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 Aug 2015
Claudia Tara
It beats with the sound of whispering pages,
scrawling pens through passing ages.
With blood of ink that curls and flows,
in words or in symbols that nobody knows.
My paper heart that beats apart word by word in me.

Each beat is a chapter, each word so true,
Once Upon a Time It beat just for you.
It beats out now stories in it's leather case,
a soft, hard cage to keep the pages safe.
A paper heart that bleeds apart, not for eyes to see.

The ink is pain, the ink is love,
the ink is life, the ink is blood.
Hear my words, feel the ink,
judge my words. What do  you think
My paper hart that falls apart, so may it set me free.

Ink for blood, a paper soul,
a leather case, beats to a goal.
To let me live, every day
I need my heart, so leave it this way.

My paper heart right from the start
it's who I am, beats so I can
stay alive, and maybe thrive.

It beats, it bleeds, it falls apart.
My
Perfect
Patchwork
Paper
Heart.
 Aug 2015
Chris
~

Miles of nothing,
beige on beige on beige
The sun is screaming,
blistering my skin,
draining me slowly
as breath is heated
and tastes bitter
Shoulders slung low
I can’t stand straight,
bent over struggling,
nothing is anywhere
and nowhere is here

Leaving footprints
for the wind dancers,
black feather fathers,
winged circlers
High above, watching
sifting time
in weakened increments,
hourglass patterns of
falling granules
sinking deeper

Water is a dream
and this dream, a nightmare
for it is there,
just ahead, I can see it glistening
but it does not exist
nothing exists,
as the oasis in my mind
dries up, leaving
empty indentations
on horizontal planes, flat lands
of arid emotions
drifting in and out
reaching for…
reaching
It sure is hot here today.
 Jul 2015
DaRk IcE
Must it take an end to bring fourth sight?
Must it take pain to bring fourth light?
Must it take tears to bring fourth colours bright?
Must it take neglect to bring fourth fright?
Must it take lonely ness to bring fourth a forefilled night?
 Jul 2015
GaryFairy
because he is a successful man
because he wears a suit and tie
everybody, let's rally around
we should listen to that guy
-
-
-
because he lives in a cardboard box
because he just wants to die
everybody, let's look away
we should ignore that guy
 Jul 2015
Sarah Spang
Above, above, the sky is a painting
A renaissance piece that calls out for sainting
The billows, the ripples the silver-lined rims
Are strokes of a genius; of mother earth's whims.

The cumulonimbus, the rippling ceiling
Rumbles and rolls with the cracks that are pealing
The flickering tridents, the wrath of the gods
Strike awe in the temporary, tainted and flawed

And I, insubstantial, un-lasting and fading
Stand beneath hanging eaves, hearing and waiting
Beside me, within me, a childish voice
Hums a soft tune beneath all the noise:

The sky, the sky, it's all coming down
The indigo shroud; it's falling around
In crystalline spheres and mother earth's mist-
The dust is erupting, the earth feels its kiss.
http://www.gofundme.com/Sarahquil
 Jul 2015
David Adamson
Why do poets and photographers love fleeting things?
Angled shafts of sunlight piercing a mass
of clouds. A rainbow flashing from dragonfly wings.
Water drops beading like shards of glass.

The fluttering shape of a sycamore’s shade.
The sun sinking into its reflection
In a purple bay.  Smoke’s shadow. The rayed
Curve of a finger reaching for perfection.

Whatever churns, bursts, rocks, flies,
Foams, flickers, roils, evades
In pigments of impermanent dyes
We try to fix before it fades

Once I mourned the endless dying  
Of here and now, the present always past
Elegized each moment, sighing
Beauty is loss and can never last.

But now I think I had it wrong.  In fact
(I learned this from an artist’s eye)
Fleeting beauty reappears faster than we react,
At the speed of a daydream flashing by.

All around, light coalesces into form,
Form explodes into light,
And we live lavishly inside this storm
If we can learn to see it right.

Beauty multiplies, tapering, swelling:
Reshaping, reforming, now familiar, now strange.
This gaudy blur in which we’re dwelling
Is the permanence of change.
This is still a work in progress.  Comments very welcome.
 Jul 2015
Brain in a bottle
I'm up with the particals
Floating around on beams

My body's down there
Chained between the screams

Forever fading distant
My fallen memory

Which now
faster than the speed of light
comes flooding back to me

Though current course is full of bliss
a yearning pulls me back

The hearts of all i'll love and miss
derail me from bliss track

So i re-enter
between the screams
to don my chains once more

To battle through
these cold dark dreams
for those who i adore
 Jul 2015
Chris
~
Caught in a web that a spider is spinning
Counting his legs as I notice him grinning
Perhaps a dream that is just now beginning
I must be falling in love

Singing a song while the music is playing
Don’t know the words, I make up what I’m saying
Not really dancing but just sort of swaying
I must be falling in love

Running a race down a path that is bending
Seeking to finish, I know it is pending
Sweating so much it could be never ending
I must be falling in love

Chasing mosquitoes now constantly biting
Waving my arms like a windmill that’s fighting
Or like a group at a UFO sighting
I must be falling in love

Filling my cart with bananas while shopping
Cleaning the peels off the floor as I’m mopping
Sliding through red lights there’s no sense in stopping
I must be falling in love

Hitting a drum in a cadence that’s pounding
Played in a very nice rhythm, astounding
Just like a heartbeat in spring it is sounding
I must be falling in love

Writing a poem with words that I’m feeling
Every desire your beauty revealing
Asking your hand as I’m carefully kneeling
I must be falling in love

Now as I stare in your perfect eyes glowing
Feeling affection they’re constantly showing
Finding each day of my life I am knowing
With you I've fallen in love
 Jul 2015
David Hall
A better man than me would rise above his station,
sacrificing comfort for the bliss of separation.
Caring not for wealth or power,
finding his only joy in indignation.

