Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Jul 2024
Traveler
Is it so hard to see
we are all spiritual beings!

These human identities have been manufactured,
in environmental wreckage!
Epigenetically manipulated
to fit society norms..

Now it’s time to take a new form!
Traveler 🧳 Tim
When the night's moon is a quarter
She stands in breast deep water
The skylight beams on her wish
If comes her way a catch of fish.

She's the robust woman of night
And it's no fancy's flight
She gritfully spreads her net
Even when the river is in spate.

She knows well when the tides swell
The games are not easy to catch
Where the river meanders to a curve
She waits low tide holding her nerve.

When the silvery streaks struggle for breath
She looks not real but a myth
A mud princess with a golden heart
An apparition seen but can't be touched.

On a river with eons of length
She struggles with all her strength
I won't ever get even a chance
She's too focussed to give me a glance.
The path strewn with hurdles and gravels
40 years is a long way to travel
Two souls sewn with love and peace
Two hearts dipped in bliss
Two minds not always in same strength
But determined within to walk the length.

40 years of building the nest
Patience and endurance put to hard test
Before one day the saplings become a tree
Heart upon heart two becomes three
Through fall and rise and sun downpour
Years flew as the three becomes four.

It's no easy work to raise a family
In all sadness live strong and happily
Blocks are thrown doubts are cast
Moments of life try to break the trust
But we didn't bow continued the thrive
A grownup family now, we number five.
40 years together
 Jul 2024
guy scutellaro
golden curtains and hard wood floor
longing and lightning

I dream a dozen roses.

I want to hear your voice
I need to feel you

sitting next to me, sister

i dream a dozen roses, beloved

and golden curtains touching the hard wood floor

I dream a dozen roses. little bird

your heart smiles,
angels and wings waiting

one spirit

I dream a dozen roses
white in color,
heart shaped
filled with hope

I dream a dozen roses,
are you still here
dear sister, Lisa?

surely

gentle spirit,
dear sister, Lisa

darling of light

I dream a dozen roses
 Jul 2024
South-by-Southwest
In the December of my time
I find that silence
feeds me sweetly
without dread .

"I'm all right , right now."

Late at night ,
bathed in the moon's
delight . . .

"I feel all right , alright."

Just say "let it go."
Let the emptiness
swallow you whole .

"Just let it go now."

It's all so right .
Close your eyes ,
Hold memories tight .

"So tight."

"It's alright , all right now."
 Jul 2024
Marshal Gebbie
Often pulled the Dragon's tail
Through dangers days in life's travail,
Sweet, the taste of risk survived
Whilst cheating Reaper's plot, contrived,
Feeling hot sweat crease the brow
Not understanding... why or how?
Chance, that fickle, flighty touch
May push my luck, that inch too much....
Then knowing well, on that fine day,
I'll meet my bitter end...and pay!

Ha... Wouldn't change a minute of it all,
Love it!!

M@Foxglove.Taranaki.NZ
Response in league wit Anais Vionet's little ditty, "Curtains".
1965
she was 15
and I was 5

The reclining sun tanned her face
her eyes hidden in 60s goggles
and the vast wheat field behind
colored her brown.

Can't remember if it was Agfa or Orwo
the tint was of distant land
and Virginia came to mind.

It wasn't the girl
standing on a rice field
eyes lowered blushing
the colours of her glass bangles
irrecognizable in black and white
that I could easily fall in love with.

But I cried to be with the Virginia Girl
and I was only 5.

She is still 15 in the timeless print
and I'm 5.
Originally unwritten in 1965, now given the light of words.
If alive, she would be 73.
Next page