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 May 2018
Traveler
Superstition
Is the foundation
Of magical beliefs
Supremacy mindsets
Secret police
Religious in nature
Invisible in being
Chosen for the obvious
Position as kings
  
All others are animals
If they're not one of us
Direct them to
The back of the bus

If supremacy is the image
Of some intolerance maker
Perhaps love
Is the holy role breaker!
Traveler Tim
 Dec 2017
Lora Lee
in the icy swirl
          of deep-inhale
            I reach down inside
                      to darkest
       heated flesh-fabric
removing the clothing
of my soul,
feeling the layers
                slowly  undone
                      the flay
                        of my own fleece
                          the peeling
                    of my own pelt
            penetrating
                through tissue,
                     a journey to the
                          deep heart of me,
                         cut in one clean move
                         and yet, like a miracle
                  there is
             no pain
                   just magnet-connect
                     beyond the cusp
                            of words
                              that curl from our
                                             tongues
                                      rising up in
                      latticed affirmations
                    a cleansing in frost
a constant, aquamarine renewal
and there is no past
no future
      just this prism
           of crystal liquid jewels
      flowing in
gentle,
         cellular music
             straight into the strands        
                    of our veins
and I miss you
like you have gone
on the long winter hunt
my longing splayed out
like an animal skin on
                    four poles
its tendons stretched
beyond measure
yet holding fast
with a roof over my head,
                    I acknowledge
             my restlessness
I am my own
       hunter-forager,
         both searching and found,
                     gathering up bits  
               of velocity
stroking the ribbons
of passion
stoking the fires of my
              heart and hearth
protecting what is us
like a lioness
for we are overflowing
with both strength
         and tenderness
              our own bones
ingredients of the wild soup              
of our feral union
of our constant rebirth
our very dna
          weaving itself
like heartstrings
               in the rush      
of
       time
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MPMEufMuyks
 Nov 2017
wordvango
mis-measured the bed for the sheets and pillows
possibly on purpose
it's a king and proper fitting things would give her too much area to
wander away from me in sleep and I
so desire her near next right against me
a Freudian sheet?
Did I do it on purpose?
Three days now and we'll be together for the first time ever. I anticipate fret with should I trim my mustache and hair
change my toothpaste
floss cleaner
make the bed with one hospital corner?
which side should I leave uncovered
the left or right since
the queen sheets and bedspread cover only so much?
Should I clean the toilet again?
Try to write her a poem to give her when
she steps in our
efficiency apartment mansion
I picked the right woman
one who is into hearts and feelings instead
of fancy cars and nights out
cause I got planned
some long moonlight walks  maybe a
fire outside in a barrel we can sit 'round
drink a few
and watch the embers curl
as I sneak views of her sneaking peeks
and know yeps
she is my love
and later we
will go inside into the bed half covered and love then
snuggle all night and soon
the refrigerator will get here and
we'll have  somewhere to chill a spoon
and our beer
I can't wait for her
I feel wealthy and wise
I know she is mine!
I am found
within the longest periods
of silence.
I am found
within the stillness
of a lonely night.

I am found
within the gathering darkness
of the clouds in the heavens.
I am found
beneath the shadow
of the moon's gleaming light.

I am found
within the crevices
of your exhausted mind.
I am found
buried in the shallow waters
along the shore.

I am found
in nature's inviting,
warm, tender embrace.
I am found
within the striking beauty
of every constellation--that you adore; 
it is there I will dwell
forevermore.

By Lady R.F. (C)2017
 Nov 2017
wordvango
just visiting
   every once in the while
                this exotic place
where dreams take shape
again

along treelines
   very near the coastal plains
                a time once where ships
had sails and lives were
placed

by visionaires
   painting psalms as true stories
               and dreams as real life
morals with plans to make
more

in the future
    as sticks and sands and
             and waders in the blue surf
lapping at ankles call the
shore

home as the sailor seeks
      his love when the sails have folded
              the salt washed in fresh waters
again a sip of barley
seek

amore'
 Nov 2017
wordvango
never been there
West Virginia
or anywhere like your heart

covered bridges
ancient ridges
all those lonely miles

between the coasts
I wonder what every mile
every smile is like

a coal miner's daughter
miles tick
the odometer

as I traverse
states
many ladies addresses

all forgotten as
I go now with only
one destination
 Oct 2017
wordvango
tender was as soft as any fluffy cloud ever
hovered over
any straw strewn field
soft as bunny fluff or
a kitten's purr
green Illuminata on a screen
of Daisies dalliances with efflorescent
shields of sunglows radiance
illuminating the hidden parts
the mind's shadows
a part
in a play one act
a display of life's reality
sunken a bucket far down
into the deepest well ever
returned full
of glittering
clear
stark
pure
beautiful
clearness
 Oct 2017
wordvango
into magic like
when I was a kid
her song sings
calling me forward
soft choruses
sweet pipers
tangerine suns
mystic glows
spriteful harmonies
strings  and bows
a party there
between
two eyes two arms
two souls
magnificence
 Oct 2017
wordvango
seen one  of life's peaks
seen many mountains
been around a few of life's
mysteries and evaded
none

I saw my children come  out of
their mother's womb
I fell on my knees
at the majesty

I was near when people close to me
passed into the next world
I've seen history be told
by wise old *****
whose days had passed 90
or 93

I have seen young die too soon
7 11 13
28

53
I wasn't there when my dad passed
I've  loved dogs
and cats children and women

Music and ages and strangers I never knew
in the distance
I see me pass
I  see the world keep on spinning
I only wish
for the chance to tell
to certify my love
hold her eternally
one time
before the end
 Oct 2017
Pagan Paul
.
O' Maiden of the Garden, still thy flowery swing.
Inhale dawns fresh dew, as birds take to wing.

Glide casual across the grass and dainty moss,
pause quaint, gently pick a white rose for thy hair.
Shed a tear and cry for thy saddest love lost,
walk through the mist and float away in the air.

And seated 'pon thy flowery swing,
in quiet and soft repose,
draped so nonchalant until Spring,
the silent ghost of a rose.



© Pagan Paul (10/10/17)
.
Part 1 of 'Rose' trilogy.
.
 Oct 2017
Pagan Paul
.
O' Lady of the Forests, hold thy woodland form.
Smell blossoms sweet scent, calm within a storm.

Take umbrance through meadows and mighty trees,
pause delicate, gently pick a red rose for thy hair.
Hold a tear and muse 'pon thy children's pleas,
walk by sacred lakes and be one with the air.

And stood 'pon thy woodland form,
bleed love to all exposed,
pain becomes still until forever,
the silent blood of a rose.



© Pagan Paul (10/10/17)
.
Part 2 of 'Rose' Trilogy.
.
 Oct 2017
Pagan Paul
.
O' Widow of the Worlds, embrace thy darkest hours.
Breathe evenings cold perfume, recall woods and flowers.

Glide proud amongst thy memories and foggy dreams,
pause pensive, gently pick a black rose for thy hair.
Give tears, settle 'pon thy fate as destiny deems,
walk through the mist and dissolve into the air.

At peace 'pon thy darkest hours,
sigh alone, a door to close,
sadness sleeps for all eternity,
the silent death of a rose.



© Pagan Paul (10/10/17)
.
Final poem of 'Rose' trilogy
.
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