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 Jun 2018
Lahkeesha Ghastin
She sits rather still, stitching her loom
shackled and bound to the whispering room
While the walls shutter speeches
she slouches then reaches,
her stitching resumed.

Threads of silk pool in spools
cast to the floor
Hushing the voices
as they pour

the voices repeat their crippling phrase
dancing the space
bound to their maze
Not sure. I've been editing it for awhile and I give up.
 Jun 2018
Edmund black
It’s

                             Never

                              Okay

                                To

                           ­    Treat

                              People

                                Like

                         ­      They

                                Are

                           Disposable
One Love , One Heart ,One Earth                              ONE

                                     ONE

                                     ONE

                                        
 Jun 2018
Elizabeth Squires
self importance he did relish
therein lay a swollen ego
was inflated of embellish
all this being held as a cargo

therein lay a swollen ego
so monumental the extent
all this being held as a cargo
of the largest conceited tent

so monumental the extent
it could not be denied at all
of the largest conceited tent
he finding joy in his own thrall

it could not be denied at all
ever putting one's self up first
he finding joy in his own thrall
was no shown quelling of the thirst

ever putting one's self up first
all this being held as a cargo
was no shown quelling of the thirst
therein lay a swollen ego
 Jun 2018
chris
expectations
had
    neither
               closed her heart or ruined her spirits.


     so             she could
              n              o              t
        l
   ­             e
                        t
                        ­    her life
                 again,
                           be    limited.
.
 Jun 2018
Sally A Bayan
No one else, but a poet...can bring colors
to scenes...with verses, in crass or subtle
tones......gather words together in lines,
uncertain in their ebbing and flowing...
the results create surprise in many
hues that could make one cry,
grimace......frown......or smile

readers are led to far, or near
destinations...to the cool, sweet air
and peaceful atmosphere of paradise,  
or, to unlit corners...uncharted waters,
or deep into an abyss...or, a black hole,
an unknown corner, where moribund souls
are biding their time, maybe, they could
now define by themselves, purgatory and hell,
understand those sunken souls who have lost
all...except their arms, and begging eyes...
then, through appropriate words,
a poet paints a laborious path, or
a stairway...so an enlightened reader
may climb back to safe, calm waters...

a poet makes the mind see a human heart,
beating in many rhythms...throbbing,
.......aflame with longing and desire,
bursting from ecstatic, sublime moments,
then, later on,  shift to grayish thoughts
that cut deep....tormenting...crashing,
............gnashing the heart...
a poet paints a soul walking on cloud nine,
later, to dip feet in celebrative pools.

sometimes, a poet would rather not, yet,
an inner force prevails, thereby paints a
drooping soul...dying, in total surrender,
ready to fall..............but, again, with a
barrel of lively-colored words,  a poet
takes this despondent soul to berth,
with soothing verses, bring it to a rebirth...
every human being is worth an effort
..............even those that have fallen
.........................are worth savin' .....

a poet's palette is uniquely
enriched with colorful experiences,
a poet paints life in its truest colors,
..........could be dark...or bright
.....nothing more......nothing less...





Sally

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
    January 29, 2017
 Jun 2018
Carina
Lying embedded in velvet gloom and night,
You and I are gazing up the northern hemisphere.
Within the sea of darkness is the stars' stained light.

Hidden inside the fabric of interstellar space,
Might be a kind of universal truth
That answers all the questions of human race.

Sensing the pull of the universe
I feel like we're lost between the infinite vastness
That none of us could ever dream to traverse.

Suddenly you get up on your knees -
Head in the sky and feet on the ground.
“Perhaps the stars only made us feel lost,
because we both wanted to be found.”
Maybe we all are just waiting to be found:)
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