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 Apr 2016 XIII
Denel Kessler
Eulogy
 Apr 2016 XIII
Denel Kessler
We attempt rescue, unable to bear
the stardust-coated dragonfly
beat, beat, beating
frantic on the glass.

We entice him to perch
on our extended lifeline-broom
nurse him in a box, where he flutters
quivers, lies quietly blue.

My son cries bitterly
as we place a minute cross
upon the dragonfly grave
while intoning our final goodbyes:

We honor those who have fallen victim
to this fatal architectural trap, lured
by skylights of enticing white-light death
and the paned illusion of freedom.

In admiration of winged determination
and perseverance in the face of futility
we carefully tend the fragile, curved bodies
lay them here to rest under the mock orange.


years of gauze-weighted detritus
swept beneath these ponderous shrubs
a reminder - what seems like freedom
                                                         ­           often isn’t.
We lived in a house that had outdoor skylights.  Insects would be lured by the light and die trying to fly through the glass that imprisoned them.
I hated those skylights...

Hey lovely poets!  Thank you so much for being a supportive, amazing group of people.  I'm truly honored that you take the time to read my poems.  The Daily is just icing on an already sweet cake.
: )
 Apr 2016 XIII
Mon
3rd Law of Motion
 Apr 2016 XIII
Mon
mahal
                                  kita
                    ­                                    hindi
                       ­                                                     kita
       ­                                                                 ­                                  iiwan

                                                          ­                                                iiwan
           ­                                                                 ­ kita
                                                        hin­di
                                  kita
mahal
originally by JMS
 Apr 2016 XIII
Neex
The Irony..
 Apr 2016 XIII
Neex
Those that love,
Get their hearts broken.

Those that trust,
Get hurt.

Those that have faith,
Get disappointment.

But,
Those that don't get heartbroken,
Those that don't get hurt,
Those that don't get disappointed,
Don't know what is feels like to be truly alive.
I know what it feels like to be truly alive, and every step is worth it.
 Apr 2016 XIII
Marisa Lu Makil
People love a poem they can relate to

People love a poem they can define for themselves.

People love a poem their heart sings to

A poem they can pick up off the shelf
 Apr 2016 XIII
Ignatius Hosiana
I can be a star that shines through your night and day
a painting that sticks on the feathery canvas
the radar to your ship, the enduring campus
the words that are so difficult to say
I can be the one leaf in windy seasons that never falls
but sticks with you till the very moment eternity calls
the beautiful melody that never ceases to sing
the serene filled drone which may never sting
I can be the careful and graceful bird that never perches
the unnoticed but concerned eye that always watches
the willing helping hand in your times of need
the much desired friend in need,a friend in deed
I can be every joyful and melancholic poem you've ever read
a roseate flower whose frail petals never fade
the green thick dense canopy to always bring you shade
the one who makes your twisted world a better place
I can be wide spectral smiles to colour your love locked face
A friend against foes, a kiss on your cheek,
Or a secret in your palm to hold you whenever you're weak
I can be more than just a phone call and text
a mechanic who gets the wreck of your broken Heart fixed
Or lifeless images of glowing eyes and tearful emotions,
and the eternal rivers of hope flowing within to Oceans
I can invent the technology to teleport you here
be the keeper who whispers sweet somethings in your ear
the destiny you've always wanted to have
I can make that dream lad you've always wanted to love
if only you give me a chance,and to the rhythm of life rise to dance
walk barefooted through thorns, I can take the bull by his horns
I can be the Madonna whose bloom conquers all seasons
and outlives eternity if only you understand my reasons
 Apr 2016 XIII
gray rain
12 O'clock
 Apr 2016 XIII
gray rain
12 o'clock
never seems to stop
I threw a rock
at the grandfather clock
but the tick tock
doesn't stop
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