More Than Just A Pretty Face

Nov 2016

Little Bear

i'm not even
sure
i know
how to love;
not anymore

i think..
all that i had
you took
with you

and now..
now there's
nothing..
nothing but
a you
shaped hole

where there
was once
sunshine

#bathtimethoughts

Nov 2016

Polar

A Dandelion Wish

Like a dandelion seed

you have flown from my reach

When you used to be so near.

The night calls out to you

With siren delights

Guiding you

with illusions of bright shining lights.

Like Michaelangelo's barefooted baby Jesus

I see you run toward a future

Headed for potential disaster

And like the angels

I want to shadow you

To steer you away.

Yesterday seems far away

With sadness I see

Time

Has made you step away

From me.

Nov 2016

Sonja Benskin Mesher

..three pigeons ..

how do they know to come back,

how

to come back? .                   i asked

steaming at central          station.

they were sending

eggs by post those days, and dad

sent primroses,              i am told.

in boxes.

remember the day we bought

the cat, placed in a      special

one  for                       carrying,

marked                         pigeon.

became his name.

they sent them away by train,

later

we imagined we saw them fly

back.

sbm.

Nov 2016

Erin Suurkoivu

******* Dry Honey

a thousand restless fingers
pluck along my nerves
and crawl swarming bees
over my flesh
******* dry honey
and I as a comb am empty
waiting on the waxing moon
to bring in the tide
exposed and littered
on the cracked seabed
lighting beeswax candles
impromptu runway lights
for those aeroplanes
who always fail to land
and wasted afternoons
fade into wasted nights
tossing to and fro
I sleep
under the cupboards instead

Featured along with other fine poems in my poetry collection, "Blood for Honey", available on Amazon or through Lulu.

#moon #empty #honey #nerves #tide #bees #exposed #waxing #comb #seabed

Oct 2016

xoe

lunatic

I'd like to blame the moon
for all I've been feeling
for this freedom
this feminine freedom
bathed in white light

I'd like to blame the moon
for the brown in my eyes
the dirt on my feet
my mess of a hair
and a life

I'd blame her too, for my love of sunshine
rain and all that comes from nature
connection
to all beings

I'll blame the night for art
and thank her
for artists

and I'll thank myself for my liberation
my love for the goddess
the joy of nature
my own nature
my feet
the ground
my soul, at last