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 Aug 2014
Tom Leveille
and here i am again
at the intersection
of pedestrian language
& old wives tales
swallowing gum
like 7 year memories
opening umbrellas inside
cause i can't seem get away
from all of this rain
i ******* with my left hand
cause i was told
back in highschool that
"it feels like someone else is doing it"
it gets me wondering
about the difference between
losing you and finding out
that some one else found you
or my sleep
or lack thereof
its starting to tear me apart
i keep having this dream
where you are in
an unfamiliar body of water
trying to wash my poetry
off of your hands
or the one where
something happens in my chest
every time you sit
on someone else's bed
i'm tired of feeling like something you've misplaced
but don't have the heart
to look for anymore
tired of you saying my name
like you're trying to bury it
i'm tired of wondering
if you can tell the difference
between the absence
of my voice & silence
the other day
i almost started sobbing
at work when a woman
asked me about
our equipment
i was explaining how
things come apart
and almost mentioned your name
it made me think
of how you used to say
things like "what would you do
if i showed up on your doorstep
one day?" now, i haunt
the windows in my house
i don't leave for weeks at a time
i sit on the porch like the dog
you didn't shoot behind the shed
the one that refuses to die
until you come home again
i told somebody once, that
you didn't even know
what my voicemail sounded like
i wonder if they thought
it was because you
are so important that i never
let it ring that many times
before picking up
or if you dont know
what it sounds like
because you've never called
you can't be the ****** weapon
and the search party
i'm tired of all the seats
to the ferris wheel in my chest
being empty
tired of your voice
being the one i look for
in abandoned places
that one sound i beg
to bounce back
down vacant hallways
i just seem to stand there
in all of that quiet
like someone looking for a mistake
on an eviction notice
so i guess the hardest part
isn't letting go
it's forgetting
you ever had a grip
in the first place
and since you've been gone
i wonder if when
you pushed yourself away from me
you used your left hand
so it felt like someone else did it
 Aug 2014
Francie Lynch
There's a silence in the evening,
A silence most displeasing.
It's not the absence of mowers running,
Or bedsheets flapping, motors humming.
Trains still shunt, foghorns blast,
Where are the sounds
From our past?

It's not the sound of contrary laughing
Walking from a parent's lashing.
Something's missing,  sounds are gone,
Familiar sounds from our lawns.

The sound of rope slapping cement,
Fantasy games kids invent.
An echoing slapshot before, "Car!"
These missing sounds are so bizarre.

Those yestergames we played in jest,
Like Hide and Seek at dusk was best.
But outside games gave way to screens,
I'd rather hear childish screams.
 Aug 2014
Marian
Yes, we shall walk through ferns as tall as our waist
And step over the beige colored mushrooms
We'll sit down and dream beside the creek
And let the melody of a cello and harp duet
Refresh us and give us strength anew
We'll live inside that old-fashioned home
With lovely wallpaper in nearly every room
We'll sit down together on the comfortable window seat
Overlooking the dreamy farm with tall, tall grass
And rustic fences here and there in those verdant pastures
We can sip cold Dr. Pepper on the privacy of our verandah
Enjoying the silence together--me and you
We'll stroll through gardens full of iris blooms
Take walks down our flowering cherry tree lane
Walk inside the beautiful forest with wild honeysuckle vines
And periwinkles carpeting the forest floor
Yes, we'll wander aimlessly all day
Maybe walk a few dogs and ride some horses
This is our dream that may never come true
But we'll keep on wishing for it--me and you

*~Marian~
Written for my Mom Hilda inspired by the poem she wrote for me
Titled 'My Dream For You'!!!
Enjoy!!! ~~~<3
 Aug 2014
Joe Cole
It's simple, write me a poem
A simple poem???ñ
Yes, a simple poem about a leaf
Can you impress with a poem about something so obscure?
I believe you can
Just let your imagination take over
Let inspiration flow
Come on kids impress me
Take that leaf and make it grow
I await with interest to see what comes out of this
 Aug 2014
krissie
in the brightest corner of the forest trees,
rested a gentle and pure autumn leaf
he never quite asked much for anything
just water and a home from his strong tree

but alas! winter was close to being the season
the leaf heard from the tree that he had to leave it
stunned with deep worry, the leaf begged for a reason
but the leaf heard the tree and he had to believe it

so one by one, the little leaf observed his friends
being ripped from the branches to their curious ends
but this leaf stayed strong, he did not waver or pretend
yes, the leaf stayed strong, he was the last one left

but alas! the wind came along and asked the leaf why:
"why do you stay here when the days have gone awry?
pretty soon, dear friend, you'll have to say goodbye
make it easy on yourself and don't live a lie"

the leaf replied: "you would not believe all i've seen
my friends, they've all left, and i'm left here to grieve
i cling to my home, you see, i have to believe
that i'm more than a passing, more than a leaf"

the wind answered with a startling gust:
"is it the tree you believe and not me you trust?
you'll be fine, dear friend, you will not turn to dust
it is a new life, you'll see, but you will adjust"

the leaf retorted, with a shake of his sides:
"i'm afraid for my home, my friends and my life
wherever i may go, will i make there all right?
the world is so big and i'm in such a fright"

the wind replied, "the world is never perfect
at times we must leave that which makes us certain
the harder our path, the longer we must search it
this home will belong to others; they soon will learn it"

the tree, trying to sleep, finally awoke from its dream
"dear leaf, don't you know, you must let go of me?
we've had some great times, but i will soon freeze
we must part ways; i will have other leaves"

the leaf became frazzled, fed up with his options
he changed colors for the tree; the tree didn't want him
"why did i spend all these months to be forgotten,
to be cast out so lonely, afraid and unwanted?"

