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Watercolors
Gouache
Colored pencils
I miss my notebook
The one I made
Holding my earrings
He has cried with me, maybe
Looking at the sky
Can't see my feet
Passing through the trees
Remembering no one's eyes
The cars are big
Can't catch my voice
Someone asking me :
''Are you beautiful ?''
And I say :
I'm depressed
I had beautiful skirts
Colored pencils be beautiful
I like to draw myself
The ovaries of the boats are empty
I gather the sands at the beach
The sky will remain blue with the sea
I don't know why I still don't like to makeup
I think...
**** pictures increase the depression
And it's only I who must have seen
the copulation of two crows
at the university
I can hear Farinoosh and I laughing
I will not forget Shekoufe
And Pouria that curly hair boy
I used to play with when I was four
Gave me a swallow...
And I like to draw myself
In the arms of my mom 'a scarves
My scarf was green with red dapples
I used to ride big dogs at fun fair
Eating candies
Hadn't my sister at that time
I was three...
As I got to six my sister came
with the Lion King
I remember that morning with my granny,
hanging from the terraces
I thought, the snow was snowing in the summer
Just like the cartoons...
I 'be always had strange feeling for the sun
I can't describe its warmth on my skin...!
I have dark circles around my eyes
I've lost my moon-star earrings
I can't swim in the sea
I should wear scarf
And I think I will feel death sooner
Where I can't take my mom and my sister
As I know very well that my
husband's black shoes would be
much bigger than me
For the sky to rain there must be a cloud...

آبرنگ
گواش
مدادرنگی
دلم برای دفترم تنگ شده است
من آن را درست کرده بودم
گوشواره هایم را داشت
شاید او هم با من گریه کرده باشد
به آسمان نگاه می کنم
پاهایم را نمی بینم
از روی درخت ها رد می شوم
چشم های هیچکس را به خاطر نمی آورم
ماشین ها بزرگ اند
به صدای من نمی رسند
کسی از من می پرسد
تو زیبایی!؟
و من می گویم
من افسرده ام
دامن های زیبا داشتم
مداد رنگی ها زیبا باشند
و من دوست دارم
خودم را بکشم
تخمدان قایق ها
خالیست
شن ها را در ساحل می چینم
آسمان با دریا آبی خواهد بود
نمی دانم چرا هنوز میل به
آرایش کردن ندارم
...فکر می کنم
تصویرهای سکس افسردگی را بیش تر می کند
که فقط من باید
جفت گیری دو کلاغ را
در دانشگاه دیده باشم
صدای خنده های فرینوش با من می آیند
شکوفه را از خاطر نمی برم
پوریا
پسری مو فرفری
در چهارسالگی با هم بازی می کنیم
...به من پرستو داد
و من دوست دارم خودم را بکشم
در آغوش روسری های مادرم باشم
روسری من سبز بود
با خال های قرمز
در شهربازی
سگ های بزرگ سوارم
اسمارتیز می خورم
هنوز خواهرم را نداشتم
...سه سالم بود
وقتی شش سالم شد
خواهرم با شیرشاه آمد
صبحی را با مادربزرگم یادم هست
در بالکن آویزان بودم
من فکر کردم
برف در تابستان باریده است
شبیه کارتون ها بود
همیشه احساسم به خورشید غریب است
نمی توانم توصیف کنم
!!...گرمایش در پوست تنم
زیر چشم هایم سیاه است
گوشواره های ماه و ستاره ام را گم کرده ام
نمی توانم در دریا شنا کنم
باید روسری داشته باشم
و من فکر می کنم
مرگ را زود تر احساس خواهم کرد
جایی که دیگر نمی توانم
مادرم و خواهرم را با خود ببرم
همانطور که خوب می دانم
کفش های سیاه همسرم
از من بزرگ تر خواهند بود
...باید آسمان باشد تا ابر ببارد
 May 2017
Star BG
In the name of love I take a step,
scribing a song from heart that radiates.
They pulsate with every moment,
swirling to seed its truth in a mind.

In the name of words I shall write,
putting paper to pen to find rhythms.
They spiral in scripted form
opening to awaken those who gather.

In the name of love, I open eyes
dancing to celebrate the gift of life.
They echo bridging the gap,
to awaken all inside peace and oneness.

StarBG © 2017
inspired by Eudora
 May 2017
Onoma
Where others beat--
you touch...
a beautiful order.
Put in motion
when neither you,
nor I were looking.
We accused one other
of being godlike at the
same time.
As all is well remained
in the present tense, till
further notice went
unnoticed.
Some call it peace.
 May 2017
Amanda F
Sei Un Universo

Fall into a bed of flowers.
Let your mind ripple like aqua
Under the melting sun.
Your honey like skin,
A nurtured drop of sunlight.
Absorb It.
The moon and the sun shall hide
Within you.
For in your bones is the dust
Of planets.
And in your mind are
Boundless constellations.

