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 May 2015
Sarah Mulqueen
Blanketed in your warm embrace.
Cradling me
Carrying me threw time and space.
Everything becomes right.
 May 2015
Arcassin B
By Arcassin B & fnb

AB:
I could turn a butterfly into a daffodil tear,
Growing the inside out,
Fly with me to paradise,
And forget all your peers,
Or you lose your body like poltergeist.
FNB:
Feel the soft grass glide beneath your toes
The sweet flower scent rush through your nose
To paradise together we flew,
Or from my grave, crawling back to you,
AB
And as I keep crawling,
Your loving keeps calling,
Not mad at your insecurity sometimes,
Red lights and stop signs,
Freeze in place while your ahead,
Like arriving in Oakland,
Please just follow what's along the lines,
Leave loose ends but your minds ties,
But we don't die we multiply,
We become as one,
And one in mind.
Thanks ally :) and also I'm back lol
 May 2015
CA Guilfoyle
Gathering colors of day
sea of green viridian, washing storms of grey
seagulls cry in shades colored blue
how mad the ocean's raving tune
it sweeps away the end of day, a hopeful sun
to paint the sky of blackness
paleness of moon
rises, fades
beyond the sway
of silvery shades
night shimmers its way
into red and blue
where fiery clouds ignite
the day once more anew.
 May 2015
Dark Jewel
What lies ahead,
*Is a future worth fighting for.
 May 2015
Shruti Atri
Another day goes by...

I look at my reflection
And I haven't grown,
The same eyes, wrought with boredom--
Makes me wonder what part of me was sold.

I hear the sound of blood flow
As my heart thrums in a simpering rhythm;
It gives me an assurance that I live,
But makes me question whether I'm truly alive?

I feel a slumber has taken hold,
It's got me where it hurts most;
I can't move away from the pain,
And that scares me!

A painful sleep, never waking, never dreaming,
Just suspended in simple stillness...
This dull affliction makes me wonder,
Will I ever remember what it's like to be awake?
 May 2015
Autumn
I put my earrings in
                                                                ­                        and walked away.
back to myself.
                                                         ­                                away from you.
and all the rest,
                          for eternity,
                                               blessed be the ones that got away,
for I am here.
                                                

                          now  and  for  the  rest  of  eternity

farewell,
                dearest lost autumn.

hello stranger, for I greet you with open arms.....
 May 2015
Richard B Sebastian
Mystical smoke of blue and red,
Twists and curls,
Dark the night, and silent the air,
As I saw him, teeth bared.

He was but an illusion,
Of smoke and of changing shades of colour,
And of mysterious existence,
For exist he must have, that vision.

But what is an illusion, a vision?
It must have hints of truth, of reality, must it not?
Hence how would you describe what you saw?
Unless it was but a meaningless hallucination.

Sometimes the answers seems so clear,
If only one just relaxes and look longer,
Like how the stars seem to multiply,
The longer you look into the clear night sky.

Dancing flames, crackling wood,
The smoke turns thick, the illusion becoming solid,
And I sat mystified, making the vision my reality,
For it was good.

I stretched out my hand,
The smoke engulfing my hand and slowly up my arm,
Either I become one with the illusion or,
The illusion becomes a reality.

He takes shape, I see paws,
His teeth still bared, his fur bristling
The abstractness of him, the reality of him...;
I dive into the smoke, being one with dreams.

I open my eyes, and there he stands,
The complete form of a canine;
Did the illusion have truth?
Or did reality succumb to a dream?
Where is the dividing line I wonder?
 May 2015
William A Poppen
There are poems hidden in the limbs of the willow
Lines of rhyme flowing from the music of the wren
Sonnets sitting like angels atop clouds resting on hilltops
Waiting to instill those with pen and ink to script lyrics to enlighten
There are triolets among the petals of coneflowers, pink, red and yellow

For poems are the breath of our life, the sustenance of the soul
Wars recalled in verse, memories intended to calm
Songs of poetry sing messages cascading from the heart
When gods, or monsters, or disease destroy the planet
The last words, lines forming an elegy, will drift from the debris
 May 2015
Sia Jane
I remember overhearing at the tennis game
  "I always take painkillers, I can't seem to get
                 the doctor to prescribe anything else
            and I never sleep, and so with my morning
              coffee, I slip some liquor in it
                      and take some Anadin, as simple as that."
      I sat and listened. Just in earshot.
            "It just calms me down and sets me off for the day."
              I see her take out a flask.
               Opening the lid she breathes in.
             "And days like this," she giggles.
         "I bring extra."
     Both the women now giggle
             I smile
              maybe this will work for me.

                    That night I went home and straight
                       to the medicine cabinet
                they sold paracetamol in tubs of hundreds
                   I was only 14
                   I'd only take a handful at a time
         not enough to harm me
                    little enough to go unnoticed
                         I felt the rush even before I took them
                         I still have the journal from that time
                   an off-balance teenager who never fit in
                         a longing for freedom so deep
                      maybe this could give me the wings
                             to fly.

© Sia Jane
More typewriter words. Format is how the typewriter print is and can be seen IG: thelunazine or FB: siajanewords
Time passes
Nothing lasts
Nobody cares
Nobody there
Heart cries
Love hurts
Minds shatter
People go
So alone
Nothing matters
Without you
Lost love
All gone
Just say
Two words
Copyright © Chris Smith 2000
 May 2015
Shruti Atri
I sat alone and aloof
A Book in hand
And words in mind,
Leaving my reality behind.

He came from nowhere,
Nowhere that I could see
And asked about the words I read;
But for all his words, my words were dead.

We spoke for a while,
Hot coffee warming our hands;
Smiles on our faces and hope in heart
We both played well the stranger's part.

With the hands of time in motion,
We spoke out our souls
Of our lives and our faces,
And our words and their paces.

Of the hours that hurt
And the words that burnt;
The sweet balm of love and care
And how life could, maybe, be a little fair.

He asked, at last, if my words were taken,
And I thought back to the boy
With whom my words belonged--
*I've given up my words far too long...
 May 2015
Emma Pickwick
He said, "Tell them you love them"
But I don't know how,
The words never follow through,
Just always foaming at the mouth.
Like a dog in the heat,
But it's me in his sweater,
Give me one last change to try to get it together.

He said, "Try harder" to me,
But I don't know if I can,
All the pounding in my chest and the weight in my hands,
You know it's harder to be,
Something that which takes effort and time,
Something that'll resemble the girl in the back of your mind.

I'll be a whiskey and a fire,
A burst of burning light,
I'll be the dullness in old dresses
Or your cloudy starless night.

He said, "You need to relax"
And maybe he was right,
Maybe I was holding onto words too tight,
And I could fall into his dream,
And finally breathe,
Bend my bones into the beauty I knew he wanted me to be.
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