the wind said, "fear not, dear friend, you may feel lonely now
but i am wherever you are, and i won't let you down
i am your new home, and when you feel me around
just know i'm with you, and i'll lift you off the ground"

the leaf resolved with a steady hesitation
he had lost many friends but gained one with patience
"i am still uncertain but i trust my realization
that new beginnings are endings of greater elation"

so in the brightest corner of the forest trees,
floated away a gentle and pure autumn leaf
where he was to go, he couldn't say with certainty
but he had the wind to carry him, and that was all he'd need
i wanted to tell a story for the challenge; this spilled out. i don't even know.
 Aug 2014
Holly Nicole
Slowly and calmly
Down the brook
Floating silently as
An owl stalks it's prey
The quiet leaf
Fallen days before
Drifting
Drifting
Blown with the wind
Carried by the current
No place to be and
No time to be there
Perhaps this is the picture
Of true serenity
Peace and tranquility

Nothing but a leaf
A slow and gently moving
Leaf
Inspired by another poet, with his poem encouraging young poets to write about leaves
 Aug 2014
SG Holter
There once was a town in the world.
In this little town, lived a girl.
She barely could write,
But sat up all night.
Carefully carving each word.

The poem she wrote was a dream.
A thought that had grown, it'd seem.
The frailest of strands;
Words woven by hands.
Like droplets of diamond
Downstream.

The morning sun shone on the stairs.
He sat there, his face holding tears.
Her father, and all
That little girl called
Her family, burdened with fears.

She sat down beside the poor man.
Put paper inside his strong hand.
She left him to read,
As if sowing a seed.
And so, the whole healing began.

Her words had a life of their own.
Of wisdom beyond any known.
They spoke of a place
That was floating in space,
Yet it's beings were far from alone.

Why cry when there's laughter?  
Why fight when there's dance?
Why hate when there's family,
Fun and romance?


Her words were so simple, so clean.
Yet painted in colours unseen  
Through verses and lines,
And symbols and signs...
To adults, elders, infants and teens.

It took not religion, it seems.
No army, no guns or machines.
To shape this old world
To the words of a girl
With paper, a pen... and a dream.
 Aug 2014
Jack
~

The night is silent
as evening drapes her cloth
above all that is seen
and shadows sit wondering…
what shapes will find them

Thoughts invade these hours
while fireflies sift through
evergreens now still,
seeking only but a soft breeze
whispering sweet dreams on feathered branches

And I sit here on the lawn,
counting minutes, feeling the emptiness
the midnight skies seep,
longing for what will come
on the eastern horizon

For that is where I shall find you,
glowing in tangerine ribbons,
painting pink clouds in dawn’s blushing brush strokes,
igniting a new day in effervescent colors…
as the sun rises and I smile

As once again we converse,
drinking coffee and loving life, enjoying
what comes from the awareness
that friendship truly does exist
with each new day we face
For my good friend Ana Sophia. Thank you for bringing sunlight to my days.
 Aug 2014
GitacharYa VedaLa
I'm a collection of solitudes
A silence derived from the summation of all languages
 Aug 2014
Doy A
"Always"
Is an understatement
For the number of times I think of you

You see,
"Always" doesn't quite understand what it means
To wonder how your smile manages to lock itself
In my heart
And how your voice plays in my head
Like an annoying alarm clock
Whose snooze button I never even care to press
"Always" doesn't understand
The way I see you in every daydream
And the way I fit you into every metaphor
I could ever come up with

So when you asked me if always thought of you
I said, "No."

No, I don't always think of you
I don't have to.
Inspired by Rudy Francisco.
 Aug 2014
SG Holter
Waves form within a
Man alone in silence.

Wind moves old wood in
Walls. I close my everything.

The two sides I see of
All I see, meet.

What's a spark or two
Between good swords?


Sometimes I agree to dis-
Agree with either me or my-

Self; the first thought I think
Is rarely the thing I think I'll

Believe. Will this **** me?
No, it'll be with you forever.

A samurai's infant children's
Eyes begging him to reach

Down before he leaves again,
To kiss. But no. So rigid

Is my will to live; to draw from
Everything, life.
 Aug 2014
Jack
~


Fragile petals
saffron sighs
blushing sunsets
butterflies
silver tea cups
marmalade
piano keys
songs we played
whispered wishes
morning dew
twilight kisses
thoughts of you
hummingbirds
butter creams
beating hearts
midnight dreams
poetry
phrases rhymed
words of love
summertime
promises
skies of blue
you and me
*forever true
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