Amazing Bliss - Hello Poetry

Jun 2017

Sk Abdul Aziz

The morning rays of the sun
The freshness of the air
The sweet taste of your lips
The intoxicating smell of your body
Playing with your beautiful hair
Looking deeply into those ocean blue eyes
Watching you blush
Listening to your sweet voice
The perfect start to the day.....
I wish i get to experience this every single day of my life

Jun 2017

beth fwoah dream

love poem...where night is...

"where night is....a stream of stars or a star-lit oak"

i seem to move with
leaves, smooth as a prayer
mat with its oranges and
golds,
tangled like the rhythms
of a blues band
in the decadence of the heat,
and yet i fade, a stream
of stars, a rain drop shivering
to the floor,
the ghosts of the stars are
all of the night sky,
the blacks of the sky
hypnotic as the dark
tide of my mind,
my love for you
is like threads from this
bare prayer-mat, worn
thin and yet caught in
the tatters, i love like
a worn out bear, i love
until i can't think of
anything except you,
attracted like a papery
moth to the moon.

#loving #you

Jun 2017

Renee Danielle

for my mother

my mother is both my stagehand
and my audience.
when the stage lights burn out,
she will be there to drive the darkness
back into the corners.
when the flimsy backdrop crumbles,
she will build a new world for me
while cleaning up the ruins of the old.
she will wipe the exaggeration from my face,
and still applaud when I am myself.

my mother is both the moon and the sun.
her voice brightens the cloudiest days
and her laughter is a warm embrace.
out of all of the stars in the galaxy,
she is the one that keeps me alive.
when the day comes to an end,
and all I can see is night,
she will pull back the waves
when I feel like I am drowning.

my mother is everything.
she is the water that nourishes these roots.
she is the reason love grows
from this family tree.

Jun 2017

PrttyBrd

The Melodious Reconstitution of Biddy

There was music in his voice
as he whispered his name in ancient tones
straight through my core

My spirit danced
as it basked in familiarity
and pain

I could feel the music reconstitute
a desiccated heart
as it regenerated belief in people...in him

In an instant, I knew what I was once sure of
I knew that, sight unseen, I was bonded
with a soul born in tandem

Circumstance be ******
there will be love
for I already loved you

The second your name sung to my essence
and I realized...

you loved me

52917 ©

Jun 2017

SøułSurvivør

believe

~~~=<♡>=~~~

In the morning of a
Breezey mauve-pink air
in the peace in a time of silent prayer
in the breath of a
newborn child's sleep
there are memories
we will always keep

when a mother first holds her child
in the strength of a mustang
running wild
in the hush of an ocean's
silent depths
there are memories
We will never forget

eagles fly
and soar on lofty wings
infants cry when their
time of life begins
seedlings grow
from the fall of gentle rains
these are things we know
but can we fully explain?

in the rise of a harvest moon
in the scent of a rose
in fullest bloom
in the grace of a
dancer's swirling form
then our senses make us
glad we're born

in the flames of the setting sun
in softness of night that's
just begun
in the lights of the pinpricked sky
there are times we pause
to think and ponder why?

breezes blow
and yet are never seen
there's a mind
that can only think a dream
can you touch the light
of falling stars
these are things we know
but can we prove they are?

in the roar of a breaking wave
we are kept from the
cradle to the grave
we may know
in our last and final hour
a loving and

ALMIGHTY POWER

soulsurvivor
4/21/2009

