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 Nov 2018
Delilah Summers
People come and go
Unlike matter that isn't lost nor obtained
People are nature
Changing day by day
Growing, flourishing
and sometimes after their seeds have spread and their roots stronger someone else they fall.
When the flower dies they move into their new roots in the distance
They leave because they couldn't find the beauty above them just the dirt beneath them
When they go, it's not because of you
They just aren't meant to be
so let them be
and if your roots grow to meet again by the breeze that swayed them back
care for them or just be by them with no interaction
you change too
like nature you're made up of fire air water and food
life's fulfillment that fuels you
be aware of them because sometimes nature deprives us of our needs and covers the beauty of life.
It's a never-ending change so keep growing with it don't part from it.
Let it be
Treasure your nature because the season will come as another piece of life joins your glorious path
loneliness can be suffering but loneliness is worthy of finding yourself in nature
In nature, you are nurtured

You haven't lost sight.
 Nov 2018
Valsa George
On a walk companioned by my Muse along the sylvan meadows
We wandered away to delightful realms in unclouded ambience
Don’t know how long I rambled warming my fancies in sunset fires
Must be for long, all lights were out, the quiet hamlet lay bathed in sleep

Above  me, stood the starry firmament and the half hidden moon
Could see the vast plains stretching before me in moonlight, bare
My heart was flooded with joy, my fancies took to wings
Got drowned in Nature’s serene calm, my spirit lost in drunken ecstasy

In the gentle blowing breeze, the leaves twittered and murmured
All else was quiet and nothing disturbed the serenity of the night
But soon I knew the East wind strengthening around into a gale
And across the moon I could see stragglers of clouds moving past

I sat on a rock, lost, so lost staring into the clear night sky
Wondering how the celestial joy, made manifest by the twinkling stars
My thoughts began floating like a ship over the briny waters
And my temporal settings faded away like a cloud in the horizon

From the nearby woods, I heard the song of a lone night bird
In rising cadence, alone and aloud it fell on my rapturous ears
Was it a nightingale that poured forth that dewy delight?
Was it the same song, Keats heard long ago cascading from the woods?

      With my Muse in this unearthly hour let me sit awhile in this solitary bower
To my paper, let my fancies in unbroken crystal streams flow
Wonder if I can rightly recreate the image that my thoughts enfold
How I wish, I could like Coleridge, build a pleasure dome in mid air!
 Nov 2018
Jamison Bell
You call yourselves poets
Artistic souls that see the world through the eyes of angels
Filleting their feelings like strips of cod, laying them out before a market of other poets
The air in here forces me to scoff, to gag on the air of over embellishment.
I pen as well, but not as well
I’ll admit to that
Over a thousand poems can be arrested to me
Though I do not call myself a poet
No
No my hapless ink stained celestial bound brethren of disdain and misery
I am a mad man.
Always desperately trying to find the right words
Frantically mashing away as if my fingers were trying to stomp out a ****** fire
Trying to keep my fingers busy
Lest I leave them be
They’ll **** me
 Nov 2018
Jamison Bell
You get off on licking your own skin, lapping up that which you sweat.
It’s who you think you are that you love more than anything else.
A trough for the masses who seek to get their fill until you stop smiling.
Misery lies in wait while you bask in the glow of idol worship.
Getting off on getting off until all that’s left is a lie and an empty bottle.
You better hope that that mirror is as good liar as you are to yourself.
 Nov 2018
Alex B
Someone stole my color
And threw it to the wind
Scattered like ashes
I don’t know if I’ll ever find it

Someone stole my color
From the face I know so well
I saw it in the cotton candy clouds
And the teal ocean swell

Someone stole my color
I guess that’s where it went
The world looks so much brighter
Like something heaven-sent

Someone stole my color
And that’s what no one knows
Depression isn’t black
It’s the color of a rose

It’s the light orange in a sunset
And the yellow of a peach
Light blue, my favorite color
So simply out of reach

Purple like my favorite eyeshadow
No, lavender, I’d guess you’d say
And my favorite music artist
Although he has passed away

Someone stole my color
Now everything’s too bright
I suppose sometimes darkness
Isn’t the opposite of light

Someone stole my color
So I’ll wear grey and black
As if in mourning
Until I get it back
 Jun 2018
Savannah Mason
Your silence tells me everything I need to know.
And yet I search for hints of your love in it.
Like a squirrel storing up for winter I hoard our memories.
Use them to fill me during this famine.
Your silence only serves to fuel my dream that we are still us.
 Jun 2018
Savannah Mason
I am down in the cave.
     Eyes open to the darkness.
Sheltered from the elements.
     But this shelter leaves me
          naked and exposed. Unable
to hide from myself.
I feel the familiar ache begin
     to rise in my chest.
Followed by fear.
     I want to run.
As I look for a way out,
     I am met by his eyes.
I slow my breath
               and stare.
It is only his eyes I see.
     But I know them.
I feel the space between us
     as an offering.
     A shared experience.
For I am not naked
     and alone in this cave.
He is there.....
     naked and exposed in the darkness with me.
Without touch
     I feel him.
Without words
     We speak.
I search his eyes.
It is then I see the flicker of
          fear.
For we both know this is a rare find.
We know the ecstasy of such a treasure.
Without moving
     We begin to dance.
The flicker of fear hidden.
Now replaced with a pleading to trust him.
And I know I can trust him.
He will not leave me alone
     in the cave when
     the wailing escapes
     my lips like a cry
     of an animal caught
     by his predator.
He will bare witness to that pain.
He will make sure it does not swallow me whole.
I will trust him and
     wrap myself in his
     steady presence.
But I know it will
     not be enough.
It will leave its' own cry.
His steadiness falters
     with this protest.
He fears I may be right.
He wants to protect me
     from that familiar cry.
He wants to run,
     but does not.
He wrestles briefly
     with his own darkness.
Words escape me and
     I assure him of my strength.
Of my willing participation
   in this space.
He knows I am accepting this gift of presence,
     but his fear tells me
     he believes me when
     I say, "It won't be enough."
That I know only love will heal this ache.
For when the wailing escapes full force,
   I will need skin on skin
     arms and legs wrapped in another........
The healing touch that comes
    from knowing where one ends
     and the other begins.
This sacrifice is one
     he cannot offer
     and I cannot accept.
Love will be the ultimate
     healing
and this cave only holds
unrequited love.
Yet we stand in the cave together
          Unmoving for now.
This is a long poem written for someone who sat with me through some very dark and sad times in my life. If you took the time to read it, I thank you.
 Jun 2018
Savannah Mason
This is my story
and I now see I hold the pen to
write it!
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