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 Jun 2015 Charles
Lexander J
She hides from her mother
ignores her dad,
she dwells within loss
and all things sad

her stomach's sick in the morning
she doesn't know why,
oh, she locks herself away
to break down and cry

heart jitters -
throat chokes in a lump -
every time her mind strays
to thoughts of her body's little flat bump

knowing what it might be
paranoid about how much it shows,
fooling herself no one will notice
even if it grows -

alas her head swells
sick with clotted disdain
no she can't carry on -
can't carry on with the pain

so up she opens to her parents
tears flowing from both eyes
unmasking the secret
that for months she's disguised

distraught, weeping,
the sordid act now told,
her mother heartbroken
her father disgusted but bold

"There's only one thing to do,"
he muttered with a voice that was hoarse
and down the ****** route of abortion
did they both start to course

her mother weak, pleading,
begging her daughter to think again -
her father furious, saying don't be so stupid
she's only the age of ten

and so Alice had enough
buckled and snapped,
her lust for life
sorrows parasite finally sapped

off the city bridge, into the icy water
did she jump and dive -

now encapsulated within the womb of death,
that keeps both mother and child alive.
From the distance I can hear
The glorious drumbeats roll
Far far away
In the eternal home of my soul

I can feel the air
It is warm as in the spring
I hear the golden bells
As in praise to Christ they ring

I can smell the scents
Of flowers of honeysuckle on the vine
And of the pine trees standing tall
Aromas so divine

I can taste the sweetness
Of water clean and pure
In a land that knows no night
Of this I am sure

I can see the beauty
Of mountains rising high
Piercing through the snow white clouds
Up into the azure sky

Looking into the horizon
I see the things which I seek
My saviour, love and joy
And heavens eternal peace

In the distance I also see
Loved ones that I have known
With JESUS our precious Saviour
In their far away eternal home

These things to me are real
And I cannot wait
For these things I see
Through my eyes of faith

RLB


I was thinking of heaven today and what it must be like there and how I can't wait to see it.These thoughts came to me so I wrote them down in a poem.I know that heaven is far beyond anything I can attempt to imagine or describe, but the things I love I can't help but think will be there pure and untarnished by sin. The thought causes me to think how beautiful heaven must be, and with each passing day I long for heaven more than the day before.
Thank you Lord Jesus.
 Jun 2015 Charles
AK Bright
There's no secret
just stories to be told
of Love anew
or lovers of old

Not just of people
But love of things
Perhaps a flower
Or bird as it sings

Whether it be nature
Or matters of the heart
The simplest of occurrences
Has a poetic spark

Observation
marrying fantasy
experience
begetting reality

A poet's table
Is a smorgasbord
Consume all you like
There'll always be more
The moments fall like the raindrops
Every memory a raindrop makes

The axis of hope spins freely
Free is all we hope to be

There is no beginning to the end
It's simply called eternity
 Jun 2015 Charles
Amitav Radiance
Strong winds may uproot you
Unsettle your stoic resignation
You will be shaken and stirred
Lot of ponderings and doubts
In the middle of nowhere
When gravity does not give hope
Become a fearless traveler
Encounter the strong winds
No matter where you settle
Continue to spread your roots, deeper
Your soul is still with you
Nothing can stop you from reliving
Every unsettling episode
Will teach you to be more resilient
From a broken home
I'm left all alone
Escaping words
Inside my tattered soul
Bleeding wounds
From depths unknown
My heart hurts
My mind is blown
Bruised bones
Aching eyes
Searching for truth
Among all the lies
I'm dying inside
Without my disguise
Tears falling south
Moon to the north
I'm breaking down
Without any worth
Holding it all in
Hiding all my scars
It's only in the black of night
That I can see all the stars
 Jun 2015 Charles
GfS
the Thinker
 Jun 2015 Charles
GfS
I'm but a Dante Allighieri
watching his Beatrice
fall from his hands
Watching her fall for another man
Leaving me to insanity
and all I could do is watch
watch her be well and happy
making our existences never meet

All I could do is watch
and think about her
Maybe, in someday, I will meet Gemma
but she will never be Beatrice
 Jun 2015 Charles
GfS
All I ask from you now is to pray.
Keep praying til I want what you want
If what you want is for me to stop loving you
If what you want is for me to give up on you
Please pray harder if that's what you want
Cause everyday, I'd love you longer and longer
Everyday, I'd have fallen for you
over and over and over again
Pray til I want what you want
If that is what you really and truly want

It'd be selfish for me to ask you love me
the same way that I love you
So here I ask, pray
*Pray til I want what you want
Please keep praying for me
Fell heal over heads
          in love with a poet,
  he's mostly a rhyme schemer
       likes Poe and his dark Raven,
  in actuality,  I'd fancy him more if
    he were like Pablo Neruda, but I digress
I'm much accurately fashioned after Emily Dickinson
        chasing heaven's June bugs toing and froing,
we'd meet at a perfectly superfluous coffee shop
    he'll be murmuring elegiac pentameter
I'm simply looking to devour precious words,
    we'd argue about abstract destinations,  
            straight forward persuasions and
               premonitions of wayward ink allusions,
some days I want to claw mine own eyes out
               amid all that nonsensical alliteration
  others, I want to rip out embellishments
                   of his black heart's magnification,
he mutters tumult under his breath,
     states he's abundantly sickly tired of all my
         fanatical froufroutant  flourished fantasies,
albeit, we're mild mannered artistes
         of overstatement and simplification
               thus, we continue laying it on thickly
I, with my hyperbolic cuppa tea and honey,
       he's all brass tacks, no nonsense black coffee
ultimately, we reservedly seek gratification,
      envisioning who functionally makes it first
to a finished line of manifestations's publication,
           in eternity's poetic intentions and beyond
For my good friend 'J', yes of course its been spiffed up & embellished!
 Jun 2015 Charles
Jandra
I only loved your presence
I didn't love you

Or maybe

I did fall in love with you
And I think I miss your presence

But maybe

I still  love you
And I miss everything about you

I have to stop lying to myself

I love you
I really do

And maybe

You feel the same way too
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