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 May 2020
IntoTheGale

From the sky they fall-
The galaxy in your eyes
Gifts me tonight’s stars


2.
That sigh from your lips
An utterance of longing
A song of desire


3.
If tonight I sleep
My dreams will be of your eyes
Will be of your kiss
Knitting your muffler
As childhood...
Your black dress smells of me
I can't see the white jasmine flower without you...
"You are a jasmine flower yourself"
"My jasmine flower..."
Oh, my sweet little friend !
Play with me
In the glimpse of childhood memory
Wanting your shoes
Crying to the sun...
Cut my black hair
Turning to a balloon for you
Reaching to the city of you...

شال گردنت را می بافم
...مثل بچگی
پیراهن سیاهت بوی مرا می دهد
نمی توانم گُلِ یاسِ سفید را بی تو ببینم
"تو خودت گُلِ یاسی"
..."تو گُلِ یاسِ منی"
!دوستِ کوچک و شیرینِ من
به یاد بچگی
با من بازی کن
کفش های تو را می خواهم
تا آفتاب گریه کنم
موهای سیاهم را بِبُر
بادبادکی برای تو می شوم
...به شهر تو می رسم
 May 2020
Eudora
They linger in the mind
like clouds floating by
in the azure sky.

They bring tears
like gushing waterfalls
streaming from the eyes.

They leave a yearning heart
with gentle prayers
and pleading sighs.
 May 2020
Karen Lang
Find meaning in your pain,
your trauma,
your wounds
Become the container
of your story
not the contained
To deeply connect
we need to unravel
unfold
be vulnerable
exposed
In this space
we see it all
In his space
we expand
We allow
We heal
Unravel the old and welcome the new
 May 2020
lX0st
A distant dissonance
Deepens in threat
As my lips form new syllables
And fingers, new frets
It’s my grandmother’s voice—
My namesake, in fact—
That waltzes in echoes
Through bright chambered chest
Amassing new power
Revving dense to unfurl
Like peonies in bloom, or
Cherry blossom pearls
In descent.

It’s true:
That for which I’m meant—
Good time,
Good fortune,
Good riddance—
I will only know
After roared repent
Where I’ll expel
Dusk’s detriment,
And bellow soul’s
Percussive song
In long-overdue
Performance
 May 2020
Ciel Noir
what force or what pressure
could ever
compress you

enough to force you
to transform

deep down in your core
may be one filthy diamond

waiting in the grime
and the coal
 Apr 2020
B E Cults
on top of a broken throne,
a hopeless ghost that eloped with control
and then leapt off a cliff when
he was supposed to invoke
all those happy memories,
sits uncomfortably.

half of his entropy flows from disasters detached from his history
and the rest is the wind through the trees grown from bitter seeds
thrown into the dirt of what was meant to be forever.

crowns melt with enough heat.
clouds swell above the heads of those condoning his death,
a true crown for the ugly...

off with his head!
off with his head!
off with his head!

he sees them seething and he forgives himself for being a fool
as their screams retreat from the growing light of oblivion.
#spoondeep #alldumb #love #breakup #woke #death #rapcareer #wedding #kingshit
#otherperson #shutup #already #starvingartist #duh
 Mar 2020
Pagan Paul
.
Watch the morning tide
wash them all aside,
my castles by the shore
are gone forever more.


A billion grains of golden sand,
the remnants of my dreams,
float suspended in the current
and I drift along with them.
They in their watery solution,
me in the spaces of my mind.
Drifting.
The grains of sand sink and fade,
replaced by neon chain linked stars
and the sense of being completely empty,
not at all devoid. Just .. empty.
Drifting.
The floatation tank of loss
clasps the dreams with frigid fingers,
shrieking to be given its toy,
threatening never to open again.
But the Suns call from faraway skies
heralding to opine freedom,
release the fragments to individual broadcasts,
reaching out, out, out to the deep.
An umbilical tether for a fragile boat
is slipped to play adrift in a storm.
Letting go. Letting go.
Watch the morning tide wash them all aside.
Letting go.

I cast a mind spell,
wish them all farewell,
my castles in the sea
are evermore set free.


And my mind though now it be thought less
has no need of castles, for it is a fortress.

© Pagan Paul (15/03/20)
.
My 300th poem on hp!
.
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