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 Oct 2017
victoria
Yes I'm a waitress-

Which doesn't mean I'm dumb
People skills are declining in need
But still you all come

I'm here 40 hours a week
Clean the restaurant before I start
Some days I feel ok
Most days I've a broken heart

Even though I'm cracked inside
And my fake smile wants to frown
I'll give a night you'll never forget
Face painted like a clown

You have no idea
in your one hour break
Or your 30th birthday
Which I will make great

That just last night
I received bad news
But I have to work still
I don't get to choose

I'm dying inside
but you'd never guess
Smiling my head off
Though my hearts in a mess

So next time you come
and I'm not the best you've had
Just remember I'm human
And I'm losing my dad
Like many I work long hard hours and have to smile through the cracks in my heart. Generally I'm treated well by the customers I serve, but there are times when I'm looked down on and some days it takes every bit of love in my body, to keep smiling at someone who is just ring mean
 Oct 2017
L B
Caught in the tangled, death of weeds
I hear the shots ring out
It has begun--
between the fading day of sky and hollow
crackling ice beneath my feet

Again, resounding shots above my head
with baying hounds
and threat of voices blazoning the prey
I do as I have always done--
make a run for it….
and always, in the past
I seemed to get away

My soul is sinking, this time
along with boots in ******* mud
-soaked panic-sweat
clambering up a bank in naked peril
numb with cold
Heaving breaths billow
onto frigid air
Stumbling sluggish
Moments cling
Inertia--
grapples for an edge...

With all my body's strength
exhausted longing
I heave myself back...

Fear floods out
like birth
into the lake of waking

A long time there
I lay
paralyzed, dumbfounded
My father used to take us with him trap-shooting in the open fields of Hatfield, Massachusetts.  We would huddle in the car and wait for it to end, but this day, I was exploring along the edge of woods before they started, and got caught out....

This is also about sleep-paralysis-- both terrifying!
 Oct 2017
Valsa George
It rained on and on.
The fire in the hearth
Had long died out.
Hunger grew,
Frustration raged.

Vultures swooped down
to feed on flesh.
Half willing, half resenting,
Surrendered, rather subdued,
Desires spilled over,
Bristles pricking
From ***** to *****
Thrusting and tearing
Devouring in greedy gulp

Waves surging past the log

Passion spent,
Hunger appeased,
Purse strings loosened,
Silver coins tinkled.

Amply paid,
Her wages of shame……
The toil not wasted!

The reel of Time unwound itself,
And the scenes, constantly replayed.
‘Exploring hands encounter(ed) no defense’.
Each day closed in ****** h(r) ut,
When the h(r) ut turned a ****,
She started to rot.

Feeble she grew,
Languid she became,
Body thinned,
Energy waned,
Ailments plagued,
And
Immunity lost!

Now,
She lives an outcast.
A wild flower
wilted by the wind!
A luscious fruit
blighted by the worms!
My sympathies are always with the marginalized and the exploited ! We could have been one of them, but fortune favored us ! This thought ever rules me !
 Oct 2017
CA Guilfoyle
I think it quite strange living here walled by this house
when I was wilder than now I lived in nature
stalking birds and pollen laden things
always my toes in sands or hot footed in summer.
I was in love with the sky, no matter the weather
in storms I hid beneath branching cedars
sleeping on mossy pillows, in the woods of my backyard.
I never gave much thought to houses then, I only went there
to sleep or eat and waited to leave again
waited for an inkling of sun to warm the cold grass
spent days climbing trees, red plums and cherries
I imagined that's how life would always be,
living outdoors under the sun or clouds
wet with rain, always picking flowers.
 Oct 2017
Akira Chinen
My eyes crack open
and my flesh is still hard
from the dream I was having
and your name falls from my mouth
like a prayer made of silk and sin
and my dead heart beats
once and twice
and bleeds at the cracks
and there's an echo in the abyss
where your love once raged
with the fury of a burning sky
painted with the colors of lust
dipped in the golden honey
made out of a stars blood
and an oceans  tear
and I can still feel the warmth
of the fire left behind
from every kiss
you every tattooed and bit
into the soul of my skin
and my whole body
is a burning effigy left hanging
on the cruel smile of the moon
that won't let me forget
how god ****** beautiful
your eyes use to glow
when you used to whisper my name
in slow syllables and long moans
as our bodies ******
on beds and floorboards
and carpets and couches
and over counters and coffe tables
and our hearts made love
far beyond the grace of heaven
and burned our names
in the secret corners of the universe
even the devil dare not go
and now all that is left
that I can do is pretend to love
and pray that forever
won't last as long
as you once promised
because without the sound
of your voice
or the touch of your love
I am nothing but a ghost
with a dead heart
waiting for his
broken fairy tale to end
 Oct 2017
Pagan Paul
.
A gemshorn and a mandolin
strike up counterpoint melodies,
as a harp and viola
caress the notes of a minuet.
Soft waves of music creep
around the joy of the Hall,
cuddling the fibres of granite stone
with a warming fire for all.

