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 Mar 2016
The Dedpoet
I read in a poem,
Sky black,
             Scorched Earth.
But the night is a jigsaw:
I sit on my porch and constellate
The fires, the fathers of worlds
While I think of the words
To perceive what I will never touch.

My spirit ascending
To touch a thousand
Light years of light,
They have never heard a word,
So I write the fire,
Like a son to father,
The poem becomes a legacy
Of flames thirsting for words,
I drink in the light
And give to them words,
They will never know why,
The poem will reach them
As an ember of misunderstanding.

The immortal word
Is a light reflected .
I will write to the stars,
And when the poem reaches,
I will have gone from this place,
I write because I am a man,
Mortal and dying,
My words will remain.

The stars constellate men.
 Mar 2016
Awesome Annie
Tucked within the mountain of Promise, just past the forest of Truth. Runs a stream that glistens of dreams, and grants eternal youth.

Fairy's dance among the flowers, and sing a song of grace. Always adding into fable, another fortunate travelers face.

The stream glistens in the sun, and it's allure will steal your breath. One drop that passes through your lips, will save your soul from death.

Some will spend forever looking, desperate to stop youth from fading. Endlessly searching for this fountain, they waste life away crusading.

Be careful what you wish for, it's the warning the wind will softly tell. I'm forever blessed in beauty, but ****** for eternity between heaven and hell.
 Dec 2015
Parallel we run our course
Only difference in choice
You may say it is the scenery
Or how you see
When in the midst of knowing
We know nothing and all
She counts her shells

her feet sand ribbed
her toes ricely white
her hair windy vagabond
her eyes low tide sea.

She gives me back my years.

Through tears
I count eternity.
The monk shows me the scar
where he took the bullet
the 70s fiery rebel
is now a Shiva-ite by faith.

I try to see in his eyes
remnant of youth’s spark
believing the fire never dies
from time now buried in the dark.

The March wind blows the dust
banyan trunks make a cool shade
in the lull he relieves a past
no way could he obliterate.

A time was I held a gun
the police was hot on my trail
day night I was on the run
in the pride of being a rebel.

Cast shadows an eerie silence
now evening could no longer wait
I wave to him from a distance
Shiva waits on him to meditate.
 Sep 2015
Musfiq us shaleheen
when the silence comes down
in the darkness
the space between you and me
is just a sigh

some of the awaking words
floating in the mind
where tunes comes from
the next door

words to have come out
poetry as the whispering of  
dry dropping leaves

come up in the
hopeless romantic flute
comes on the
tune of the lost love

a portrait of broken dreams,
black and white
where exists a defeated faded face
and your silhouette
@Musfiq us shaleheen
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 Sep 2015
Amitav Radiance
Love is contrary to popular beliefs
The heart knows when it descends
to fill every corner with tranquility
Taking you to a higher realm
where you connect with another soul
There is no doubt in the mind
when eyes have met and got fascinated
Resolve of the soul is higher
to delve deeper into each other’s world
 Sep 2015
SG Holter
Hey, what have we here?
For me? What did you draw?  
A little dream?
That's really nice.

I love the way you have coloured  
In the lines that connect the
Hearts of friends you
Have yet

To make, to your own.
They may still be stick
Figures, but I sure
Get the idea.

Can I really keep this?
I'll put it on my fridge, so I
Can see it every day.
Thank you, sweet little teacher.
 Sep 2015
I paint by candlelight
Soft glow on even softer strokes
Bringing me to a time when softness was all I knew
Sitting before a blank canvas, the rhythmic breathing before giving birth
I have not been blessed with such creation but as a woman, I know
Creamy edges twist pictures, a kaleidoscope of color
High mountain mothers with cool, starlit-sparkle brooks flowing
Gray wolves howling from their peaks
Sweep across this space in deep green wonder
Blazing, heart-of-fire crimson sunsets
Rich and brilliant, coming to bright life in the darkness
Then fading into shadowy white pull of half-moon silver
Charcoal, violet, deepest black
Ink stains across a lonely sky
My heart beat stutters in memory
Trembling hands pull the flame closer in hopes to bring warmth
For shades of winter glaze my vision over with ice, with cold
Spectacular cyclic formations stabbing through the tendons of my fingertips
The chill a stark reminder that I paint like Hel
Half in darkness
Half in light
 Sep 2015
Joe Cole
A shooting star
Flashing across the earth
But shooting stars burn out
As do our wildest dreams
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