~~~=<♡>=~~~

a song

~~~=<♡>=~~~

#senses #life #god #death #nature #questions #almighty

Jun 2017

K Balachandran

Between two spells, I lose gravity's pull.

Alone in the jasmine scented balcony,
letting oily darkness rub all over me
( sensual ointment to subdue my ****** unease)
my heart was full of echoes of  beloved moon
(which one of them would appear soon
to wash me in the copious shower of love)

In a moment she appears in a resplendent gown
making darkness melt and dissolve,
clambering up the stairs to get near me,
one moment earlier, she can

As she, my woman, like a new moon
was about to wield  her spell on me,
with wonder I see the full moon herself
clad in her diaphanous gown of fluffy clouds.

She comes up on the stairs of a mountain,
one by one, spilling the brilliance of her heady spell,
all over my lovelorn tantalized being.

Between the spells of two beloved moons
tell me , how could I not lose gravity
I swim  in the sweet sea of an ecstatic swoon

To all those inveterate lovers of the moon,with love...

#spell #swoon #moon #love #ecstasy #spill #diaphanous #fluff #cloud

Jun 2017

Ma Cherie

the brightest blue of yonder

lovely lil song bird,
singing me asleep,
so early in the morn still,
an tho it not too deep,

I drift away so sweetly
dawn dripping through the sky,
I ask again for sweet rest
to rest my weary eye,

unburden me with slumber,
at least I shall not think,
while closing lids of tired,
I wait again to blink,

until I reach my dream state,
where often dreams are good,
an I would gladly come back,
as often as I could,

I enter through a doorway,
a skylit hole for key,
the brightest blue of yonder
is beckoning to me,

I reach inside my pocket,
pull out the key I found,
but sadly in a second,
I hear it hit the ground,

I sigh with deepest sadness,
a devastating sound,
unfortunately I can't find it,
on here this type of ground,

biblical stacks of my hopes,
in virtually a sea
covering the Earth there,
eye-dentical the keys,

awakening
my mind,
to the infinite possibilities
we are offered daily,
so I pick one-

an I wake up.

Ma Cherie © 2017

Idk...lol

#dream #possibilities #poetry #choices #mindseye

Jun 2017

beth fwoah dream

love poem

"where night is....sinking like
a sorrowful cloud or a bird of stone"

where the roses
sigh
and the honey
of your lips
melts me like
a furnace,

i burn
dreaming of roses
and skies fallen
in me like
ink pools,

i love the
angles of your
face,
the flow
of your hair,

melancholy
moods like
clouds
painted on
canvas,

love, my
bones dying
song, my
ribs like an
elephants
grave yard,
pressed to yours
drowned out
by emotions
like desolate clouds,

if i kiss you again
i'll fall down
liquid as the land
sky portrait
of blue,
against the sculptured
wall,
you know you
want me more,

as i glide, the
free girl,
how free you
make me feel
as i sink
in
the night.

just a short note to tell you my poem spring tide has been published recently in the spring addition of Equinox Zine which can be purchased at the website Issuu. only 50 copies available.

#loving #you

May 2017

beth fwoah dream

love poem....where night is.....

"where night is....a boy of
steel"

i've been missing
my heart
sweet boy,

as if the core
of me
was never
there,

blue icicles
like rain drops
that once burnt
like a dying star,

stolen from you
because no
sea could hold
it back,

because it
only wanted love
and some people
just can't take
something that genuine,

and this is what i've
said, so let me now say
that i have now got it back

and my love will never
be held from you again,
my heart burns

with a poem's fire
and for you my love,
grey shore that i reach,

song of the leaves melting
in light and shadow,

and i do melt for you,
the dream of you,
your presence

the chill of my
back bone, the
thrill of my mortal
heart,

love, the swift
bird hanging like
a hammock to
the sky,

love, the only
conceivable way

play with me,
boy of steel
where summer
cries at our
molten bones

centuries of sky
sip forgotten
landscapes,

play with me,
lover, and i'll
love you
the way you wish
to be loved.

#loving #you #neruda #inspired

May 2017

Pagan Paul

Little Black Book

.
Would you like to take a look
in the covers of my little black book?
Would you like to see if you are there,
and if not, would you really care?

Would you like to scan the pages
of my lovers through the ages?
Would you seek to find your name,
and if not, should I be ashamed?

Would you like to read the index,
and see what my preference reflects?
Would you like to peek and find
the comments I write, and of what kind?

I am sorry but you will never see
the yellowed pages of my history.
It's best that what will be, will be.
My book retired when you chose me.

© Pagan Paul (24/05/17)

.

#poetry #book #history #wishfulthinking