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 Sep 2018 trf
Nyx
You were....
 Sep 2018 trf
Nyx

You were
Poison coursing my veins
Rope around my neck
A Bullet to my brain
Leaving me in a wreak

You were a
Cold blade to my wrist
A sweet gentle kiss
Hard hitting fists
Bruises were hard to miss

You were
Sunrise at dawn
Fresh flowers in spring
Stars glistening in the sky
A beautiful diamond ring

You were all these things and more
Everything I desired
Your beauty was intoxicating
A deadly taste I had acquired

I miss you

I know I'm better off without you
As your love was killing me slowly
Though I reminisce of that ever so sweet venom
That drew me in so closely.
 Sep 2018 trf
Ciel Noir
The Pit
 Sep 2018 trf
Ciel Noir
this is a pit                                                              ­          and into it
we throw our garbage                                           and our ****
       our grease                                                           ­      and grit    
   our slime                                                            ­and swill
  and all the people                                     that we ****
flotsam and jetsam                           film and oil
compacted into                              fertile soil
beneath the steep         and jagged *****
     there grows         a single flower








hope
 Sep 2018 trf
Pagan Paul
.
Snow drifts down
     laying a lawn cold sheet
across the frozen ground,
          creating art reliefs
like acid etching glass,
open space rolling and undulating,
in small hills and depressions,
     bedecked in a veil of white.
The silence is deafening,
quiet having been enjoyed
     and surpassed,
briefly punctuated by the call of a bird,
     A sharp whistle that shrieks
and attacks the silence.
The fresh smell of snowfall wafts up
     as it settles and glistens
in the light of silver moonbeams,
randomly peeping through clouds.
The taste of peace,
                     tranquility,
in the frigid air,
sends imagination soaring
from the desolation of isolation
to another time and place.
          The snow falls,
     falls,
in a relentless race for the ground,
               all is still,
               nothing stirs,
as the moor welcomes its quilt
and sleeps with a cold heart,
     dreaming,
                       of being kissed by the Sun.



© Pagan Paul (28/05/18)
.
 Sep 2018 trf
Madelynn Nieves
Break of Dawn
Clutch my hand
Wine stained lips
Crash against me
As if the world were about to end
Waves erupt
Setting the scene
So obscene
 Sep 2018 trf
Wayne Wysocki
Isolated like a star
Each soul stands so apart
It takes a trek across the void
To touch a single heart

I was drifting in the dark
You made that journey far
And opened up my heart again
And brightened up my star.

Thank you for reaching out.
Copyright © 2018 Wayne Wysocki
 Sep 2018 trf
Semicolon
Hey mom-dad, listen.
Hit me, hate me, throw me out,
But don't shut me up.
My dear mom, my dear dad,
Please listen to me talk.
You're the place where I can unveil myself and be true to who I am.
You're the place where I can pour my heart out and expect to be heard.
You're the place I want to spend my life talking and being heard.
Please don't tell me to shut up
Because I talk too much,
Because no one likes what I speak,
Because I talk *******,
Because no one would listen to me,
Because I need to stay silent sometimes,
Because nobody likes the stories I have to tell,
Please don't tell me to shut up,
Just because that's what I need to do.
Listen to me.
Please.
 Sep 2018 trf
Carina
New horizons
 Sep 2018 trf
Carina
Trapped in a cage with golden bars of light
Of ancient habit and direful duties;
Below the water crashed into the bight,
The whispering waves baiting with beauties.

But her shadow lurked around the coast,
Dashing her to the beach like drifting wood.
Preventing her from what she wanted the most
To reach new shores from where she stood.

She wanted to travel and sail the open sea
Beyond the shingle, seaweed and shells
Closer to the horizon where the birds flew free
Or to the arenaceous ground in diving bells.

And coming back to where she started
She found her seaside changed since she has parted.
Or did the widening horizon change her perceiving?
For returning was not the same as never leaving.
Dedicated to all those wandering souls who like to seek new horizons, who love travelling and experiencing the world with all its wonderful facets.
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