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 Jul 2017
Born
We must always struggle to rescue ourselves
 Jul 2017
Nishu Mathur
The sky oft becomes dark and thunders
there are clouds as grey as can be
but behind those clouds waits the sun
quietly and patiently

of course it will rain and pour
clouds will rumble, clash  and roar
but they will not forever last
those dark clouds will come to pass

these clouds are not just rimmed in silver
look up close, with hope behold
for those black threatening clouds
are lined with the brightest gold
 Jul 2017
Traveler
She says
She sees darkness
In my words
A tent of rage
Abandonment, desert
Missing pieces
Of my being
Yet I'm not quite sure
What she's seeing

Perhaps my muse
Is somehow confused
And third eye blind am I
'Cause the things that lurk
Within my darkness
Are whats keeping me alive
....
Traveler Tim
That would be the lovely Cne' (-;
 Jul 2017
Ramin Ara
Appear
As
You
Are
Be
As
You
Appear
 Jul 2017
Pagan Paul
.
'No man is an Island'
Maybe not true my Dear friends.
Perchance in general, contact is good.
But take a good look.
There are many Islands in the emotional ocean
with closed harbours and sealed ports.
Refugees of romance; Tortured traumas;
Insane individuals; Mental mercenaries;
Each one a lonely star,
a pinprick of light, disconnected,
on a girdle of the sky,
protected by a carapace of experience,
cold, distant, drifting further from the source,
in a race for consolidation and annihilation.
Islands of safety become Isles of danger.
Selfishness; Self-hate;
Self-perpetuating; Self Destruct;
The inward circle and downward spiral
cloaking the Island, shielding its existence,
shunning the continents of integration.
So can it be true my Dear friends,
no man is an Island?


© Pagan Paul (28/06/17)
.
I wish I could remember how to swim! PPx
.
 Jun 2017
Mateuš Conrad
i could almost swear i was loosing
sorry... losing my mind
   over this, well, phenomenon -
  and it only exists in english -
                   the remnants of latin -
and the lack of germanic "barbarism",
    i thought i turning dyslexic
   for a while...
        but as it turns out,
                cemetary - isn't akin to cemetery -
teerful, tarry - tomato in english
         and ta-may-tah in american english...
   the **** is australian english?
            to-mah-toh in english -
   **** me, american linguistic encoding
  is so much simpler...
                          and faster done -
but now i know why i transliterate
               certain letters in certain words...
     transliterate, right? i'm being spot on
with regards to a proper descriptive noun?
    latin?
    oh sure, i blame the existence of
   graphemes (siamese diacritical
    quadruplets), æ & œ -
let call the former pair adam & eve,
   and the latter oedipus & epicaste,
   we ******* need the german ß at some point,
i'm not saying all the time...
      but come on, poetizing?  looks ugly
even if you don't have the zing,
  but the sing in the spelling...
       poetißing... ah, that's better (not really);
but at least i know
                 why i sometimes make spelling
mistakes... the remnant of the latin art
                        of writing graphemes,
a bit like uv (not ultra-violet)
           as in:    when asking to chisel a word
into stone, where v actually implied u...
             so why did the "lazy" ******* not
bother trimming the other curves in other
letters?
                you'd probably see runes...
     e.g. when R became ᚱ,
                               and B became ᛒ...
                           and S became ᛋ...
that's what i'm saying, they were "lazy"...
   and a shitload of cow... ****...
       poured over poor U.
 Jun 2017
K Balachandran
I am the warm lips of sun, that kiss your dew drenched petals,
when you in self oblivion try to embrace, I've gone faraway,
playing  with love struck clouds, dancing, their slips flying,
I am the fire making your body burn with desire,slyly planted

I am the wind, licking pollen off your stamen softly, making you
want me to do that more, sowing goosebumps all over
I am the movement of desire, moving through that time of the day
languid in mornings,spreading fervor at noons and in darkness
coils like a serpent that searches for burrow to snuggle in til dawn

Flow of water am I, that carries you along easily throughout,
you could ease in to me, I am the bed and the fingers caressing,
in my dreams you are the  sneaking fingers of my naughty lover,
in you are my ablutions, my fire is quenched  by your  flows.
I ooze,fluids of many scents sometimes a sprouting spring.
I trickle with  pleasure, lubricate,cross one level to the other.
                                               (C)
 Jun 2017
Ma Cherie
"If enlightenment
is what you wish to attain
you must give away happy
an replace it with pain"

Ma Cherie © 2017
It is true- but still. Ugh Buddhist studies just reflection
 Jun 2017
Cné
Breathe the bright moments in life
and hold them nearby.
Let them go gently as you would
release a butterfly.

Let love come to you
as a soft summer breeze.  
Let it find you in a quiet moment
under a shade of trees.

Love will return in perfect passion.
Grasp passion with both hands
and hold onto it
until you have wrung
all the heat from it
you can.

Then release it as a sigh
of contentment.
Savor the perfect moment in life
but dwell in every remnant.

Life, love, passion & contentment
come to us all, friend ...
but they stay with those
who appreciate them.
Idk... just appreciating life.
 Jun 2017
phil roberts
There is a myth
Allied to moonlight
Chased into darkness
Morning rising too soon
Smelling delicate dew
Cupped in newly opened blooms

A million micro worlds
Falling and crawling
Within the vast and yearning
Rolling and turning
Moralities and madness
Beliefs and blasphemies
Who says which is life?

But for myself I doubt
Purity disturbs me and
Righteousness makes me nervous
For all life is truth
Whether in sky or on earth
And in each myth
We live and die

                                    By Phil Roberts
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