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 Apr 2022
beth fwoah dream
black skies stretch
in darkness, the clouds
dissolve into rain,
the night is lacquered
with varnish like
a wooden floor,
shiny and surreal -

it breathes of night
bird and the magnolia
light of the moon, quivers
and then is still, wraps us
in the mirrored waters of the stars.

the moon elevates
the night from darkness to
hypnotic light, bathes
the world in silver, flows
with our tears and our
softly spoken words,

transcends like lazarus
to a sky witnessed
through centuries,
loved and worn like
our favourite old clothes.
 Apr 2022
Ayesha
I don’t, don't speak human
when blue comes down to talk
in the clogged old crannies of the night
woman
with ornate skin
moves her arm
her wrist, her fingers
quick like the clicking of a tongue
quick glitter, gentle then gentler
and rippling, a water eye in blue

over hills and over muddles
see the crow fly

when time comes fluttering back to us
tell me again of the war
when mingles the sword with
flowering heart and the reeds
speak up, their
thin throats filled
with lore, and lure the scattered world here
here here
          here

tell me

tell me, on and on the
tingling of mud as it is
lifted, lifted, to man, to callous,
like sun-forged flesh and force,
to his child, and the parting
of two lips
parting! the lifting, the toiling of tendon in the
riot of soul

over the woods! over mountains
see the crow fly, feel her shadow
when throe laughs, tickles the muscle
and even past wakes up
and even the gaunt clutched spine
of a thin sallow voice
perks up keening

hear hear hear

the beating of the feat
the beating of the nerve
when chant them men, and sole
and leather, with rumble
the rumble of war
when slides sly down the sweat and dust
and galleries light up
with walls full of human
and museums cradle little stones
little bones and calls
tell me
tell me tell me
even a crow can sing sing
sing one awake
perhaps a bit too crowded this one
I like some bits still

12/04/2022
 Apr 2022
Hadrian Veska
To ash and stolen
Our home among the stars
No retaliation
Even escape but a distant dream
Though by sheer grace
Did some survive
Scattering themselves far and wide
Among the ever twilight cosmos
One day I know they will return
They must!
For in them lies the spark
The last remaining hope
Of a humanity without a home
 Mar 2022
Mariam
I miss you
I miss me
Like a furnace I was fed with coal and fuel
but I was quite …
Spitting out fire sparks every now and then
Hurting no one but myself
The heat pushed you away …
Pushed everyone away
Except for those who accidentally caught fire!
In an attempt to cool down I blew steam into my soul
Melting down every good memory …
I thought by burning them down I would have nothing to lose … no one to mistrust… no one to “mislove”…
I thought the calm ashes would finally bring me peace …
Now here I am standing -buried in the suffocating ashes- waiting for a phoenix to emerge …
I can see no phoenixes leaving this furnace …
 Mar 2022
Maria Mitea
in an even more distant land
where love is a devil eating chains
at a big banquet
hope, a hungry wolf admiring him with lust,
I will go to a country
where souls are called like soldiers in an unconscious war
underground
the curse, a gentle baby suckled by the grass
****** death,  our joy
anger, flying stars
fear, dancing bride
tears broken kisses from victoria waterfall
rain, crayfish in tomato sauce,

let's get rid of this winter
I'm ready to do anything
but anything,
I"ll make death from the water
and  life from the swords,
red blood  shine like the sun,

white and beautiful
this winter wants everything to look like mastery that caresses our eyes,
bears in a den,
when I feel crying like a naughty child
I will go far, far away...
where the earth trembles under your voice
and sad eyes  hug like two prayers on the streets of philadelphia
 Mar 2022
Kurt Philip Behm
The more I think I really know,
the less I understand

The farther out to sea I drift,
the more I miss the land

The stormier the days repeat,
my soul to chase the sun

The rules I once thought hard and fast,
denounced and on the run

The more I think, the less I feel,
my spirit inexcused

The hours spent off from myself,
those times I stay confused

As days fade into sleepless nights,
the moon to haunt my dreams

Where wishes live to hope again
—if I can just believe

(1st Book Of Prayers: June, 2019)
 Mar 2022
Krista Delle Femine
If you listen carefully
Silence will speak
Sometimes too stubborn to hear
Or too weak
Volumes in what is not said
The wind
The crickets
Scuffing feet and creaky beds
The conscience replaying
Pets and peeves
The want to stays and want to leaves
Adjusting to your willingness
To accept the more
And the less
If you can hear it
You will know
Silence speaks straight to the soul
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