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 Jan 2021
Prevost
Last night a young poet’s voice
tore so deep within
that it ripped my soul apart.....

Her words of birds and cages and gravity
and what human does to human
brought me back to wind swept hills
where the was sky blue enough to drown in
and vast enough to blanket all corners of the earth
where I, as a boy, worked and wandered
wandered through words
words spoken in telling
and words raged in rage

As I pulled the implements of grain through the soil
I learned to think
the dust I raised drifted across the land
bringing with it my thoughts
passed horizons, passed the hills
to distant lands
torn by the pains of love, of war, of loss
and
of what human does to human

His rage was the desperation of a soul shredded
by war
by what human does to human
he was caged
between what he had seen
and that he should still posses some hope
between witnessing the destruction of a world
and believing in a world

But deep within him I had always heard a voice
a voice buried deep beneath his rage
a voice..... he could no longer hear
but I
could always hear
“no matter how long I am caged
no matter how long the gravity of ignorance and hate,
the gravity of hubris and destruction binds and
holds down my soul,
I was alway meant to fly,
we were all....meant to fly....”
I published this eight years ago. I thought I would revisit it again.
 Jan 2021
phil roberts
Days of dawns and sunsets
When every hour is full
And every moment has a purpose
Measures of our small lives
Tick tock
Mortality's clock

Outside of ourselves
The crescendo and cadence
Universal movement and momentum
Always and endlessly
Travelling circles and orbits
The ghastly vastness of infinity
Defies human imagination

And yet
Our speck of existence
Tiny though it is
Is all that the cosmos owes us
And we should use it well
Wring every second dry
Open our hearts and minds
And fill them with living

                                        By Phil Roberts
 Jan 2021
Caroline Shank
I seem to be broken now.
Pieces fall as strangled
shapes to the floor.  
I toe them, looking
for the edges to rustle
back together.

Fragments fall.
Dried edges and shriveled
meanings.  (The torn
remains of my old age.)

I think I am broken.
My poems drift
off as blowing leaves
in a dry season.  
I rake them into
a pile.  The crackles
and snaps. The ends
of thought.

I write this to save the few
remaining poems I have.
Words fall from the
dustpan of dry letters
on a cold night.

Caroline Shank
1.20.21
 Jan 2021
CK Baker
dusted sunlight
peeks through the cracks
of the old weathered barn

tractor oil
and freshly baled hay
permeate the warm country air

hoot owl, and swallows
whisper from the  
overhead beams

guinea hens scamper ~
to the graceful
rolling fields
 Jan 2021
Mary Anne Norton
If I lay
Still in
The darkness
Of night
I can hear the
Rhythmic sound
Of the clock
I time in
My mind
The tic after the
Last tock
The soothing
Sound of
Chimes
Singing in
The wind
Even the
Churning of
My stomach
Making rounds
The yapping of
A dog far
Down.
The street
Stillness fills
The air
And an angel's
Sigh
Waiting to.
Be heard
 Jan 2021
jordan
the silken thread that binds me
to the voice of the muse
vibrates with her subtle speech
in a way i can’t refuse

stitching heart and mind
though tenuous and fine
the beauty of this filament
is illumined and divine

and though i’ll never claim it
i will seek it all my days
until at last i’m laid to rest
no more to leave her gaze
feeling grateful for my on-again, off-again connection to the void
 Jan 2021
Sparkle in Wisdom
🌍🌎 of HP

I was a visitor on
HP...
For my sister who was there
For whom I did care..
I came and read work of her,
Enjoyed the links and the flavour.

Then I joined and became a member,
Did not think it will be this fun time together.

Three years on and still counting
Two daily's and still enjoying,
Never thought it will be this much fun..

It's a cosmic connection,
World with no boundaries and
so rare,
Met so many people,
so many nationalities,
So many names
and
So many poems,
And yet,
It doesn't matter anymore,
All are connected with heart of writing,
Poems flow through veins and arteries,
And love oozes out in comments and likes..
Never thought the journey will be so much fun.

Thank you everyone
You make this platform a perfect body with no disease.
A body with glow and charm of its own.

❤️❤️

Sparkle In Wisdom
15/1/2021
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