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 Jun 2018
trf
Sittin' perched upon these trees
I'm an astronaut
In a valley where wings are free
takin' time to connect the dots
Smashing clocks who beckon me
the journey is the plot  
  MUST MORE ACRES BURN ? 

     I'm high
  but I can't decide,
    where the beginning meets the end
  or if they coincide,
    I'm alive,
  but I'm on the fence,
    I can't hide these scars
  from barb wired "friends"

Let's
get alone
Let's set the controls for the heart of the sun
Let's
be free
Let's mimic the path of the birds and the bees
Let's
parade
Let's dance in the streets in our evening gowns
Let's
placate
Rid the world of our demons and all its hate.
We are the people with ideas. Our ideas are not monetarily driven, obviously, however with them we can at least plant some seeds so in time, maybe, just maybe: they will make a difference. Plant seeds now, and if nurtured and adopted by the soil, they mature fantastically to be later savored. Please look out for each other. I love you.
 Jun 2018
empty seas
i feel called
to go

the wind whispers
fantastical tales
about a life
with no attachments
just going


i want to run out in the streets
and call
into the void

take me away

oh, how nice that would be
to be free

so when i say
i have to leave
i mean
the wind will tear me to pieces
if i don't let it sweep me away
 Jun 2018
harlon rivers
An innocent glance at photo’s still waters
feeling a revenant song heard calling in the wind
as the tears come streaming
with the loving and the hurting

The heaviness … Oh the sweet heaviness
a fading heartbeat settles in palm of hand
with the accepting tears of merciful surrender

The weight of a fallen mountain
upon the footprints that held up an unseen world
Helpless to stand back up tall as a sky so far away

The substance of the unshouldered weight to bear;
evermore gazing unto the sunset to understand
the beauty of the light,.. and a hopeful sweetness
at the dimming of a longest day

An unknowable ache and suffering of the leaving ―
an orphaned love with a faith in contrary hopefulness;
a joy at the dawning, going home
toward the guiding light


harlon rivers  ...   June 2018
written after finding some pictures in an old suitcase stored up in the rafters ― musing a moment out of the blue, i was not prepared for
 Jun 2018
Sarita Aditya Verma
A place
In my mind
Neither Alien nor Earthly
I yearn to find

Lost
In the Universe
Neither to be found in Verse
Nor Hearse

A place
In my mind
Distinctly Familiar,Yet Unknown
I SEEK
Shall I ,find....
Some thoughts ..... trying to fill them in words
 Jun 2018
Sally A Bayan
No one else, but a poet...can bring colors
to scenes...with verses, in crass or subtle
tones......gather words together in lines,
uncertain in their ebbing and flowing...
the results create surprise in many
hues that could make one cry,
grimace......frown......or smile

readers are led to far, or near
destinations...to the cool, sweet air
and peaceful atmosphere of paradise,  
or, to unlit corners...uncharted waters,
or deep into an abyss...or, a black hole,
an unknown corner, where moribund souls
are biding their time, maybe, they could
now define by themselves, purgatory and hell,
understand those sunken souls who have lost
all...except their arms, and begging eyes...
then, through appropriate words,
a poet paints a laborious path, or
a stairway...so an enlightened reader
may climb back to safe, calm waters...

a poet makes the mind see a human heart,
beating in many rhythms...throbbing,
.......aflame with longing and desire,
bursting from ecstatic, sublime moments,
then, later on,  shift to grayish thoughts
that cut deep....tormenting...crashing,
............gnashing the heart...
a poet paints a soul walking on cloud nine,
later, to dip feet in celebrative pools.

sometimes, a poet would rather not, yet,
an inner force prevails, thereby paints a
drooping soul...dying, in total surrender,
ready to fall..............but, again, with a
barrel of lively-colored words,  a poet
takes this despondent soul to berth,
with soothing verses, bring it to a rebirth...
every human being is worth an effort
..............even those that have fallen
.........................are worth savin' .....

a poet's palette is uniquely
enriched with colorful experiences,
a poet paints life in its truest colors,
..........could be dark...or bright
.....nothing more......nothing less...





Sally

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
    January 29, 2017
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