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 Jun 2015
South-by-Southwest
Coffee in the mornings
******* afternoons
Smoking joints in joints
Listening to music
Every night by moon

My youth went up
As another puff
As another sniff , a wiff
And before I knew it
I was looking very ruff

I can't even remember
If I slept at all
Or who I was sleeping with
For all I see are faces
Their names I don't recall

Rosebud tripped on the step
Coming out the entrance door
She fell into my open arms
I would never be the same man
As I was just before

See most women
Leave their jewelry
Rosebud left her name

Rosebud loved the thunder
Rosebud loved the rain
She scared me like lightning
Laugh at all my pain


She never asked me if I loved her
She never said the same
She laid her head upon my shoulder
Said when you're gone
I will be sorely pained

Rosebud tripped on the step
Coming out the entrance door
And fell into my open arms
I would never be the same man
As I was just before

See most woman
Leave their jewelry
Rosebud left her name .
My heart shouldn’t have profusely bled
I saw her face only once
a moment’s crossing in a moment paid
not meant for a second chance!

The fire shouldn’t have leapt in me
she was a doomed emotion
trying to live in my penned poetry
meant to be only a notion!

My mind shouldn’t have imprisoned her
caged her from one mere glance
lived the phantom of an absurd affair
spilled ink in a mad trance!

I shouldn’t have sought her anymore
searched in the wild her trace
she couldn’t be my paramour
I saw from the crowd her face!
 Jun 2015
Sjr1000
Breaking out
in
Bojangle
dances
in
the most inappropriate
places.
 Jun 2015
CA Guilfoyle
Where sleeps the crescent moon
and drifts bright stars away
to bring a song of light
glowing from a thicket there
where tawny birds take flight
or dappled in the wooded trees
foggy breathes the morning light
with rousing sounds of faeries there
drowsy in their dreaming cares
they bid farewell unto the night
and to stars that sail swift into
the evanescent light.

Now springs another day from this woodland place
soft with mossy grays or starry lichen lace
green the leafy ferns will wake
with scented rains wet upon the bark
incense cedars drift and swirl
sweet, the air of smoke
until alas the sun so brilliant comes
from behind a clouded cloak
and disappears once more
the dawn that softly spoke.
 Jun 2015
Ignatius Hosiana
I don't want an umbrella
I just need someone
To hold my hand and walk
With me through the rain

I need no pain killer
I just want someone
To stay ,one to talk
To till I'm past the pain

I don't want a fairy tale
I just pray for someone
with whom our story'll end well
Someone to make me love again
 Jun 2015
SøułSurvivør
<>¡<>

o denizen of yonder pond
you are so brave
of me so fond

your wings are crystal
beauty's grace
you're here
then gone without a trace

your body shimmers
oil's hues
mauve and purple
green and blue

tho I love you as you are
I'd rather view you
from afar

tho your love you'd like to share

please don't fly
into my hair!

<>¡<>
I actually did have that
happen once!

Scared the sh*t out of me!!!

---
 Jun 2015
poetessa diabolica
And the bell tolled in
  ascertained moments,
    as the moon
      rounded gold dust,
   surrendering
             ashes to infinity*

there are no last chances
       in surmised sunrises
 Jun 2015
SøułSurvivør
rust and ichor

veins are lacerations
and ruptured
seams

no idyllic countryside
sinkholes and lava
from the skin
to the bone marrow
from the ribcage
to the deepest
HEART


the earth is bleeding
edged with scarlet
a septic wound

her nature spasming with
her groaning
whales die from their
weeping
sea life washed ashore
in their hundreds
of thouands
birds fall from the sky
white doves become
black as ravens
oily and ravenous
mass extinction
honey bees
will be
no
more
to
pollinate
anything

the earth is bleeding
war's bitter wine
seeps from every pore
of mankind

hatred the cup of
the world
the grail to be drunk
deeply
til tomorrow is
sated and
there is no longer
any blood
to
be

spilled**


soulsurvivor
(c) 6/10/2015
I've been off site

A friend does research on the
animal die offs and the other
plights of our planet

Only my faith in the Lord
keeps me from being extremely depressed

The fact is that we will never be able
to heal what we have done to
this planet. Wars are escalating.

Is there anything that can be done?
Well. I have a suggestion.

PRAY.

---
 Jun 2015
ryn
I have observed brightly lit stores...
window displays welcome
with wide open arms.
Kaleidoscope of colours,
dancing to catchy music...
adding on to the allure and charm.

Droves of shoppers have identified this
as their slice of heaven.
Flagging retail therapy
and finding their
pocket of Eden.

I have observed some laying down.
Relaxing...
unwinding...
On patches of grass.
They stare at the sky
with much adoration,
as wispy clouds float on by.

These skygazers have chosen this
to be their little slice of heaven.
With the ground on their backs,
grass between their toes
and azure as their witness...
this is their pocket of Eden.

I have observed a couple of lovebirds,
seated at a café...
immersed deeply in conversation.
In their own private universe,
their own little bubble.
Employing hugs and frequent pecks as punctuation.

There's nowhere else they'd rather be.
From their eyes I know,
they've found their unique slice of heaven.
In each other
they've found their pocket of Eden.

I have observed myself...
I thought myself to be lost
for the longest time.
Seeking a place
for the voice in my head
that only spoke in rhyme.

All is not lost when
I finally found that place.
My little slice of heaven.
For almost a year ago today
I decided on Hello Poetry
as my pocket of Eden.
Thank you all for your kindness and support.
Much love,
ryn
 Jun 2015
Julie Butler
I'm finished in this spitting divinity down thankless throats

suspending what love you chose to dose for me, hung over my hope

I'm feeding off trees in this jungle of uniform stillness; darling say something.

be not in-cautious with me
please
it is my plea
I cannot stop this loving you
but I can break myself free

it is at night that it bites me
memories like fleas
the battle against drinking my way under sheets to find peace

I waste myself on the outflank of love
I as in I to me
I cannot torture us anymore
I need to be loved without the bleed
 Jun 2015
Dawn King
Pondering ways you've been persecuted
Is
< OR =
Time spent in self judgement
 Jun 2015
Dawn King
It’s in the linear plane
The one that buzzes
Directly above the brow
It’s heavy and foul
Sludge like and slow
Dense with no flow
It is unappealing in color
With a dull toxic glow
It must be rid of
By placing an amulet
Made of Amethyst stone
Upon the glabella
For many days in a row
Until a duplex conduit
Is understood between
Cosmos and soul
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