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 Dec 2018
Gods1son
I just want to stay in my bubble
To cleanse from the worldly pollution
To dig deep within my soul
To discover the man that I am meant to be

I just want to stay in my bubble
To love me, not by spending on myself
Not by acquiring material things
But by appreciating my pristine spirit

I just want to stay in my bubble
To process my thoughts
To exhale my fears, doubts and worries
To infuse myself with strength, courage and zeal
 Dec 2018
Kim
Anyone can rhyme
Or hum a melody
But to lay your guts out on the table
For everyone to see
That’s what art is
That’s the soul
That's hunger, pain, and glory
As the artist tells their story
Living your truth
And telling it straight
Is what sets some apart
The secret of the greats
Stop fumbling with that metre
Don’t fret over the rhyme
Pour your soul onto the paper
Pull the tears from our eyes
 Nov 2018
Paul Hardwick
168 pages
just to find out
in the small print
there ain't no sanity clause
contracts we sell our lives
for what security of our lives
wives, kids, all the things dear
christmas is humbug
for there
Ain't NO Sanity Clause.

MAD I'm furious.

how did you find out?

Love's Merry Christmas.


Love P@ul.
No Christmas cards, please I had about all I can take.
 Nov 2018
Star BG
In a marriage of the heart
poet and reader bond.
A secret matrimonial oath
is taken.
It ties knot-like commitment
to express by writer
and be read at any time
as word landscape is presented.

Sometimes judgements fly
whereby reader can’t grasp poets vision.
Normal it is for growth.
Other times it’s like a honeymoon
where smiles and admiration flies,
Normal it is for evolution.

Today I
call to those who visit
and purpose you
join in union with me,
if even for a brief time.
Join
as we marry under a canopy of HP
Just thinking about relationship between reader and poet.
 Nov 2018
Dhia Awanis
The worst thing about losing someone to death is that
you didn't actually get that chance to pay your farewell

When they leave,
they just left

Suddenly, their brain refused to consume the oxygen,
their heart refused to pump the blood to the veins
It was almost felt like all those organs and cells had conspired together and finally come to their final conclusion

There will be days when you feel like grieving
and mourning over them are as normal as breathing

And it's okay,
it's okay

No one will ever get over death of loved ones easily
mostly because the "what if"s and "if only"s that follows,
Because the most painful goodbye
is the ones that never got the chance to be said
i miss you Grandma. if i could only turn back the time, i'd love to hug you tighter that night. for one last time
 Nov 2018
Paul Butters
Armies of words gather in my head
To march so boldly onto the page.
They work their wonders
Who knows how?
Why they pick me as their channel
For their landing craft
I’ll never know.

Some accident of birth:
Genetic fluke –
For which I take no credit –
Makes me nectar to these ants
That line themselves into verse.

Compulsion drives me to write
As salmon must jump those water falls
To return to their spawning grounds.

I have to speak, or rather type:
Express myself
No matter what,
Whether good or bad.

Is there a cure for this affliction of mine?
Can I ever stop myself from writing?
I very much doubt it.

Paul Butters

© PB 16\11\2018.
A congenital affliction.
 Nov 2018
Paul Hardwick
Remember
the good life you had for years
when it turns upside down
Don't let it.      Get you down
think of those that are the same as you
hold them dear today
hug's and kisses
I've been through April showers
winds that blow so cold
standing in the road
directing traffic to the places to go
and turn there mind's upside down
in doing so.


P@ul. ***.
Love me the P@ul.
 Nov 2018
Poetic T
We live in silence for two moments,
for those who fell silent long ago.

For there sacrifice is  every breath
Where now  gifted with today.

Every name is woven in the fabric
Of our lives, never to forget the past.

When red petals fell, and so many
Did, there was silence for moments.

The past is a tribute and a lesson of
what must be learnt and not repeated.
 Nov 2018
Poetic T
A penny on the floor,
          costing more than life.
          For those who pick up luck
          
have run out tonight.

A penny on the floor,
            where others shoes now
            collect before curious gazes.

                            its cold out tonight.

A penny on the floor,
            the last thing you see,
                     is it heads or tails.
                
       The breath of another falling.


Curiosity is never a gift when its obvious.
                For a penny is never fallen in jest.
                              every one cost something.

Tonight its your life,
Tonight its your life,
Tonight its your life.....
 Oct 2018
Paul Hardwick
Dropped my mind
into my mother's mangel
Slushpuppy
my empty head went on
thought of things I did not know
or never said
leavers move rocks
rocks roll


Brain freeze

P@ul.
L O V E    P@UL
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