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 Aug 2015
Chris
~

In ode to all who succumb
through wayward passages
lined of scribble notes
dripping ink’s savagery,
staining cursive patterns
in Sylvia-like depressions

Jarred bells ring
down lost tunnels
around each dark corner…clang
from steeples we chase
and beds we lie
draped in sadness
and shapes of
poetic happenstance

Tear drop vinaigrette
spiced of leftover lifetimes
drizzled on leafy desperation
bids a tired farewell
before time collects
*the deserved rewards
 Aug 2015
Aztec Warrior
POEM 32

I wish falling in love
was as easy as writing a poem...
Wait,
what the hell are you saying Aztec?!
Poetry ain’t easy.
It’s messy,
it interrupts your sleep with word dreams;
it runs away when you get close;
every time you think you’ve
found the right words.
Poetry ain’t ******* easy!

Yeah, true
but when you do find the words
they fill the pages
with lilacs
and wild blueberries
and strawberry cream truffles;
they dance with the shadows
within you
and caress your lips with
butterfly whispers
when you read,
then re-read...

But love,
it’s fleeting illusion,
even if whimsical,
and leaves your heart
in shambled pieces,
especially
when it isn’t returned!

If you are honest,
a poem will always be with you.
Even if it ain’t ******* easy

Aztec Warrior 8.2.15
looking for the words
 Aug 2015
nivek
squawking while sitting in a tree , watching an outside event
on a massive screen.
I slowly take on the characters of a soap opera
all the bad bits that cannot deal with life.
So I flick over the channels to be mildly entertained
while the adverts are on, and come across a picture of myself
with the slogan beneath my beaming smile calling for the abolition of anything anyone wants for a full ten years, guaranteed to make your day.
the insane monkey graffiti
 Aug 2015
Aztec Warrior
POEM 37 (Inside Your Heart)

A man can tell
a thousand lies
and never blink.
But I say this:
my truth lies within
the bold sensitivities
of your beating heart.
Look inside and you
will feel the touch
of my warm lips
and know that,
like Neruda’s Isla Negra,
and its coconut sands,
I will carry you in my heart
and yearn for
“a thousand kisses deep”.

Aztec Warrior 8.2.15

(Note: must give credit to Poetessa,
as her poem on Leonard Cohen
chased me to hear him read his poem “A
Thousand Kisses Deep”. Hauntingly beautiful.)
 Aug 2015
Savannah Charlish
You only need your heart broken once
To be able to create a lifetime of poetry
 Aug 2015
brandon nagley
Im made more alive in death
                                      than in living.....




©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
 Aug 2015
brandon nagley
Inaccessible protuberance
Stroketh mine aortic valve;
Submerging in earthly liquid
Except made of dirt and ground.

Floating out of mine carcass now
Not looking on behind;
Keeping mine discernment forward
None more physical time.

Alm's I shalt leaveth all
As none here art meant for me;
I died a million years ago
Tis, I'm sick of falsehood belief's.

Planet EaRtH is made of them
As exemplum is now the "norm";
I wasn't born in some hospital
I was hatched by God's adorn.

From whence I've come
I'll returneth as one;
Wherein the cherub babie's sit
In the blink of the sun.


©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
i am the poorest of all the beggars
looking for love in all corners of these streets
if only i was the owner of this world
i want to buy just a single fraction of your heart
but love cannot be bought
so it is still useless even if i am rich*

©IGMS
Filipino Translation :
Mas mahirap pa ako kaysa sa mga pulubi sa
lansangan
Ninanais na mabigyan kahit kapiraso lang
na pagmamahal
Kung sana ako ang nagmamay-ari ng mundo
Nais ko sanang bilhin kahit kapiraso lang ng
puso mo
Pero hindi naman nabibili ang pagmamahal
sa mundo
Wala paring kwenta kung mayaman ako
 Aug 2015
poetessa diabolica
Baggage within
      trappings of illusions,
love packed away
  in neat little compartments
gathering cobwebs at
     makeshift improvisations,
dusting intermittently
      if by chance a light
           should shine,
never wholly untangling
    the snare
mid a labyrinth of
      transparent entrapment,  
as violin strings continue
      to unlatch the same old key
 Aug 2015
nivek
This is a feeble answer
each prisoner prisons us all
I cannot be who anyone else
wants me to be
so write your poetry
 Aug 2015
K Balachandran
Lone duck, bitten by an insane urge, turns and turns,
endlessly on water plane, creates a churn, a pattern on water,
as if to meet itself in a moment of stillness in between,
when will it happen? His life passes as that illusion still lasts.
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