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 Nov 2015
Adele
I breathe a sea of emotions
I am the painter of the vast sky
The sun and the moon
whispers each memory
when I close and open my eyes
I rise with the mountains
and drown beneath the ocean's time
I fly with the birds
and dance with the trees
I see the air's breath
through its gentle breeze
I was born from one's history
and died from a subtle knife
I might reborn
after a very long time
Just read my words
and listen to the music of my heart

My life is a song

of endless poetry.
(c) Adele
 Nov 2015
mostly water
poetry is dead
as the air
it walks on --
good as dead
to compost heaps;
the heat reserved in sunlit stone
what'd you buy?
what'd you pay for it?
 Nov 2015
Chalsey Wilder
My life is the sky
The ground is my death
To all the Gods people do or don't pray to
Wonder which one will be there after that last breath
All we can do is try
But really our life is in the sky
So much meaning in this for me.
 Nov 2015
yass min
what's wrong with you ?
they ask me all  the time.
i'm wrong  with me ,
i'm too much to live with .
 Oct 2015
ryn
If I could stoke every single flame in the
     fiery blaze that is your heart
          To ashes are the
               kindling that I so willingly volunteer

If I could be the strength
     round the girth of your trunk
          Formidable am I made to last
               year after year

If I could exist in the
     tales of your breaths
          Perpetual am I etched in the
               eternity of your forever
Darkness pervades; an empty whole.
Tears fill this broken bowl.
The nectar too salty to quench the thirst
A brutal reminder of what came first

A Blackness, a Void. God illuminated into being.
Beauty, Belief, Faith - a false way of Seeing.
The futile attempts to make the hole whole,
but it's Loneliness that resides in our Soul.

In every being sprung into existence
the Romantic effort of Man's resistance
is Love, hailed as the Cure.
But ask yourself, "Are you sure?".

At a life with Loneliness by our side
Love's importance becomes amplified.
But Love is just a wishful lie
it is Loneliness that embraces us as we die.
 Sep 2015
ryn
Hidden star against the dark backdrop of night.
Not seen...
Not heard...
Struggling to assert existence with waning light.

Stifled are the stories dying to be told.
Eclipsed are the emotions
within collapses and folds.
Cloaked is the voice
that screams in silent anguish.
Disenchanted is the will
that once spoke of flourish.

I see you black star...
Know that...
You're nearer than far.
Dig deep...              
Past the charred, crumbling skin.
Dig deep...          
Into the beating heart within.

Know that...
You're better than any of them.
Any of us.
Time will only reveal,
what the sky sought to despicably conceal.
Your true calling.
Not as the quiet sentinel
that no one sees...
but a cosmic gem.
.
For those who are constantly being overlooked, misjudged and wronged in any way.

I see you...
.
Inspired by Radiohead's "Black Star".
 Sep 2015
RH 78
Why is there a little boy lying on the beach?
Washed up.
Lifeless.
All for a new life too far to reach?

Why is there a little boy lying on the beach?
Terrorists
Heartless.
What happened to the human rights we all preach?

Why is there a little boy lying on the beach?
Traffickers.
Gangs.
Displacing people no home and no speech.

Why is there a little boy lying on the beach?
A son.
No future.
We hang our heads and weep!
Broken hearted and deeply affected by pictures I saw in the news depicting the lifeless body of a little boy no older than three who was photographed washed up on the shore line of Turkey. The result of further illegal human smuggling, people trafficking promising to get families to Europe on a false promise. All too often, people are put into small boats unable to sustain the weight of all the people put upon it and not fit for purpose. This is yet another shocking event in the wake of atrocities taking place in North Africa where the displacement of millions of innocent people continues. Governments are too busy counting the pennies and quarrelling amongst themselves in addition to wasting precious time as gangs and smugglers take advantage of the situation by sending people to their death profiting from the desperation of families searching for a place to call home. When will this end? RIP to the little boy, his brother and mother who all perished.
 Sep 2015
Pete
This will be my last writing for you,
For there are no words to be spoken too.
This will be the last,
And I will never go back to the past.

I will never go back to the past
Because memories don't last.
And I will miss your benign face
As well as your embrace

I will miss them so much
And I will leave, I will leave off the latch.
I think this time I will cry;
This will be my sweetest and last goodbye.
 Sep 2015
beth fwoah dream
our love scattering
like the song of the dark,

we are within our
wind-blown castle walls
where wild roses ramble,

we can hear
the sea
its withering song
like voices from
the dead,

our hearts, misty
companions,
beckon to each other
no strangers
to the pulse of love.
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