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 Jan 2015
Carolin
Under the pink sunrise sky.
I glance to the side and see your face. Puffed clouds I call your cheeks. Eyes brighter than the morning star.

She heard his shy heart beat with joy from within his chest. You remind me of the sky's colour every time your cheeks blush and turn rosy red. Your made of different shades of handsome. That cause mother nature to pause for a while and bow down to the beauty of you. Would you mind dear if i come closer and sit beside you. Would you mind if we hold hands and admire this beautiful view as we curl our toes in the golden coloured sand

My soul lusts for you.
The spirits flow between us, wondering how a love this pure could exist.
Vivid images of two hearts with strings.
The blood flowing in harmony.
Heartbeats in sync.
The waves gently wet our feet.
I rest your head on my chest.
"I'll keep you safe", I say.
"I'll hold you near, I'll love you, dear"

She sighs as she feels the shivers descend down her spine. While his hand reaches for her thigh. "You're mine" he whispers in her ear as a tear makes its way down his cheek. The sound of the heartbeats she hears makes her oh forever want to keep it as a memory in the back of her brain and bury it deep down in her thin shy veins. It sounds like a beautiful melody with the sounds of harps and violins playing in the back round. "Oh please hold me tighter if you don't mind. I would like to experience the feeling of you being mine too." Collect seashells with me before the sunsets down. Tell them how much you love me and give them back to the sea". "Hold on love before we go let me wipe your crystal like looking tears. We should give them over to the riptides. For they hold stories that i believe should be read by the mermaids living on the other side of this beautiful sea that's if you don't mind" she said


I thank the atoms that arranged to make you.
The millions and millions of cells.
the sun in the sky gives tribute.
In your sparkling eyes it dwells.
Phonetics don't give you justice.
Words of passion fall thin.
Let your eyes speak to mine.
Spill rivers of gold and tin.
Hold on to me and let's shine.
Shine with all stars within* ~
Him in italics
Carolin in bold
It's our first collaboration together. It was the most beautiful experience in the world to write a lovely poem with him :)
 Dec 2014
PrttyBrd
I* choose
to believe
in the *best
parts
of **me
12114
10w
 Nov 2014
Just Melz
You,
who used to touch me where I didn't want you to, reaching inside me, where I'd *never
let anyone before, I was only eleven, I shouldn't of been treated like a *****...
   I hate you

You,
who took advantage of me, when I was just thirteen, taking what innocence and trust that I had left, breaking my spirit down to an empty shell...
   I hope you rot in H£LL

You,
who just watched what they did to me, judging me, saying it's my fault for dressing slutty. I was only fourteen...
I hope I'm never like you

You,
who made me believe I was not a used rag doll, gave me trust and hope, only to reach my sixteen year old core, then ripping it all to shreds like never before...
I'll never forgive you

You,
who said you loved me, made me think it was the real thing, helped me forget the past, at only eighteen, you gave me my wings and hope that it would last, then when you realized I just wasn't enough, you went and found some different lust, at twenty-five, you decided you wanted a new life,  but our kids mean the world to me, so I can't regret you, but I can erase your memory...
I hope she cheats on you

You,
who finally made me think I'd found the real thing, then broke me down, then picked me up just to throw me down again, over and over, then used the fragile remaining shards of my heart to cut out my soul and leave me falling apart...
I wish you nothing but pain and despair

You,
who I laugh and joke with now, who I wish to know more, who makes me scared I'll end up with a broken heart like before, who seems to truly care...
Please, don't forget how fragile I am
        
You,
who I may or may not have met yet, don't hurt me, don't make me regret. I won't be able to handle losing another, I wanna be happy with you, I wanna know forever...
**I hope you'll love me too
I've never written about a few of the things mentioned in this, it was quite difficult for me, Tbh.  Feedback would be greatly appreciated.  
Thank You.
 Oct 2014
Sia Jane
I'm made of all;
The books I've ever read
Poems I've ever written
Faces who have smiled at me
Hugs that have wrapped around me
Caresses that have graced my inner thigh
Countries & continents my feet have touched
The lovers as we simultaneously reach ecstasy within
Lonely nights shedding tear drops
Nights gazing black skies moon & stars
Children falling asleep to my heartbeat
Animals whose soul was found through reflective eye stares
Conversations spoken in French, Spanish, Italian, Xhosa, Afrikaans, Norwegian, German
Years of ******-, cognitive-, dialectical-, art-, drama-, music-, mindfulness-, trauma-, psychiatry-; therapies
The drinks & drugs & mind altering substances dispersing my mind
In all I'm made of;
Love
Lust
Greed
Fear
Joy
Freedom
Longing
Dreams
Despair
Sadne­ss
Anger
Frustrations
Happiness
Anxieties
Insecurities....