You are a universe.

- A.F
 May 2017
Sally A Bayan
Long before
orange-purple-pink-bluish shades vanish,
......before light evens out upon us,
before billows of clouds scatter and
fill the magnificent powder blue skies,
...fields...and other workplaces, are
already humming with activities.
:::::::
air drowns with a stream of sounds,
human, and otherwise.......voices,
...teaspoons against cups, mixing
a dark waking brew...rushing footfalls,
instructions given..revving up tractor motors,
chairs, tables moving...computers starting,
:::::::
comes  coffee breaks...and day's end
then...we go home to whoever, whatever
meets us at our doorstep...whether
our life is a bed of roses, or a bed of thorns
...or, something in between....or a mix...
:::::::
minor, major changes occur here, there,
everywhere...every second, every minute...
some seasons, dragonflies overpopulate,
wasps and honey bees swarm for their own
different reasons...flower buds turn to blooms,
various birds build nests based on their needs,
cocoons hang hidden...in silence....yet,
when time is right, new butterflies unwrap
....................and emerge...
:::::::
each day consists of old and new patterns
that lead to magical, new beginnings...
new discoveries,often called miracles,
...they happen while we are sleeping
...............when no one is looking
........or, even when we are awake,
.....but, just too busy to notice...
:::::::
from a nearby...or distant river
a sea breeze blows, and cools,
brushes..and touches... then tiptoes,
prancing upon other running currents,
acknowledging...emphatically reminding
that blessings from God are ever flowing
every breath taken, is a miracle...occurring
....while we are awake...or sleeping
whether or not, someone is looking...
:::::::


Sally


Copyright May 21, 2017
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
 May 2017
Traveler
In the subtlety of change
Slowly evolving beyond
Those Old Wives Fables
And Big Bangs of god's

In a constant deception
Bringing on the clowns
Clad in white washed
Tie died hippy gowns

Feeding us in withering
Free fall through space

Bound to our legacy
   To be erased...

There shall still
Be you and me
Within the ashes
Of entropy
....................
Traveler Tim
Hope needs no prompting
As the end grows near
Open your mind
Beyond your fears!
 May 2017
Ann Beaver
Tangled web
Weave stronger somehow
Biting the bullet
Kills you anyway

Full spectrum color -
A tangled web
Beautiful

Razor sharp electricity of eyes
Gaze through me
I want to evaporate
I want to linger a little
Spider approaching
Settle.
 May 2017
Robert McQuate
6^2
I stare,
The outsider looking in.

******* comment,
Or a practiced defence?

Cigarette slowly shrinking,
Ember glowing bright.

Out of options,
Out of time.

Walls closing in,
Creeping like vines.

Shotglass is full,
unlike the bottle.
 May 2017
Lora Lee
This house
slowly unraveling
peeling off in layers
            like citrus of sectioned
freshness
      squeezed out of bounds
                            my heart
                    all caught up
in rooms, furniture
f l y In g
no longer rooted
by familial gravity
My veins wrapped
in long strands of
              live wires
hugging each item tight
                 as if to unlock
       the memories that
scintillate within
and I
      radiate my  
            feelings of forever
to somehow imprint them
before they
whirl and swirl off
into the universe
Snippets of our lives
in angled slices
of colored mirror
a look
    a smile
       a glint in the eye
children laughing
               a garden surprise
               crazy kitchen singing
                      first solids and a bib
              first little sweet dance
      beatific smile from the crib
the bedroom for cuddles
little bugs wrapped in blankets,
so close and so dear
flanked by both of us,
guardians of light,
keeping out fears
Once, we claimed private time
velvet kisses down
trails of skin
hot lusted shadows
gently sliding within
This is how love corrupts
         how old batteries explode
            burning rust that erupts
                        as I break out
            from the mold
Now your words hit my skin
in bad chemical reaction
knives and arrows of rupture
as my bone marrow
                       gets fractured
Insides are spilling out
guts all over the floor
all this chaos created
as I split
     through
              the door
 May 2017
ryn
Some of the best words of art
come from the most
bruised and battered
of hearts.
 May 2017
Star BG
Old age,
is a blessings, a gift
the rite of passage
before moving cross bridge
to return home.

Old age is to be celebrated,
honored by young,
and appreciated by family members.

so what
if one moves slower,
does less in day, or
can't remember.

Sacred, is the older population  
that we ALL can learn from.
Learn to be humble, open to compassion
slow down,
and move in gratitude for morning light.

Glass I raise,
as I bow down to those born before me.
Move with awe to open ears for stories they tell.
And dance to morning birds song to celebrate my own birthday,
as I welcome in another number to embrace social security.
I just came back from visiting my 90 year old in an assisted memory ward home. I also just celebrated my birthday. (65) I felt humbled and honored to be with my mom and friends.
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