descend
to bring you low so you may know
's no depth nor height it cannot go

love may let go, or may secure
it may give up, or 't may endure
at times seems rich, sometimes quite poor
sometimes quite stained, at times it's pure

in all this, friend, you ought to know
there is no place love cannot go
it's potent streams shall ever flow
I pray its waters help you grow
🤍🤎❤️🧡💛💚💙💜🖤
 Jun 2020 Tryniti
Ayesha
Beauty
 Jun 2020 Tryniti
Ayesha
I'd like being the moon;
known and adored for beauty
not for the body.

 Jun 2020 Tryniti
Ayesha
No adhesive sticks to my wallpaper.
None.

I spent hours collecting aesthetic pictures
Searching books for my favourite quotations
Typing them down and printing them out
Cutting them to pieces and
framing them to perfection
Collecting my old polaroids and butterflies
Shopping  for attractive vines and lights
Searching out the ideas and picking out the best
Done.

One by one, I taped the beauties up
Step by step, I filled up the whole wall
Piece by piece, I taped the pictures
It looked beautiful.

But when the **** came down,
it didn't come in steps or pieces
When the **** came down,
The **** came down.

All the scattered mess in front of me
Mocking me of my hope and expectations
laughing at my naive ideas and plans
The tangled wires of my defeated dreams
The wilted quotations quoting my motivations
Fallen polaroids depicting the damaged past

All the scattered mess in front of me
And I didn't pick it up for
I too was somewhere in there
Fallen, defeated, wilted, withered mess
I didn't blame the wall for
It too was struggling not to fall

That's what my room has become.
A tired mess mirroring my being.
Just wrote it.
I know it's not the best but
just needed to let it out.
 Jun 2020 Tryniti
Elena Tanakova
My age is unknown – the metrics are lost.
I’ll make up my face that wrinkles crisscrossed
Just dark veil of years beclouds tired eyes,
More different knowledge, more bitter cries.

There’s no sense in bitterness, sadness and regrets
Hopes and expectations are better than upsets.
I’ll delete the «Misses», «Tears» and «Losses» files,
I go boldly forward, not afraid of trials.

The soul has no autumn, love has no end
If it doesn’t happen, start over again.
Let thanks be for the past, let thoughts be for the present.
Chance -- for the impossible, wisdom -- for the transient.
 Jun 2020 Tryniti
Riley
One
 Jun 2020 Tryniti
Riley
One
One knee
One life
One soul
One son
One brother
One friend
One husband
One father
One grave
One
Last
Breath
 Jun 2020 Tryniti
KNOWER
In a tavern up yonder, on a hill painted white
Many sought their refuge from the chilly, winter's night
The powdery flakes, lighter than feathers
Made their descent, dulling the weather

As the inn-keeper fed logs to the fire,
Recalled to memory was the glare of a pyre
With wispy tongues swaying ever-so-bashfully,
A brilliant radiance painted the pub beautifully

Barrel after barrel lined the barman's counter
Spewing wine which fuelled the noisy banter
Embracing a lute, a bard did passionately sing
Of life, and of love, and of every weighty thing

And danced they did to "The Piper's Tune"...
With tumblers full, they drank to the moon
This short poem is as a result of a random bout of inspiration which came about as I was reading Asterix. :)

My favourite character in the series is most definitely Vitalstatistix, the chief Gaul.

"Why?" :?

Well I thought you'd never ask! :)

Simple, because of his cool, auburn moustache
and also because of his irrational fear of "THE SKY FALLING DOWN on his head"! (Talk about crazy! His paranoid frenzies surely do get me laughing... HARD! :)

Though come to think of it, I guess his fear probably isn't irrational afterall! (Operative word here is 'probably').

I mean, granted that Jay Sean acknowledged the possibility of Vitalstatistix's fear of 'the sky falling' in his song "Down"
(And I quote:
"... even if the sky is falling down...")
There has to be some truth/rationale to his fear, I guess.

Not to mention the latest film in the Bond series: "SKY FALL" (odd title, don't you think?... well, the chief Gaul wouldn't think it odd!)

The British - more specifically "Bond, James Bond" (pardon me, I just had to! :p) - have alot of credibility (though I honestly don't know who gave it to them).

So, if they (i.e. the British) make any allusion to "the sky falling", then there has to be something to it! (Period!)
(Well, more like 'exclamation mark' although "period" sounds more lively so:
"PERIOD!... astral-projecting a log")
:? xp :p :)

AFTER-THOUGHT:
(I'll be ******! Jay Sean is British! Who would have thought?!...
...ummm... Jay Sean? Or his relatives... or his friends... pretty much anyone who knows the man :p )


Now, if you're kind enough, this is the part where you recommend a psychiatrist. Better make them two
(because one just wouldn't do!)

:p :)

I hope you enjoy(ed)!
 Jun 2020 Tryniti
KNOWER
she ruffles thru' the written rows,
line by line, she sifts thru' prose
intent on catching with her knows (nose),
the timeless scents of dainty rose

her eyes affixed to gems in ink,
the precious words adeptly linked
by (her) lover's mind that ever thinks
of her thru' night without sleep's wink

in penned down verse she does find peace
amidst the words of (her) lover's piece
she is the muse that brings him bliss,
and with these words he sends his kiss
"Why don't you be the artist, and make me out of clay?...
Why don't you be the writer, and decide the words I'll say?... "
- Ellie Goulding

I hope you enjoy(ed)!... ☺️

may L💜VE, L🌹FE, and L🌞GHT always be with you... 🥰

God bless ☺️
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