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I wonder if I can write a poem with two voices?
Don’t know mate, maybe you can.
Who the hell are you?
I’m your second voice, you muppet.
Ah. But will they be able to tell?
Well, skim readers might miss it.
Oh.
But if they read “vocally” like you do,
It should be okay.
What, even when I go
Onto a new line?
Reckon so, just about. In any case,
Some websites will format it differently,
But we’ll get away with it.

Is it still poetry though?
Could be, mate.
Really?
Well, it depends on the wording I guess.
So we need some flowery language?
Yes, like the dogs of war are gathering,
As two adversaries square up,
For gladiatorial combat.

MMM. Well, I’d prefer to write things like:
The sun is streaming over snow-capped mountains,
To greet the summer
As we awaken from our wintry slumbers.
That’s okay too mate: it’s all poetry.

But should I really be seen,
Talking to myself?
They know you’re mad already, friend,
No worries there.
That’s okay then:
Let’s get this thing posted.
Yes, go ahead.

Paul Butters
Out of the box we go......
You can find yourself so far,
even with the smallest thing...

Just listen to the communications of the universe.

They convey messages all around you,
just find your balance...
and you'll be alright!
I Seek Love
What you say and what you portray
Should be same as so to say my love
I seek your love whenever I say I pray
My wonderful love my innocent dove

Get an eternal embrace just to forget
What all is around and do not just suit
But on your beauty I can say I can bet
You are a wonderful tree full of fruit

My sweetheart let us be on top of hill
Let us enjoy life in real sense of taste
Your beauty haunts your charm to thrill
My sweetheart is so pure and chaste

Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2016 Golden Glow
My words are neither dark nor bright;
No lands of ice under the night,
Nor warm rose-gardens dawned with light,
Pastel hues and tones are their sight.
 Jan 2017 Chloe Chapman
Ramin Ara
We are so pleased
In a brief moment
Of life
And no flower
Is dissatisfied
With such a duration
 Jan 2017 Chloe Chapman
Mayela
Heart is the headmaster,
Seems like there is an on coming disaster.
Mind is an abuser,
Can't see what's in the future.
Soul is the professor
There's a problem and an answer.
Body is a tumb,
Something that's just used.
Clamity comes when you're sleeping in your bed,
Thinking about all the love that you give.
What you receive only passes in your dreams,
Don't think too much,
It's not always what it seems.
I woke up in the middle of the night
Eyes aching, chest bursting with sadness
A thought cascades through my mind; "I miss you"
Yet, unbeknownst to me, who was I missing?

They say to get hurt is never pleasant
But how much do you bleed until you stop noticing you're bleeding?
'Cause as I watched you stab me through the heart
I couldn't feel anything but my soul screaming, "not again"

Maybe to feel is a crime once you've indulged in it
A one-way ticket to a land that you cam never get back;
As lonely as I was that horrid night
A night where I was a slave to all these cryptic emotions

Once every blue moon, I am overwhelmed by my transgressions
To a point where  I am knee deep into the qualms of sorrow
Yet after a while, I become stoic
How messed up do you have to become to feel sad about feeling nothing?
I took it upon myself
to Disconnect for a day

No Social Media
No Twitter
No Email or Text

I was looking to unwind
in a totally different way

No Calls
No Visits
No Car

I drank in the scent of roses
while watching clouds dance.

I walked
I listened
I relaxed.
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