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 Jun 2015
Don Bouchard
I know why Adam chose
to go with Eve,
To stay beside the one
he'd come to love,
Though he believed
Life and Death's incision
Hung in the balance
of his imminent decision.

He took and ate
the offering from his Mate.
In Life, in Death,
the two were mated,
And for all time,
their seed was fated...
Deadly plantation
of love and sin,
This Reaper's Field
we're living in.

Before he damns him,
I believe,
A man must stand
in Adam's skin
And gaze on Eve.
Inseparable pair and here we are....
Trying to think beyond the story as we know it....
 May 2015
Musfiq us shaleheen
~~
All had been removed
one by one
Take all!
But do not take away this little light
Open the window
Let the wind come

I will not protest any day
will not say against you
Even when I got empty I do not want to
Those yellow crops,
Fertile barren fields
all yours

Do not want to
Never ask you for anything expensive

But in return
I want to see those yellow marigolds,
The silver moonlit of the lonely moon
And a newly bloomed red rose,
The aroma of gardenia in the air
For my awaiting beloved,
So Let the wind come

I'll give you more!
The Hidden gold pitcher of my grandma,
The Saved Silver coin of my ancestor,
Gold, precious locket,
Antics-
The Diamond Crown
– All -

But want to return
My beloved's smile which has taken from
The golden shining day where I had left her
The very Sweet Southern wind where my Spring plays
My lost grasshopper

Lost love Song
My mother's simple smile,
The paper boats of my springtime,
My grandma's fairytale
And a piece of open sky where I take a little breath

Where my kites of dreams fly
Dances with Seven colors of love
~~
@Musfiq us shaleheen
 May 2015
Amitav Radiance
Hold on to sanity
Understand the chaos
The core is stable
Ignore the peripheral fracas
Whirlwind of ideas
Guarded by faulty premises
Nurtured for long
(mis)guided travelers
Listen to the intent
Look beyond the edges
Cacophony of hearts
Drowns the sanity
Hold on little longer
Sanity will prevail
Face the chaos
Trespass the faulty boundaries
 May 2015
Poetic T
"Where do I begin"
It was mostly normal, then it wasn't.
I'd say it was *quick
but it wasn't,
**** the pain, never felt anything
like this, my flesh as if it was pealing
One layer at a time.

"I felt clammy"
"I felt bleak numbness"
"Then I felt nothing"


DAY ONE (Death)

I was eyed open, I had pasted in
Fear, vision bleached as if
No one was longer here, but
I saw all the tears, hands upon
My cold ridged chest. I could
Make out voices as if spoken
Far, but all was unclear.


DAY TWO (morgue)

I felt each blade cut upon me,
Violating my flesh, had  I not
Suffered in life, pain, anguish.
Now they handle me as if I
Were nothing, but parts to be
Throw on scales, is life weighed
Out, no dignity even in death.
I hear the voices, footsteps pass
My eyes are still open, my vision
Of aluminium surrounds. They
Stitched me, but I am neither
Whole or one. They took from
Me, I have no heart it is gone,
They itch its maddening I need
To touch but they rub on cold
Flesh touching dead bone.


WEEK  ONE (Coffin)

I hear tears as my gaze is forward
Never closed, no coins for the
Man of the river to find peace,
I'm now travelling all alone.
My eyes wide open, they touch
Upon my artificially kept skin,
Make up to hide those spots
Where death has prematurely
Set in. They cry their tears on
Wood they fall, some are
Meaningful, sorrow sensed
In there voice. Others are just
Show boating their grief, only
To see if there was anything in
The cookie jar now I'm gone.  


MONTH ONE (Enclosed Isolation)

The darkness is never changing,
Time has no meaning underground.
I scream in silence, my lips, vocals
Do not move but inside it reverberates
Around. Nice interior, soft on dead
Flesh. I saw it land on me, that blue bottle
Buzzing around, It sat upon me, did
What it wanted, now I feel them within.
If I were alive would this be a sensation
Of being ticked or horror as they eat
What is now decaying within.

