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 Dec 2014 WS Warner
Haydn Swan
Hurt
 Dec 2014 WS Warner
Haydn Swan
If only you knew the damage caused
a few small words said and forgotten
days and hours of painful analysing
awake late at night, cold sweat haze
reliving, re-enacting, in my mind
caught in a time trap, held on repeat
left on my own, locked in this hurt
I hear my voice repeat as I cry
eternally asking the question, why?
.
 Dec 2014 WS Warner
Olivia Kent
Take me away from the sharp icy heather.
Come walk with me.
Pray take my hand.
On the craggy land, may our feet be liberated.
For I want not to slide unto the land of Duncan.
May my feet be firmly anchored, upon the hills where Robert walked.
Should we focus our eyes together, as we give due regard to the fowl soaring in the firmament.
Then to the smoky tavern we shall go.
To drown our sins with a warming dram.
As the evening will stoop, fast becoming night.
We shall slumber into the morning.
Tomorrow for the loch we shall depart.
Once again shall we march.
Escorted only by the rising of the winter sun.
©Livvi
 Dec 2014 WS Warner
Natalie
do not date a girl
who writes.
she will internalize
everything,
carve poems
into your eyelashes
instead of
kissing them,

she will analyze you,
calculate age
from the rings
your coffee cup
leaves
instead of refilling it.

she will memorize
the way your
lips curl around steam,
but not that you
take it
two sugars,
no cream.

she will read your
palm instead of
holding it
against her chest.

she will not
blink
when you leave,
because she is
already
romanticizing it.
 Dec 2014 WS Warner
Sally A Bayan
~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

it is just mid afternoon...
weariness now overshadows the sun
that still shines bright upon me...
i feel this gird to my thoughts,
it rules amidst a crowd...
mind is not free to explore.
subject matters are all astray,
concentration is somewhat frayed...

i wait for a few more hours to pass,
when birds
would soon fly back to their nests up the trees,
turning in from their day's adventure,
when shades of burnt orange would fill the sky,
when the sun would hide lower behind the mountains,
when the afternoon air slowly turns
to a cool early evening breeze,
It is time
to be in a corner that awaits me,
where i always want
to be

my mind, my heart, my feet
no longer manacled by then,
would traipse along freely
in a measured, leisurely beat.
can't wait,
~~~~~~~~~~~~
i am there
~~~~~~~~~~~~
n o w
~~~~~~~~~~~~

no words  
only our eyes,
our hands,
our lips
would speak-
unmeasured,
precious hours
moments of
unfettered love,
ours alone
my dearest,
~~~
here,
~~
in
our
haven
by the sea.

~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(October 11, 2013)


Sally

Copyright 2013
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan




~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
***Feet, mind and heartbeat move fastest when meeting your loved one        
     at day's end...*
 Nov 2014 WS Warner
Laura DeLuca
The sound of your delicate voice still gently resonates in my ears, an infinite reverberation.

Sometimes I still feel your subtle, soothing, yet indescribably powerful and electrifying touch gliding upon my skin, reassuring me
that we will last a lifetime
and then some.

Now and then, a warm breeze swifts through the air.
A sweet aroma of calming familiarity, that only makes me think of you.

Often times I see little reminders of you;
bits and pieces of you that sneaked into my life that I had never noticed.

Every once in a while; a flavor that is closely acquainted with my under spoken tongue seems to find it's way back into my mouth, tasting like a sugary sweet, cooling and careless

piece of you.
I can't seem to get you out of my head..
thoughts on this poem would be greatly appreciated.
 Nov 2014 WS Warner
Laura DeLuca
Perhaps the familiar yet unnoticed crevices in the walls must mean more to me than the very same crevices which will forevermore remain hidden in the depths of my heart.

They're all pieced together,
forming an abstractly numb
piece of art.

Incisions, Incisions,
Made by false, ignorant decisions.

Beautifully arrayed intervals of nothing but enigmatic space.

When you part, your soul hath but a trace.

Done caring.

About the permanent , lethal damage that has been done

By far more than just one.
Take a soft tipped brush
Dip, and trace my nakedness;
Viscous dripping rainbow streams
Clothe me here within our dreams.
Swirl my curves
With satin pink,
Let your brush flutter and sink
lower, purples, red and blue,
I'm a canvas here for you.
Paint me scarlet, paint me gold,
Paint some words
italic, bold
Stop when you begin to weep
A masterpiece, for us to keep.
An old one of mine, a favourite.
 Oct 2014 WS Warner
Petal pie
On a royal visit by chance
Queen Liz spots a crew who breakdance
She throws down her bag
And cries 'sod one's jet lag'
'Dagnammit, I'm gonna get up n prance!'
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