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 May 2016
bones
There's beauty in words,
but often I find
more in the ones I have heard
than in mine;

more in the sound
of the ones I have read,
than those at the tip
of the tongue in my head..
You never really know how strong you are until you're alone,
crying and forced to pick yourself up off the floor.
That is when you can truly see how big your emotional muscles are
and I promise
they are bigger than you ever thought possible.
Flex them.
 May 2016
phil roberts
The priest puts his trust
In martyrs and miracles
Clutching his rosary and his celibacy
To his bursting breast
And humanity walks
Through a series of cages
Every day

The ***** puts her trust
In bordellos and bodies
Clutching her money and her condoms
To her brassy breast
And humanity walks
Through a series of cages
Every day

The lawyer puts his trust
In regulations and rules
Clutching his charters and his decrees
To his dusty breast
And humanity walks
Through a series of cages
Every day

We each put our trust
In roles and rituals
Clutching convention and convenience
To our timid *******
So humanity continues to walk
Through a series of self-made cages
Every day

                 By Phil Roberts
Within the four walls
Below a roof
Busy with play of words
The poet is aloof.

The sky is breaking low
Pitter patter rain
Capture they must the flow
Of drizzles soothing pain.

Outside on a stretch of green
Drenched to the bone
A man with cracking skin
Hoeing from morn.

The toiler is tasked to ****
Paid by the hour
Must earn the precious quid
Whatever the shower.

The poet is lost in the toil
To grow his rhyme in shower
The **** works fast the soil
Growing hope by the hour.
 May 2016
ThePoet
I feel the selfishness beginning to sprout
Growing vast in a world already at stake
I can only see two hands reaching out
The right will give as the left will take

The world thirsts for the rush of greed
If we had it all we would still want more
We claim we care for the ones in need
When all of our riches feed off the poor

©
 May 2016
eunsung aka Silas
my true home rests in
the seat of my *heart
 May 2016
Lucrezia M N
Trying to understand this suffering sky,
I wonder why you paint it dark
breaking stares by ravishing storms
and blues at times, cause so do I.
Your true spark there it belongs
wonderful abyss that can’t ever be denied...

Empathy, chemical reaction to my thoughts,
rebel emotions on skin we wrote like
through your fingers drops of soul,
pure water, infinite source of light
love, you and so I did grow fond of.

Rain falls only on this face of mine
reflecting all smiles I make wildly
catching your words like souls in flight,
hearing sounds of precious stones and intensity,
sunbeams transfix my eyes
widening the esteem of immensity...

The sunset with it’s rumble,
whispers of a starry sky,  
warm wind,a striking rainbow,
fluffy clouds to admire,
it’s time…

Go…
I know, this one is so imperfect... but I didn't want to change the way and so the reason I wrote it about 3 years ago...
 May 2016
ryn
I'm stuck in this eddy.
And I'm such a poor swimmer.

I get swirled around.
Like a little helpless fly
caught in a wineglass.
Unbeknownst to the drinker.

I'm stuck in this eddy.
And I'm such a poor thinker.

I allow my mind
to get swashed around...
Like a lone sock
in the washing machine.
Lost without its other.

I'm stuck in this eddy.
And I'm such a poor survivor.*

So I just submit
to the will of the currents.
Like an empty bottle.
Stuck head down at the neck,
in the bathroom floor trap.

Sink or float...
I can do neither.
 May 2016
Sally A Bayan
Movements and images seen, are a part
They take places...they take forms in the mind
Whether aloud...or done in silence
Like, the crowing of the rooster
Announcing,
The breaking of a new morning
Or, telling of an hour, or two, passing;
A smile, a frown....a falling leaf
Thunder, in the summer, with, or without lightning
After the rains, a rainbow appearing
A whisper of a refreshing breeze, getting cooler
When sun is about to set,
The humming of ACs in offices
At the start of work hours,
Dying...as day's activities, end
Lights fade...streaks slide in, through the blinds
Then, come all sorts and shapes of shadows,
Streetlamps  guide, in the waning light
Heels and soles rush against paved roads
Sounds crescendo....as all hurry, to reach home
While creatures of the night
Heroes...or anti heroes
Move comfortably...in the dark.

All these...feed the muse in me
Writing unknown names that befit a person
Or a situation
My head spills out adjectives that wonderfully,
Sometimes, weirdly, describe my, and others' emotions
Verbs and adverbs, tell of solitary actions and moments,
Or, when i am with company...loved one(s), or otherwise
And while creating...building up metaphors and similes,
More questions arise:

How does it feel, to see your fellow human beings suffer,
How their human rights are being violated?
The little ones, the innocent ones, are now, the ones subjected
To hunger and torture.....To be with, or, without conveniences
Is just a drop of a worry, in a huge barrel of unsolvable problems
When will all these running, and fleeing...seeking refuge, end?
How is it, when you and your loved ones are escaping death?
For life....without freedom...is almost death itself.

There are times,
When, my river is flowing with green and blue waters
So full of varying experiences...the truths co existing with us
Here, in this universe, which, some people say, is a blend of
Paradise...and Hell

Problem is
There also come the times
When i am sailing along the River Lull...and
None of these parts and figures of speech
Exist......


Sally


Copyright May 14, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
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