We
were
strangers
for far to long,

We
had ears
for the same song,

We
weren't sure
what was right,
but we knew what was wrong,

Good to know a place
to belong.

read this slowly
in the intent to feel as though
your big toe stands on top of the highest peak
and attempt to spin
sweeping the air
and you are allowed to smile as wide as the sky above
and you may grasp the blades that make your shoulders
feeling safe,
you might feel alone.

Poetry comes from the heart and soul
At times it is revealing
Laying bare inner most secrets
Others, it is concealing
Misleading the reader
To the truth of what is deep within
Poetry
It is truth
It is deceit
A mystery
Or just plain spoken
Poetry
Is whatever you want it to be
A song you hope captures the moment

Kelly Rose
© September 16, 2017

Craving Paradise
By: Lucian Huw Benedict

I built a paradise out of despair too desperate
Too empty, too silent, I only hear the echoing
Reveries, Fantasies, The Angels are singing
As if so near yet so distant



I built a cathedral with my desires
Above all creations, through the windows forever higher
I am burning, drowning in warmth that's not there
Yet I am letting it heal the pain, pouring down Gilded Rain



I crave heaven, snowflakes and stardust of heavens
Yet, I am burning in hell, as
A sinning believer kneeling in the spotlight of Benevolence
Gazing at the white dove, my sight follows it to heaven
Leaving me at lost
My shadows escape, running in two directions
"Are you heading to the quiet paradise?"
"Or to pay your debt in hell, My Conscience”



I saw the angel's innocence with my mind’s eye
Too blurry, too abstract, a mirage's city reigns
Begging, For the Fortune Wheel's Turning Tides
I used my illusions to reverse back the flown kite,
And went back to a Dreamer's night



I wrote rhapsody with a fantasia
A Silent Solo, I can't hear the melancholia
Silent Melancholia
Peaceful, *******, I take off the camouflage
And Play the last desperate tune
Between Heaven and Earth, Up and Down



I crave heaven, lights and warmth of paradise
But am simmering in hell, like the
Sinner in Purgatory aflame in a ray of righteousness
The most sorrowful thunder roars in turmoil among the raging clouds
Just a flight of solitary plight
He spreads open different wings
Crimson light and White shines
Tears him between the Inferno and Paradise

What a shame it is
that we spend most
of our time these days
committed to standing
on unloving
ground.

Instead of loving
our neighbor as
ourselves,

we seek unfettered
validation,
no matter our
own candid transgressions.

Our minds are full of stolen
ideas,
like eggs from the nests of eagles.

We spend our nights measuring wolves.


*

-JBClaywell

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