A wiser man than me would know this was the hour,
to act upon his hopes for dreams,
even with his chances slim and outlook dour.

A braver man than me, would stand against oppression,
from the injustices of life that offer no concession.
Standing to demand restitution,
of his life that by right should be in his possession.

But I am just a man of a weaker constitution,
frozen by the scope of tyranny and greed,
shackled and enslaved by the chains of institution.

A better man than me would rise above is sorrow,
a strength within his heart, that his hope might chance to borrow.
Alas the day is lost with the setting of the sun
and I can only strive to be a better man tomorrow.
 Jul 2015
Ansley Popov
we cling to music, art, poetry, we are desperately afraid to be alone in this life and we search for something or someone who feels the same way we do, we want someone to explain the parts of ourselves that we cannot.
 Jul 2015
David Lewis Paget
They’d all been swept to the beach and left
Like flotsam, after the storm,
Some were alive and some were dead
In that tragic scene, at dawn,
Their ship was lying submerged out there
While its mast still graced the sky,
Its time was brief on that unmarked reef,
Out where its bones would lie.

While those who had been swept overboard
Into a foam-fleck’d sea,
Were helpless, dashed by the giant waves
On rocks that they couldn’t see,
They tore the flesh from the living bone
And  crushed the skull as they hit,
The sea was turning a muddy red
With blood that was lost in it.

Then when the tide had come churning in
With its charnel bodies and bones,
Above the roar of the rabid shore
You could hear the first few moans,
A sailor lay with a broken arm
Another nursing his head,
And there a woman, so frail of form,
Who certainly should be dead.

She lay with her skirt around her waist,
Her legs were a mass of blood,
Dragged and tossed on a needle rock
She’d suffered more than she should,
But though she moaned she had looked around
As the bodies came floating in,
‘Where are you Alan A-Dell,’ she cried,
‘To lose you now is a sin.’

But Alan A-Dell was still out there
The waves would pummel and pound,
He had no thought of the girl that called
As he floated there, face down,
The love they’d shared was a mystery
That had held them wrapt in awe,
But now had passed into history
As he floated in, to the shore.

And Carmel cried as the rising tide
Kept sweeping the bodies in,
For Alan A-Dell now lay beside
The lover that once had been,
She thought of the final words he’d said
As they both jumped into the waves,
‘I pray, if there is a God above,
That you are the one he saves.’

And so she wept as she beat his chest
And railed at the living God,
‘Why take half of a love away
When a love takes two, that’s odd.’
The sun burst suddenly through the clouds
And it made the water gleam,
As Alan A-Dell had spluttered once
His body and life redeemed.

They clutched each other that livelong day
Alone on that charnel beach,
Everyone else had died, they lay
Where living was out of reach,
The night came down on that lonely shore
With no-one to help or care,
So shivered into the early hours
When suddenly, God was there.

He hadn’t taken a single love
She’d said that a love takes two,
So looking down from his place above
He knew what he had to do,
And when they died in each others arms
With their hearts within them stilled,
A love was taken, not one, but two,
With his grace, their love was sealed.

David Lewis Paget
 Jul 2015
David Hall
you know the value of a word
and can place it with great care
you see colors in a rainbow
others wouldn’t know were there
you can find the silver lining
of the darkest thunder cloud
or make a grown man weep
when he reads your words out loud
you live your life wide open
wear your heart upon your sleeve
give your friends the gift of laughter
and console them when they grieve
you take all the pieces of a life
and use words to make the whole
if you're reading this right now
it means you have a poets soul
There are so many wonderful people and poets on this site, this is my thank you for being awesome poem.
 Jul 2015
C S
I know you.

Sitting behind a screen in your room,
Sipping in the shadows of a coffee shop.
iPhone, iPad, iAm "Anonymous".

The most dangerous word you can be labeled,
The most double-edged of weapons-
Anonymous.

You're never really as untraceable
As the cleared browser history says you are,
Never as untraceable as the chain of destruction you cause is traceable.

You're never really as invisible
As the checked box lets you think you are,
Never as invisible as the scars you direct a hand to make are visible.

One word can't be all that.
Anonymous can't be so dangerous.
Some clicks on a keyboard can't be so devastating.

There's a reason it used to be difficult to avoid responsibility.
Because responsibility for your words, for what you cause,
Is what allows you to see a few steps ahead.

Your signature is what allows you to learn from mistakes,
To vow after you've learned the hard way to think before you act.
To see that those words have two names attached to them now.

The writer, and the subject.
Two traceable, visible people.
Two hearts beating and breathing, now connected.

Anonymous constructs a wall between action and reaction.
It robs you of responsibility.
Yes, responsibility is a prized possession, there to teach and show.

Anonymous allows you to settle.
It robs you of the greater person you could become.
Yes, your future holds more than this, there beyond the wall of cyber bulling.

I hate that I was once Anonymous like you.
I hate that I unknowingly controlled the strings
Of a self-destructive marionette hand miles away.

But I don't hate you. Because I know you.
I know you are more than the mistakes you've made behind that screen.
I know you are more than Anonymous.

So prove it.
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