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 Apr 2014
Yhama ButterFly
haiku

Just one look into your eyes
makes the difference,
heartbeat skips one-thousand times.

~Butterfly εїз ©
 Apr 2014
Yhama ButterFly
I'm the sky.
You're the sun.
Light beams inside of me.
I am exposed, flooded with love
and, I can't resist your light.

~ Butterfly εїз ©
 Apr 2014
Yhama ButterFly
Sweet is the memory
delicious flavors filled the air

romance served in a bakery

steam swirls in circles around
cups of hot toffee

golden flakes of buttery dough
melting oils on warm skin

moist filling inside of cherry pies
taste of kisses and candy

thickness of syrup on baked
peaches

sweat oozing hot-to-touch

cold whipped cream swirled in
bananas and wafers

we wrestle in milk and honey
feeling comatose

falling simultaneous on waxed paper
coated in sugary powders
baked in high temperatures
we become well done

crashing,
we overdosed on a sugar rush high

~Butterfly εїз ©
 Apr 2014
K Balachandran
1.A life never tranquil
---------------------------------
On the wave,
catamarans dance.


2.Facets
----------
Beauty is the beast

3.Koan
------
Story ends before the beginning.
Catamaran---sailing raft formed of a number of logs lashed together.
Kon-- a Zen Buddhist conundrum/ a paradox to meditate up on
 Apr 2014
S Smoothie
what do I do?

I try to go forward but only bump into you

I cling to the hope that those love strings are broken

and I trip up on those knots you tied with love left unspoken



the heart wants what the heart wants

from this there is no disguise

you read my eyes like paragraphs,

my weary smile hides the sweetest lies

my tears hold untold chapters in my silent cries





so I ask again what else is there but to go on

waiting for an infinite love to die in my soul

every distraction void  I live for every hopeless sign.

what the **** else is there,

but to make a heart once whole

learn to live half a beat at a time?
 Apr 2014
Sean Critchfield
It seems
that the moon is
blushing.

Mars must have
whispered something
sweet.
 Apr 2014
Jonny Angel
O the wind,
the beautiful wind,
criss-crossing
in gale forces
& to feel,
to feel it's sting
while standing
in the jet stream,
is to commune,
to commune,
to kiss
the Gods
in Heaven.
 Apr 2014
Sally A Bayan
She is a rose...
of course,
It is but natural
she was born
with those thorns...
but thorned or otherwise
she rises in splendour
beauteous in every colour...
her petals, oh so fragrant
When dried, they are more redolent
especially when kept in a sachet...

She brightens our days with
the many colors and tones of her poetry.
some may be sad  outbursts,
reactions that could have been stirred
by daily circumstances...
others are gentle reflections,
it doesn't matter...
they are roses arranged in a vase,
or scattered
among a garden of flowers...
she  showers us with a variety
of her chosen thoughts for the day...
it is always a mystery,
she keeps us in suspense!

Thorns are an accepted part of her body
even when she tries to spare her fingers,
she gets pricked, just the same,
she  deals with the wound
as she would always do,
just as tests of life, like thorns,
are part and parcel of our daily lives...
she knows very well those roads to be taken
and those to be avoided...

On a stressful or gloomy day
when our spirits are clouded,
almost sagging towards the ground,
when under the weather
when restless or anxious, or
when needing solace,
the rose-y colors of her poetry
do their best to comfort us
some days they are red
other times, pinkish
other days they are yellow
or immaculately white,
peach-y, at times, seeming delicious
one may be tempted to have a bite...

Don't know how or why...but we
must not question these miracles of God...
time comes for a rose to be dormant...
during these winter moments in her life
she  lives, she exists in silence...but
underneath, her mind is so alive....

From deep inside, she writes,
she hears, she reads,
gathering pictures, words,
anything important in sight
wherever, whatever the source
her cloth-bound journal is always ready
to  record her new-found discovery
all pages would soon be consumed...
a new one to take its place, is presumed.

Petals may fall or pinched one by one,
her stem, may be left to stand on the ground
but strength is like second skin to this rose
she has risen above past thorny episodes
surely, she will rise above future ones,
if they come...
these days, she is in  some kind
of a wonderful state...
i pray she will always be that way.

she is a sturdy wall to lean on,
she is indomitable...
her stem may sway,
she may bend, but
she rarely snaps
she is a rose...and
will always be
a rose...

Her name is KELLY ROSE...


Sally

Copyright 2014
Rosalia Rosario A, Bayan
For you, dear Kelly Rose...I hope you like it.
Stay as sweet as you are...
 Apr 2014
Poetic T
Jump up and down does
the world move an inch,
for if we all jumped together
would the world move a smidge .

A jumping bean in the solar
system, where we all jump
up and down, to the left
we jump to the right up
and down we all do jump.
Are little planet swinging
like a pendulum, one
moment day the next it
is night.

We thought we could play
with the planet until the day
some one instead of the left
on did jump to the right and
in to the sun we hopped,
with a puff out went 6
billion lights. Just because you
can do something, never be
a show off as it'll smack
back in the face...
 Apr 2014
Raphael Uzor
We die every night
Fortunately, we wake up,
Yawn, and say, "morning!"*


© Raphael Uzor
 Apr 2014
Dorothy
Green peppers
Red peppers
Onions
and shallots
Get ready for some intense flavor to hit your pallets


A splash of vinegar
Salt
Chives
And garlic
Your tongue will dance for joy and actually seem to frolic

Epis
Sos Pwa
Rice
And baked chicken
The taste buds in your mouth wont know what hit them

Four hours later and I've enriched in my culture
I'm almost like a new woman
Because today I learned to cook food from my parents native nation
The time and effort was so very worth it
And now I feel a little bit more Haitian
Creole Translations:
Epis = herbs and spices
Sos Pwa Rouge = Red bean sauce puree
 Apr 2014
Nandini
The hollow in your eyes,
hazelnut radiance in the dark,
burnt with wait for the glimpse of the starlight.
the hollow within the eyes cant ever be measured...those deep glistening pools  i want to dive deep and drink of it.
 Apr 2014
Shay-za-di
the only thing i can offer,
is my shoulder and the truth.

i agree the unknown can be hurtful,
so come out from under your veil,
the shadows that you call home,
join me in the light, come.

life is not sensible, so why should we be?
if we didnt give into emotions, where would humans be?
what is worse, the unknown or the untrue?
i know men are men, but there are some who are pure and true.
a conversation repeating in my head, in memory of hs
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