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 Oct 2016
SøułSurvivør
i write

like a dance, swirling

ink on the page


if writing is an

art of motion

make

my

poetry



BALLET!



SoulSurvivor
(C) 9/14/2016
Based on a comment made to another poet who had perfected the art.


~~<♡>~~
 Oct 2016
GaryFairy
when no objective is best for our protection
protecting ourselves would be the best direction
directing ourselves toward a progressive connection
connecting our minds to make a collective correction

correcting the obsessions that infect our perception
perceiving ourselves as the essence of conception
conceiving a brand new perspective of reception
receiving the blessing that we call perfection
In a Quantum Loop poem, the last line of each stanza must be used as a different form of the word, as the first word in the following line. It also must rhyme, or nearly rhyme. Rhyme scheme can be any way you want it though. In a double quantum loop poem, the first word in lines 2, 3, and 4 must rhyme.
 Oct 2016
traces of being
Perched high upon burl wood roost
dangling feet swing upon
          mossy girthed heritage
                                       maple tree
Her majestic gnarled scaffold
flinches not from my nebulous gravity,
nor the weight of her unraveling
                                       golden autumn gown

Her lamentable achings  
felt in the voice
of the ripening chill
             within the campfire
                                        scented breeze
For I have climbed so blindly high,
the clinging brilliant yellow leaves
metamorphosing like these fragile paper wings,  
opening palms born to soar wild as the wind,
                                         to just let go and fly free

Waiting here patiently,
wistfully as destiny,
for the final edifying moment
                                          of fate’s unshacklement - - -;

the surrendering to,
      the moment of love set free,
               stolen by the wanton
                                         gypsy breeze


                                                        ­               *wild is the wind
Sunday morning― October 2016
...spontaneously hitting "save poem" without edit
Some poems walk with me,
Some poems simply talk to me,
Some poems reach out to me,
Some poems scream and shout at me,
whilst some poems eventually grow on me.

Some poems slow dance with me,
Some poems enchant me - they are
breathtakingly mesmerising to me,
Some poems captivate me after hijacking me,
Some poems rip my heart out
and break every single piece of me.

Some poems absolutely impress me,
Some poems couldn't care less about me,
Some poems embrace every inch of me,
Some poems share my soul with me.

Some poems inspire me and motivate me,
Some poems **** the very life out of me,
Some poems resonate with every fibre of me,
Some poems switch a little light on for me.

Some poems will forever live inside of me,
Some poems twist themselves and lie to me,
Some poems are open and honest with me,
Some poems...are just like people to me!

By Lady R.F (c)2016
Today,
I almost remembered what it felt like to cover my heart and blanket my soul ~ Almost!

Today,
I almost fell back to sleep on catching my stars and achieving my goals ~ Almost!

Today,
I almost forgot how to practice what I preach, when I thought for too long ~ Almost!

Today,
I almost forgot all of the words I had written
to my daily song ~ Almost!

Today,
I felt sorrow, until I remembered that tomorrow was nearer than far ~ Almost!

Today,
I pray for a tomorrow, regardless of any sorrow, for this life is but a shooting star ~ Almost!

By Lady R.F ©2016
 Oct 2016
Mike Adam
Child
*****
Fool and
Wise

Hello poets
 Oct 2016
Nishu Mathur
The winds of autumn shall soon blow
Verdant leaves that in summer show
Cascading, floating, golden-red
And make a copper- russet bed
      Before 'tis white with quilted snow ...

The burnished rays of autumn's glow
Will implore Summer's heat to go
As falling leaves shall dance and shed
The winds of autumn...

And those sweet seeds that I shall sow
Tenderly- someday, bloom and grow
Where hopes of life so gently tread
As I, on earth, shall rest my head
All seasons of this life to know
The winds of autumn...
 Oct 2016
Pax
Despite all the rejections we go through
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
life in writing is never ending.


© Pax
just a quote
https://www.instagram.com/p/BDOT4kyLpQQ/?taken-by=willyampax
 Oct 2016
Nat Lipstadt
circumscribed circumstances circumspect  

~


these then
the circumstances,
that circumscribe
my essentials

the surround-sound orb walls of choices
made and yet-to-be-made delimiting me,
making me wary of the unforeseen,
more circumspect of what I will someday have chosen

recall standing on the now crushed,
destroyed subway platform of the
Cortlandt Street Station,
debating

take this job or that

took the one but a crow mile fly away
(and not the one that didn't survive)

come that day,
me, audience observer then,, not one of the
death undefying unwilling circus performers, and heroes,

when I pass the covered up burial sight,
the many nearby and  forever crinkly crape draped firehouses,
or open the drawer where
I have
saved the tidbits of that
particular day's memories walk home,

a covenant reaffirmed,
a circumcision of the soul renewed

a circumcision upon the soul,
the renewed cut, sheds, allows some light
into the circularity of life



9/11/16
true story...
The Angels
blow their breath
into her ink,

Each one of her words
are a reflection
of her pure soul;
a direct link.

By Lady R.F ©2016
 Oct 2016
Ann Beaver
Everything blue. Invisible.

Crashing, collapsing  
Gold swept away


The back again to stay the winter

Weathering stone to sand

Hand-in-hand to spring

*Soaking everything in gold
In blue
Graffed at the Dali museum in Monterey. Italics is my boo Dragon Lily
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