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 Dec 2015 Ady
niamh
Truth
 Dec 2015 Ady
niamh
The lies
like dirt under
fingernails.
Call on your inner
Lady Macbeth
but no amount of scrubbing
can cleanse them.
They lie thick
on the tongue
tainting tastes
with blistered buds.
A thousand ants
marching on your
skin.
Unscratchable itch.
Descending into
madness.
Only truth can
set you free.
Only you can
free the truth.
 Nov 2015 Ady
Paul Butters
I’m no author, novelist or poet.
I’m just Me,
And don’t I know it.
I don’t need to be classified,
As long as I’m writing, I’m satisfied.

Typing out words, line by line,
I don’t care if they don’t rhyme.
I don’t care if my verses don’t scan:
I’m not always an Iambic Man.

I just say what I gotta say,
I’m not worried about any pay.
Words come to me without much bidding,
The world of its evils I hope to be ridding.

I love to spread lots and lots of Love,
Bringing peace to all like a messenger dove.
Things of beauty bring joy, John Keats rightly said,
To make us sleep easy when we go to bed.

So I’ll paint what I paint,
And sing what I sing,
Just letting those words
Do their magical thing.

Paul Butters
Inspired by someone writing you are not an author just because you upload work to self-publishing sites.
 Nov 2015 Ady
rootsbudsflowers
And her kisses were fading,
They were growing ever slower
As they moved away from her
Over to him.

And she always saw it coming,
They were never truly lovers,
But it hit her in the stomach
Just the same.

And now that she has left her
And she went off to her other,
She doesn't really know
Just how to feel.

Because while she may have her other,
As her never lover did,
The loss she feels
Is ever just the same.
I look out onto this life I have designed
This concrete house with ivy enveloping the walls
I look at these faces, these many features that blur
I remember each one, every smile and chipped tooth
I look at my walls, where pictures used to hang
There are now sticky tac marks and ripped wallpaper
I look at myself, hidden amongst books and art
I have everything I need right here, right now

I find myself completely alone
 Nov 2015 Ady
Asim Javid
I woke up this morning and my name flashed on T.V.
They said i blew up places , they said i killed masses .
Men , women & children I murdered them all.
Who am I ?
I am a muslim and i am taking this fall.
They used my name and spread the terror.
I am not them , it surely is an error.
We, muslims, are the holders of peace , we spread love.
Why am I being  represented by their false actions.
I am a person, with different notions.
World will now brand me a terrorist.
Don't judge me by their actions , I insist.
I am not them, they pilfered my name.
They inflicted libel , and my religion to defame .
I have been robbed , robbed of my name.
I am a muslim , human like you , all the same.
My name has been robbed , my identity stolen
I deprecate the terror and mourn for fallen.
There are millions like me and humanity lies in our depths.
But we are all victims of Identity Theft* ...............
We Muslims condemn  the Paris attack.
 Nov 2015 Ady
Kj
dating a writer
 Nov 2015 Ady
Kj
dating a writer
is like guessing the weather.
you think you know what you'll get,
but you never do.

you never know
because

she'll create a hero
from your weaknesses

and she'll write a great character,
from every last flaw.

she'll create a thousand plots  
from your worst nightmares.

she'll take every last thing you hate
and create something you'll love.

she'll turn your anger
into confessions of adoration,

and she'll make you,
everything you're not.

but worst of all,
she'll leave you wondering-
is it you she's in love with,
or things she's created from you?

but here's the beauty of it:

if you date a writer,
you'll never die.
 Nov 2015 Ady
Andrew Switzer
Goodbye
 Nov 2015 Ady
Andrew Switzer
Dying love in a gilded cage,
Imprisoned by my pent up rage.
You never loved me, but neither did I,
The last gift you gave was the gift of goodbye.
 Nov 2015 Ady
Denel Kessler
Weeding
 Nov 2015 Ady
Denel Kessler
You must begin early
while it is cool and your head clear
discernment, a sharpened tine
probing the rocky darkness
for all things latent and destructive.

Be aware that the velvet sage
of the leaves belies their power
to take over every space, remember
roots burrow deep, anchoring in
fissures we don’t even know exist.

You must delve as close
to the origin as possible
or the **** you think eradicated
will bide its time, germinating
in the still secret ground

waiting for light
to penetrate the moist earth
waking the sprout
who voraciously pushes up and out
a curled blemish

in your otherwise carefully tended garden.
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