And she steps to the fore,
slippers of silk gliding so slow,
eyes as blue as robins eggs,
smile sweet as a full moons glow.
Hair laced with summer flowers,
a long dress of velvet green,
and the shawm she is ready to play
held lightly by fingers so keen.

Her tongue moistens shyly,
as the reed approaches her lips,
with fingers dancing over holes,
and deftly into a trance she slips.
Descending chords in choral hue,
drip colours into an aching heart,
the sweetest of mediaeval muses,
playing well her minstrels part.



© Pagan Paul (21/10/17)
.
Shawm, Gemshorn - mediaeval musical instruments.
.
 Oct 2017
wordvango
you know how after gesso-ing the canvas
you sit back,
take the largest brush you have
add some titanium white with the darkest blue
you can find
and attack that woven weave wanting to
make almost love to it
temper it with color
not knowing what result you are after
I do.
Then you see light spots shadows clouds
trees and fields ponds appear
a few geese white flying
just with a slight addition here and there
trees seem to believe they are real
shadows grow all from one tangent knowing
how that is real
when what you want
need to paint is more surreal.
And the perspective all the sudden changes
into third worlds
reality
I do.
I do know the almost uncontrollable urges of creativity.
I know the best selling colors.
I just faint to use them.
I get all wild.
 Oct 2017
Sarita Aditya Verma
19 th October 2016
**Writing happened overnight
Some pent up thoughts
Confused no where completely understood
Clarity and Connect
With self
The need to express well

Wrote the night whole
Out ,came The Soul '

Held defences high
Not wanting to break the shell
Some chapters always
Skipped
Escaped
Deleted
Never to be visited

Yet life can be strange and funny
However well planned
It takes it own course
Makes you read listen and understand
And learn those very lessons

The student in me
Awakened Anew

Glad to have found my words
Or maybe the words found me
The right tone for the inner voice
Well timed
No more confined


A protective family
Not a worry about the unknown(life)
Lessons unknown
Make you stronger
And our children(catalysts) bring in a greater sense of responsibility and learning

An unfinished piece in my mind
Leave it as it is
As  many more lessons to be learned


Thank you all for the connect, the motivation, inspiration and love .
Love peace and blessings to you all !!
Good morning/Good evening/Good night :)
My greetings to all .
 Oct 2017
Mel Kay
I love the way you are... so confidently you.

The way you know my deep blue soul and pretend I don't know you at all.

The way you refuse to see me and yet, time and time again, open the door.

It's the way you light my cigarettes that I adore.

The way you admit I am completely out of my mind and hold me sweetly as if to say you accept it unconditionally.

The way you love sad songs and share them with me.

The way you playfully point your guns at me when I spit fire.

It's the way you sing proudly out of tune that I admire.

The way you make Dad-jokes and chuckle at mine too.

I love the way you are...so confidently you.
A light hearted piece of love for you out there. Nothing special.
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