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 Aug 2017
beth fwoah dream
"where day is.... dreams of a summer sky."

i.

the sky floats up,
gazing out with lips
of steel, a
shiny branch
surrendering
to summer’s sigh,
her iris a cats
eye, marble blue,
her pupil a dark
wand.

ii.

play with me,
draw me out of the
dark,

let me sing to
you a sea-song
where the waves
somersault and
crash to the shore,

where the wind, wild
as wild, faints to breathe
the wakening sky.

iii.

see how i write in passages,
faint-waves  of
summer’s mists where
the rain dips her pen in
the grey-ink cloud.

iv.

searching for your ghosts,
the deep whirling of the streamy sea
with its wine-red roses like
coloured glass
dance as i gather
whispers of strangeness
and sun, blossoming,
shrink-edged like an
opalescent pool, all
of it, you.

v.

days of watery rags and rubber
tyres, red snake of
summer’s ribs, the
stones of the stormy sun,
gathering the landscape
where tonight the
moon will rise for love
you will loosen my hair
and i will kiss your throat.
 Aug 2017
SøułSurvivør
my
heart      
        is
a
scattered  
                 puzzle
     game

all              
       the
                   pieces
a
grey                
prison
                 wall

You
take                
              Your
tender    
                        brush
               and
paint
              each
     little
segment                
            bright
colors
I                  
can            
              only
see
after                
You've
                     turned
             them
over

You've
                  fitted
           them
together
with
such

LOVE!

no

ADORATION!

and
when
You're
done

                         fitting

me          

             together

I
see        
       my
heart
is
a

garden

of

YOUR

GLORY!



SøułSurvivør
(C) 8/19/2017
This poem came to me as I was reading tonight. I was thinking of puzzle pieces and how they are gray on the back. But God is always painting a picture of glory on the other side! And He's the only one who can fit the puzzle game together!

I am a slow reader, I realize. Thank you for being patient with me if I have not read a whole lot. I hate to skim poetry. It's like putting a piece of chocolate in your mouth and then spitting it out right away! I like to savor it! Thanks for understanding!

♡ Catherine
/
What can I say?
You didn't read the warning label.

Dangling from the ceiling, fluorescence like drunken accents dripping from the tongue, the fallacies we fashion into stars and let hang in our eyes, etc etc.

You know the story. You were there,

how in that light,
we almost looked human,

the city screaming around us, the dusty night engulfing everything.

I mean, even zippers have teeth,

so slam the window shut. Slam the door. Slam and slam and slam until my name doesn't matter anymore,

your eyes like the barrel of a gun, your eyes like headlights.

I'll be doing the same,

taking pictures out of their frames. It feels different that way, a naked memory.

doing the laundry, cutting up the furniture, spotlights for the spotlights. I know

you liked to think yourself a martyr for our love. I wish someone would've shut you up,

the skin in my teeth from chasing my own tail. You never forget the taste of blood.

*******, darling.
I have more important things to feel guilty about.
 Aug 2017
Maria Etre
When your
heart beats
in a series of code
that your mind
has yet to
decipher
praise your gods
darling
for you're
evolving
Saudade: Saudade (European Portuguese: is a deep emotional state of nostalgic  longing for something  absent or someone that one loves.
 Aug 2017
Sjr1000
Called a cab
It had to be Yellow
Checkered at least
A rumble seat

Old school,
an Uber
it
just wouldn't do.

The cabbie asked me
What's your destination?

Take me to the end of time,
I don't think it's on your GPS
Do you know the ride?

He hit the meter
never replied

Looking out the window
Saw it all fly by

When we arrived
I was surprised

No charge, he said
for this ride.
 Aug 2017
Demonatachick
Trapped on my pedestal lofted up high, shrouded by darkness, dreaming of sky, let me dance for you're enjoyment, let me pirouette and spin, release me from my prison it's you're jewelry box I'm in.
Alchemy- written from memories of my younger self and my first jewelry box which contained a tiny ballerina who spun to Claire du lune.
 Aug 2017
wordvango
left out chop chops
to thaw
in the microwave, so the cats can't get to,
forgot till this afternoon,
smell ok,
I am gonna trichinosis out
tonight
with lots of salt and pepper
and a side of french cut
green beans
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