MONTH SIX (Alone)

"I miss them"
But time moved on they feasted
For what was an eternity, consuming
Me, then upon themselves. Till all
Was still, and only death was
Welcomed once again in this
Lonely place of wood and bone.  
I am pure of the mortal world,
No flesh, sight unseen that went
Long ago. I am so isolated down
Here, no longer do I sense footsteps
Above, the mumbling of voices
Silenced never returning to this
Casket of torment in the darkness
I am trapped within alone.


YEAR??

I can see why the dead hate you all,
Leaving us in these dark prisons,
Why leave us like this, why not
Cremation let us in the essence
Of ash be free. I am trapped in this
White cage of bone, waiting  for that
Time when to dust it falls. I am a
Dead man hear me moan, You hear
Those noises in the graveyards, when
All is still. it is the dead in there prisons
Never free, till bone is to dust. I give
One warning to those above, burn
Your dead lest yourself you find
Trapped within a prison forsaken in this *shell.
 May 2015
Terrin Leigh
voices blend, a buzzing murmur
steam swirls, mocha wafts
caffeinated atmosphere
java fog looms above

steam swirls, mocha wafts
music caresses lightly the ambience
caffeinated atmosphere
lively line of addicts

music caresses lightly the ambience
softly, I fall into clouded thought
lively line of addicts
contrast my peaceful bliss

softly, I fall into clouded thought
pen the pensive rumination
contrast my peaceful bliss
busy baristas hollering orders

pen the pensive rumination
inspiration in café population
busy baristas hollering orders
while I ponder life's purpose

inspiration in café population
doodle, draw, and dream
while I ponder life's purpose
I sigh, my mind screams

doodle, draw, and dream
let it out, let me be
I sigh, my mind screams
voices blend, a buzzing murmur
 Apr 2015
Eleanor Rigby
Blank are your eyes
when you look in the sun
and pretend you're alive.


F.Z.**N
 Apr 2015
Carl Joseph Roberts
Maybe We Should*

Maybe we should stop and think
Of the things we do each day
Give ourselves room to grow
Learn to change our ways

Maybe we should hear ourselves
When we speak words of faith
Not be quick to judge someone
For the path that they must take

Maybe we should see some things
In a new and different light
First walk a mile in someones shoes
To know what it is like

Maybe we should just try more
To live a better life
Make the world a better place
And leave the hate behind

Maybe we should

Poem by: *
Carl Joseph Roberts
If liked, add to a few and help it trend.
 Apr 2015
Molly
The presumably burnt-out light bulb
merely needed to be
twisted back into place in order to
flicker on again.
The grey-haired woman standing on the chair
sighs, glad
she will not have to buy new ones.
 Apr 2015
Molly
I know where you are right now because I have been there too, I know how it feels to be so sad for so long that you can't imagine being happy again, to be so sad for so long that you stop trying to be happy again and so you just feed the sadness, just try to give it what it wants in the hope that it will be content enough to spare you, but feeding it only helps it grow. You have to starve it out. You have to lock it up, have to tell it "no", have to fight it. It will claw at the back of your eyelids, it will moan and howl so loud that you cannot hear your own thoughts, you will ache because it is aching and you and it are one but you have to remind yourself that it is created entirely of you, but only a portion of you is made of it. You have to make it shrink. It will not be easy. There will be days when you give in, when you feel bad for it, withering away, and so you throw it scraps of food under the table but there will also be days when it is silent. It will have grown so weak that it can no longer pound on the door, it will lie still there in the dark and you will forget about it, if only for a moment, and you have to hold onto that. There will be good days, days when you think to yourself "this is how happy people feel on a regular basis," days that remind you why you are fighting this beast in the first place and the next day may be bad again, you may not hear that silence again for weeks but when you cannot see an end to this torture, you have to remind yourself of the good days, you have to keep them tucked underneath your pillow and reminisce about the way walking felt easy for a day before you go to bed, you have to keep telling yourself that although this is an uphill battle, it will be so much easier on the way down the other side and the view from the mountaintop is breathtaking. You have to convince yourself that you want that mountaintop, have to tell yourself that the good days are worth the fight, that the sadness will not last forever, that you are not made of darkness although it is made of you. You have to starve it out; it is so much easier to live when you only have to feed yourself.
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