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 Dec 2018 trf
Lexie
Shadows
 Dec 2018 trf
Lexie
The shadows are the same size
Your eyes have just become more adept
 Dec 2018 trf
Ella Mclaughlin
Sometimes
I feel numb
I don't know why
It just washes over me
One minute I'm laughing
The next I'm staring blankly at the wall

I've convinced my myself that I do this on purpose, chanting in my head every Night
I want to be depressed and numb
That I want to cry myself to sleep everynight
After i've purposley forced myself to create a river of blood flowing down my Arm

I do think I do this on purpose

When you've been sad for as long as I have
Wouldn't you?
 Dec 2018 trf
Arif Hifzioglu
There in FarBliss,
the land fed by dreams
where nothing poofs amiss,
there are sauntering ThinkSees:

-the children of ValleySeeps
who sip, sip, sip grins
from the sad, sad, sad streams
they call TearsTearsWeSeizeSeize.

In River ByeYou, they snare SighWoeWoo
and like to bathe in the sea LonelyBlue.
How they climb the hazy Mount NothingTrue,
to pray the dour deity NothingButYou!

When they play,
they chase FireFlies
on the wings of ButterRhymes;
they skim the gleaming ImagePools,
under the bright moon LadyMoves,
then plunge into the lost lake LetLoose.

Their day-flight’s a FeatheryFrenzy
on a gull’s SillySyllableSpree;
to catch the lofty eagle HearMe,
they test the terrible talons TearMe.

They labor behind the FathomFalls,
spinning FrothyMusic from TumblingBoughs
mulling melancholy in MoonlessGroves;

or, spin HeartStrings for all groans and grins,
dip them deep in dye in dongs and dings,
darning dreams by star-sipping streams,
struming the strings Nothing'sAsItSeems.

When the digy-dongy nights come
and you hear HeartyLonelyChime,
seize the sizzle of the time
and let it loose in your rhyme;

‘cause like Time, FireFlies.

©️Hirondelle (01/12/2018)
I love my fire, keep it dear and write in rhyme, so it never flies.

I know it doesn’t sound like Hirondelle; he let loose the child inside to write this, and I dread the boy played it rampantly. I hope it’s not a disappointment...
 Dec 2018 trf
harlon rivers
Gillian
 Dec 2018 trf
harlon rivers
White violets in the window
Scarlett leaves tumble across
the mossy hidden stones
mound beneath a chilly winter's dawn

A cold wind bares the dogwood tree
where puffed out plumaged woodpecker
gleans on creations' plump red bounties,
beheld subsistence beget for feral wings

Bright crimson fattened rose hips season,
lingering in the frigid morning dew;
stirring warm memories of fruitlet tea's
steeped from gathered garden magic spells
A spoonful of love and raw honey mellowed
a life once so lovingly endeared

Hot Blueberry dutch-oven scratch biscuits
imbue the wafting fragrant air —
life's cherished moments tarry
in the head and heart;
sipped by ruby lips still tasting
the untamable passion
of a breathless goodnight kiss

White violets blossom in the window
the morning fire's crackle echoes
a pining  memories' gentle whisper
awakened by the incoming wintertide

A dulcet breeze not soon forgotten
— melancholy traces linger
like a passing season's swan song

as your memory — leads me on...


harlon rivers ... December 5th, 2018
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