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▪♢▪
I hover above as
you write and ponder.
Visit your buffaloes
and assorted natural wonders.
Array of rocks 'n shells
Feathers, Eagle, Hawk.
Turkey and Peacock.
Your collection of critters,
they all welcome me.
Savion is busy and so, not
bothered in the least by my presence, 
though it would be such a lovely
moment to meet her...
My memories gleefully
take a hitch on the back of yours.
I playfully wonder if I shall be noticed..
as you are yet unaware of my decision,
upon invitation, to join you.

I love to travel...any way I can.
Today, this is the trip for me!
Memory at will. To visit with a
color, a scent, a touch, a hurt, a joy.
To explore a
memory yet unopened.

Woodlands, Wetlands and Deserts
Descending deep into the
Canyons, down to the river.
While here, venture the rapids.
Then, on to the Dead Sea and the Rose
colored Himalayan Salt Caves.
Dolphins to visit and sing
in chorus, beneath the ocean waters.
Oh, how I have missed them.

As is the luxury of Memory travel,
We are weightless and soundless. 
Have no odor, can swim and fly.
We are able at will, to tap into
Ancient Knowledge. The memories
that have come before us,
our gift as a shared consciousness.

We visit our happiest of times.
A delight to have and to hold.
Often, we become immersed in the
our most troubled experiances.
Reliving them over and over.
We are able to reroute a memory
at will,for our pleasure or to
indulge in pain, or a blame.

Our minds are a rich labyrinth of
hopes, dreams and remembrances.
Join in the fun. You can at will.
Thanks for taking this
little trip with me.
▪♢▪

Posting of 'Memory' by W L Winter.
It is  posted below "Hitchin' a Ride"
Or find with link
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1310736/memory/
Or just take a visit on over to
W.L.Winter's site
and luxuriate in the
Bountiful Beauty of his Poetry.
My response to W L Winter's Poem 'Memory'
♡ An invitation worth taking ♡
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1310736/memory/
 Aug 2015
Brian Payamps
Banging on the door. As twenty minutes before
There was hard tumbling on the floor.
Loud noise coming out my mothers vocal cords.
Her voice like mine when I hungered for her breast I use to suckle.
I was just a toddler
I didn't know any better.
Those men with the the blue shirts came again
The super let them in again
Since papa didn't open
But this time Papa didn't stay.
Those linked cheerios round his wrist as he gave me what would be my last kiss.
Mama wiped it of as if he just passed down sin
I saw this happen time and time again.
I guess you were fed up with his ****
But I was just a toddler I wouldn't understand why
The neighbors know our names.
 Aug 2015
Lani Foronda
"You cannot save him."*
I used to think that I could
Be a knight in shining armor
With my sword in the air and my head held higher.
I thought that I was better than what the mirror showed me.
***** streaks across my face?
            *War paint from my last battle.

Scuffed up shoes and calloused heels?
            Proof of a great highway escape.
Rope burns across my palms?
            A reminder of how strongly I held on.
However, someone should've called a magician because I’d become the next grand illusion.
            I was the backdrop
            The focal point
            The uneven lines
Which strained your eyes and made you feel as if something more was present.
But really— the trick was on me
            Because I wasn't a knight in shining armor but a child with a toy.
            I was a lifeguard who’d never learned how to swim.
            A fireman who choked on the flames.
            A therapist who’d never sat in her own chair.
*I was just a girl with a heart one size too big and mask worn too well.
April 19, 2015 / August 20, 2015
 Aug 2015
Kelley A Vinal
D minor
Rembrandt's finer
Paint, oils, a breakfast
of red grapes and green olives
with Homer
Aristotle gazes
Admiration for a bust
An odyssey of emotion
Somewhere in the dust
Bach's fugue is overwhelming
Travelling back in time
Moving skulls around
To rest and surround
Socratic dialogue
resounds
leather-bound, a work of art
 Aug 2015
brandon nagley
That moment
Of just waking from a nightmare
Of being told in the dream
Thou wilt dieth tonight,
I canst lieth
It feared me;
To mine core.........



©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
Real dream, took a nap and that's what was told to me.. Supposbaly was gonna be executed in dream... /: scary not happy... I know dream has alot to do with mine fear's all together in one dream.. Though also have real visions that come true.. and have dreams before real things happen... /:::::: scared me... Anyone who said nightmares don't scare em don't have human in them.. As I still have half human in me... As I have gift alot to see stuff before it happens in dreams scary but reality... As me grandpa has that problem or curse to or gift lol
leaves ecstatically ***** on the dollops
totter with the melody of the patter
pass the cascades one upon the other
invite the soil to join in the chorus!

dance in merriment their joyous heart
drink it all up not a drop to go waste
between each thunder while the clouds part
hold the sky's treasure deep in the breast!

sing the note of life buried in the ground
nurture each seed for the unbroken chain
scatter the dreams string them skybound
what's once here would come back again!

when the blue returns tinged with gold
leaves would glisten in pearly necklace
they won't be there when the story is retold
yet veins would throb in the rain's embrace!
 Aug 2015
niamh
A broken mirror
Holds a thousand
Eyes.

Shattered images
Of confused
Components.

Witnessing
From angles
Anew.

The struggle
To recognize
True self
Is infinite.

And the
Reflection
Is never
The same.
 Aug 2015
brandon nagley
Her roots stretcheth back
To tribal times;
As tis she is a tribal girl
Wild, raw, ****, tropical,
Her wild eye's like a panther's at night
Turneth me on;
As tis I seeith the primal nature of them
Pierce right through mine soul....





©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©あある じぇえん
Her wails rent the air

O God how unfair you are
to have snatched him from me
the only man that truly cared
never treated me badly.

Without him is a life to grieve
empty meaningless
take me too O God relieve
this pain of no redress!


Shouldn't we bring a costly cot
of mahogany or such wood
asked the men what was her thought
about carrying her man so good.

Shouldn't the pyre be of sandalwood
the fuel a pure ghee
your husband ma'am was a man too good
to be burned ordinarily.

She paused a while frowning dark
a shadow passed her face
a hint of wince made its mark
a pall of uneasiness.

He's gone to never return
the onus is now on me
to run the days with meager earn
and not spend wastefully.

ordinary wood would burn as good
kerosene would do well
prudence demands not one should
be lavish in funeral.
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