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 Mar 2015
Debbie Jean Embrey
May your morning be blessed
as the doth rise
and may your smiles be unending
beneath the blue skies

May your love expand
and there be no end
I'm just glad to be able
to call you my friend
written @ 2:10 a.m.
on 3-17-2015
 Mar 2015
r
Air
I like old glass
with bubbles

Pockets of breath
of the dead laid to rest

I break and I breathe and I taste

Their spices
and vices

Kisses from wives
Curses and verses

Songs of themselves
Wine of their wrath

Salt from their baths

Smoke from their fires
Sweet tastes of desire

Shared sighs and cries
Dead butterflies

Air.
r ~ 3/16/15
Maybe I should save it in a bottle and put a cork in it. :)
 Mar 2015
DC raw love
Jonesing
Yearning
Craving
Wanting
Needing

?

Blinded

?
 Mar 2015
axr
if we lived in a castle
would you make me your queen?

if we were rain we would fall on deserts
the poor's thirst to quench

if we were acid
we would be corrosive,harsh and reactive

if i was the moon and you were the sun
i'd borrow your light and make us one.
It doesn't make sense, I know, it's  supposed to be like that
 Mar 2015
A. S. J. Tessimond
Is it sounds
                  converging,
Sounds
            nearing,
Infringement,
                     impingement,
Impact,
            contact
With surfaces of the sounds
Or surfaces without the sounds:
Diagrams,
                skeletal,
                             strange?

Is it winds
                curling round invisible corners?
Polyphony of perfumes?
Antennae discovering an axis,
                          erecting the architecture of a world?

Is it
      orchestration of the finger-tips,
                                                       graph of a fugue:
Scaffold for colours:
                              colour itself being god?
 Mar 2015
Musfiq us shaleheen
~~
Sometimes Loudly
Sometimes Silently
Yellow leaves have fallen,
Becoming dry
Pale
Passing through as the grained Sound on the Street

Slowly dark flees across the evenings
What an Illusion!
What Shadows!
Has Shuffled
The Past
Present
Future

Your form that creates metaphors
And what a wonderful feel
Through out its gravity
Night dancing,
When aroma of Night-Queen
Moving in the air,
Plays with the moonlit
As if Reminds
The First love Poem

Has burned within the form
Standing to fascinate
Away, a dense bunch
Of vine Forest
Bored Air moving
Listening the murmur
Of dried leaves
In the passing wind of banner
As if Someone Calling with
My old name

Empty
Restless Heart
Today is the tune that somewhere else
Like a flow
Of a distant river melody,
Surging waves of the attack
In the Strange night of Spring

Continuous grey leaves falling
Falling on the Floor
Whispering the words on the street goes through
What an Illusion!
What Shadows!
~~
@ Musfiq us shaleheen
whispering the words on the street goes through/
 Mar 2015
Devon Webb
I was so willing to
fight for you
but you took away
my armour and
stabbed me
in the back.
 Feb 2015
Silence Screamz
If your story does not hold up in the light,  then you will spend the rest of your life in the dark.
 Feb 2015
Amanda
I miss you most
when the leaves start falling
off the trees
and the chill in the air
bites at my bones
just like
the absence of
You.
 Feb 2015
Kendall
...
How
     small
           do
               I
                 have
                      to
                        be
                          before
                               you
                                  love
                                      me?
 Feb 2015
Sia Jane
“I’m in love with everyone I’ve ever met in one way or another.
I’m just a crazy, unhinged disaster of a human being.”*

Edie Sedgwick

---

                                                  ­                               I am the undone woman,
                                                                ­      mistaking myself
                                                          ­                      for the girl,
                                                                ­               others always see,
                                                            ­                  even at the call of my name
I most often, walk away

                                                           ­                       I rise & fall with the tides
                                                           ­                       standing in the abyss
                                                           ­                      shedding tear drops alone
                                                           ­                      gazing at black skies;
a full snow moon

I am a piece of the sky
a jigsaw puzzle
completing this Universe
I too inhabit

I am the cracked mirror
shattered pieces;
seven years bad luck
but as the cat,
I have nine lives
of counter attack

I am all the lovers
who pass through me
caresses that have graced
my inner thigh, the ecstasy
we reach simultaneously
during the love we make



In the absence of another
pieces of myself dilute,
I only know myself
by the ink I bleed
as I write these words
you read.

I am your canvas,
a picture book
coloured outside the lines
you call me your art

&, when,
the coffin door
closes shut,
you will know
I am nothing more,
than a Factory Girl,
misidentified as;
a thousand forms of fear.

© Sia Jane
 Feb 2015
Musfiq us shaleheen
~~
Southern winds have gone away
The music player has hanged
When playing the last romantic song

The Chill North wind is Sigh of yours
Has grown the pale Afternoon
How stupid the fade trees Standing!

Distant garden flower's Petals
Wither,
Helpless,
Careless

Midnight dew
Create the illusion of Sound
Nearby Lamppost,
Standing in the dim light fog
Alone,
Retreat
As the Calling Owl of the Night

Smokes of Cigarette lost in the Shadow
Putting the day,
Slowly vanish before
As the Mist
 
Along the road that you have left
Looked at me Surprisingly
Opening the door,
Just want to scream for unknown reasons
Once Again
~~
@Musfiq us shaleheen
As the Calling Owl of the Night
/
dear poet/poetess
if like share your comments/ repost that inspire me..
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