In all I'm made of;

A soul; securely contained within a body of battled scars;
over;
pain & triumphs, losses & gains, rejections & acceptances, dishonours & accolades...

With the hope; she too, can live life through.

© Sia Jane
Written at 1.53am
 Oct 2014
anonymous999
being a mother
is not about
making bread
and dinner every night

being a mother is about trying to understand
and not gossiping to your friends about my bad choices when i broke up with the boy who
i decided
was not right for me

and believing me
when i told you
that i had an eating disorder
that my brothers constant jokes about my weight had not helped
(i could hear you say to my father, 'but bulimics lose their teeth')

being a mother
is about
being there
when im in the kitchen crying and i know that you can hear me
but you do not come out
being a mother is about hearing the tinge in my voice
when i say that i honestly don't know when i will be ready for school
and the day
and not accusing me of attitude
but hearing that i am struggling
being a mother is about
supporting me
and not telling me that you're waiting for my next mental breakdown
and that im foolish for taking on so much
and trying to do well
because you think i can't do it
well
then maybe i can't do it

but you have failed
a mother's essential job is to help their children conquer the world
and you are not helping
it's mother's day tomorrow
but i do not want to celebrate
i'd say that i'm sorry
but i'm not

happy mother's day
 Sep 2014
r
i still try to remember
to take my boots off
at the door

my feet are wet
from walking in the rain

i leave laetoli footprints
on the pine floor
-like the first man

trying to walk upright
but can't seem to
get it straight

There's a lot of empty space
in a house
so full of quiet

wishing for thunder.

r ~ 9/5/14
\¥/\
  |     •
/ \
 Sep 2014
Nat Lipstadt
Past the green copper bell-ed,
Thru the the single trees, un-felled.

Do you see that solitary-sentinel chair,
Empty? No, not.
Can you not see the sweep,
The vista, the poems hanging about,
Ripe for the plucking from the quiet,
Nestled in the soil, on the wings of gulls,
Who do not fly, but let the wind keep them
And their cargo, standing-still, in place,
Awaiting my attention, my need.

You read less and less,
The more and more I write.
It's ok, I understand that.
Blessed to have found the spot,
Where the poems make a crowd,
And the giving is good and healing, easy.

A long as there be ten righteous,
The Lord acceded to Abraham's plea,
***** would not be destroyed.
I am less demanding,
For I am just human.

As long as but five,
Acknowledge the caring,
Lick my wounded words like vanilla,
Is that too much to ask?

If but one finger points and marks it
Read, is that not sufficient to let this
Battle be ended, tween ego and truth,
Pride of craft, and, weak craving for attention-no-deficit?

If it be, that only the sea grasses, rooted deep, sway,
On the beach, a few feet from where, the chair spends its days,
Clap their hands silently to
Acknowledging the harvesting of the words,
That too will be noise enough to satisfy
The Lord who tendered them, all this, to me
For safe keeping, and giving me no choice but to write,
If but to honor all words, and their creators,
Each and every one.


See my photo, to better undertstand...
Writ a year ago, when I picked poems from the air, there for the taking like fallen fall leaves that decorate the world, this September   chilly and chilling Monday...bless y'all for liking this so much...really physically and mentally blocked, for many reasons so I repost the old ones when appropriate...
 Aug 2014
Paula Lee
Ashes to ashes and dust to dust
Call this assurance if you must;
But when it's time to say Farewell
To one you love, it's just plain hell.

There are no words, no healing balm,
To fill the void, to ease the calm;
And not a thing that one can say
Will drive the quick hot tears away.

We look upon the empty chair
And seek the one no longer there;
And so heartbreaking is the pain
We question if we'll meet again.

How grim indeed, if death should be
The Bitter End--- Eternity;
Just some vague dream conceived by Man
And not a part of any plan.

But God has taken such great care
To note the sparrow in the air;
His Love alone can cover all
And Mark a simple Sparrows' fall.

And if he cares for the birds that fly,
then he must hear My Anguished cry;
"Dear God, I yield my grief to Thee
For Thou alone can comfort me."
To Everyone who is struggling with Grief
 Aug 2014
Sasha Ranganath
Just like an angel
She breathes with infinite grace
But in fallen flames.
 Aug 2014
i s a b e l l a
b&w
Love is not colorful.
Love is black and white.
My tears are blue,
the blood I bleed is red,
my bruises purple,
my envy green.
All these feelings
are technicolor,
demanded to be seen;
felt.
Love sends your mind into a
black out.
Love is just passion fading from
white to grey.
Love is just a blank page;
the light from heaven.
Living is colorful.
Loving is death.
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