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 Jul 6
Bekah Halle
Poetry should  be taught —
But it's better to be tried.

Poetry can be taught;
But it's better to be lived!
Do you agree?
 Jun 15
Bekah Halle
The coffee dripped
Into my mouth,
little droplets of life;
The rich, dark roast
Layered my tongue
Like velvet;
So sensual —
I could wrap it around my shoulders like
Helen’s, my Nan, foxy-red fur coat,
From the 1920’s and 30’s,
I am back there with her now —
With each drip,
And the zoot, zoot, zip
Of the trumpet
Bleating out
As dancers flapped about.
 May 26
Carlo C Gomez
Slice where you live like pie
--this piece of heaven,
you and your cream-filled sky.

Cappuccino sweet-talk,
every dream includes a bit of sleep-walk,
the taste of last summer
floats belly-up in your cup.
 May 22
Joanna Alexandre
The poet not in love
Is the violin never heard
The sunrise never seen
And the water never felt.
The fires never lit
The birds never in flight
The lips never touched
The meaning never found.

The poet not in love is
The journey never taken
The path never walked
The guitar with no strings
And the painter with no canvas.
The parent to no child
The treasure never discovered
The book with no beginning
The story with no reason.

The poet not in love is silent
And what a useless thing to be
As a poet.
 May 14
Bekah Halle
It's dark when I get up
To write poetry.

Who is awake too?

It feels so solitary,
But words are my comfort;
Or are they my tools?

We wangle together, wrapping each other up.
But I am no-one’s fool,
The ones that ain't got bite
Lie dormant in my mind's eye.

Potency propels prompting forth
And when I'm done, I sigh…


Relief.
 May 11
Unpolished Ink
Poems are not toothpaste,
you cannot squeeze another from the tube at will,
bend the ends of words for one last drop,
inspiration comes in waves
and when it wants to do so, it will stop,
you cannot pick a constant crop,
there are times when the field lies fallow
hiding seeds which may or may not grow
if and when they flower
that is not for us to know,
poets feed on what they find
the harvest of a fertile mind
 May 10
Bekah Halle
Are all our words
enchanting works
of witches--
We wield them into submission
while we drink
from others'
intoxicating feasts
of fruits;
blood, sweat, tears from the gloom
And words hidden in remission?
FULL DISCLOSURE: I am not a witch, nor am I really saying we are, but I hope you get the concept behind it?! If there is a better word, please share.
 Apr 29
Bekah Halle
Deep darkness, despair.
How could you know, you’re not there?
Empty mind I crave,
But constant chatter takes me to the grave.

Fleeing, running; working, studying, drugs, and stuff,
Distractions from revelation; I am enough.
Progress is prized; the final nail,
We need true clarity; the holy grail.

Opening out and up to the mystery unknown,
Here, flourishing can become our own.
Insights of the true us,
Found when there’s nothing, no sound, no ***...

Embracing loneliness can be the pearl sought,
Moving away from things ought,
Turning to the unknown,
Is where true dreams are sewn.
 Apr 27
Bekah Halle
and that's what I just
don't get
what makes a poem move?
make someone wet?

I try to be deep,
To be funny,
I try to be whimsical
And visceral so that you can taste honey.

Sometimes I rise,
Many more times, I collapse.
There are pages upon pages I despise,
bored with them, perhaps?


but...

Is it the outcome,
or is it the process?
Does that make poetry?

Help me, please…

Compelled to make sense?!
Whimsical musings… need to get ready for work!!!
 Mar 4
Bekah Halle
God is love. 
God created man and woman to love one another, 
You and I have a choice,
But we live in a fallen world, where your choice might not align with God's will, but He still loves us.
God calls us to love one another as He has loved us
We are to unite, not divide. 
To love, not to hate. 
To encourage, not discourage. 
To help those less fortunate than oneself. 
To give hope to those who need it
To pray at all times. 
God is sovereign, but he uses us to be His hands and feet...
I am not the healer, God is, but I can be a vessel for His healing love here on earth through relationships
...
And through poetry?!
 Feb 12
Lizzie Bevis
Your fingerprints linger
on my coffee cup,
while the swirling latte foam
soothes me with each sip,
reminding me how much
you hold my mornings
together.

©️Lizzie Bevis
Coffee is life
Especially in the morning
 Jan 1
Dez
Over coffee I saw the world
Over coffee I saw troubles
Over coffee I saw secrets unfurled
Over coffee I saw the impossibles

Over coffee the day broke
Over coffee the day did pass
Over coffee the day moved the slowpoke
Over coffee the day was forecast

Over coffee one can think
Over coffee one can work
Over coffee one can drink
Over coffee one can make artwork

Over coffee I made love
Over coffee I made a kiss
Over coffee I made a paper dove
Over coffee I made this
So many things to do
And no better way to do them
Then with a cup of coffee in your hand
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