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 Jan 2018
Lazhar Bouazzi
On a golden bedding
Spread for you by June -
Silken, fresh tedding
Beneath a sluggish noon .
Ah! Your fragrant silhouette
In a blink of my eye!

But we are in the winter
Now,
The time to surrender
To the stories that unfold
Of the children and the old
Adding cold to cold
Around a hearth of clay

As I look through the window pane
I glimpse a scarlet tourist train
Across the scintillating snow
Coloring the leaden no-show
That shut him out from the rainbow.

Oh! Your fragrant silhouette
On a summer wheat show!


© LazharBouazzi, January 21, 2018
 Jan 2018
Traveler
Dear Liz

I don't mind
When you're weak
When my ear is what you seek
When your voice
Is softly spoke
I don't mind
Your subtle strokes
I'll be here again today
Cause you take my breath away
..........
Traveler Tim
sheds its bark an

armor piece at a time
from high on its trunk

where its heart would be
is that what creches first

rather than the soul?
(a volute of thought

from heart to head, this) --
like the healing of its bone

by the purring of the cat
or the birthing of a person

in the eye of the whale
or the movement of the heart

into the head
a balm of balsam

baal shemen
chief anointing in the

shedding of the tree
a chrism, the

extreme unction of Love


c. 2018 Roberta Compton Rainwater
 Jan 2018
Sarita Aditya Verma
Paint the Umbrella
A Riot  of Colours
The Rain can't wash Away

Throw caution to The Winds
A Little dance to the
Reverberating Beats of
Rains splash into Puddles
The Umbrella Aloft ,Swirls
Kaleidoscopic hues at Play

Green is the Colour on the Spectrum Wide
Harbinger of Peace and Tranquillity
The Monsoons The Mainstays

Paint the Umbrella
A Riot of Colours
The Rain can't wash Away
 Jan 2018
harlon rivers
There was a fog that seemed to hover thickly
over the perceived salience of his musings
  
It was as if there were a veiled mystique
that left hopeful understanding ,
                   ambiguously obscured ...

His soul's cadences fell beyond the pale ,
like a reverberant iron bell’s clamor ,
                   drowning acumen ;

albeit , unmistakabe crystal clear allusions ,
scanning inwardly, rhapsody in his mind's eye

                    Illusive accord ,
                    beclouded by seeming stigmas
                    borne of the flesh ;
                    delicately sensitive nuances ,
                    misunderstood imperfections ,
                    bespoken utterance weighed heavy upon heart ...

In the hush of pensive repose ,
flow of soul streamed forth from its retreat within ;
bequeathed as if darkness
was magnetically drawn towards light ,
purging muted understanding ...

                    Assuredly seeking all questions with verve ,
                    accepting , that all answers sought
                    are not meant to be understood

A realization of those who wish to speak yet abide unspoken ;
the unseen mark of those that wished they had been loved ,
befallen the music of a thundering heartbeat ,
understanding a circle is vulnerable ,
only makes it stronger ―

                    hence ,..
                    it had been written
                    in countless misunderstood ways ...

Knowing he resists an inner-voice to endure silently
for a fear of that which remains indelibly writ ,
tattooed on introspective walls
far removed from the afterglow of light ,
where depth of soul yearns to be freed ;

                    heart speak hushed , deft words avowed
                    in enigmatic tongues ― Vayu doth whisper

                    soul's prevailing tides ebb and flow
                    from unseen depths , permeating
                    deeply within inner realms

The spirit of soul once steeped his heart’s intone :

               "Spell words that bind together passing strangers  
                 Coalesce  thoughts to inspirit those whom often walk alone
                 Append the goodwill of poetry, aspiring to bond individual
                 hearts and minds with words of love and light.  
                 Conjure written  spells to bespeak sincerely ,
                 a faith in unabated love
"

and yet ,   he will write it again and again ,.. searching beyond words

…words grasped from emerging thoughts
                   drawn in to the light
                   searching for other adept words
                   to recite yet another way ,
                   sketch another word-scape ,
                   written with the relentless inexhaustibleness
                   of an unstoppable awakening ...  

Another winter dawn imbues a new day come to light

                   he will write it again and again ,

                                          ... finding another way to be set free ...



                                                          ­       Harlon Rivers
Thank you for reading

Stanza in italics is from :
*Spell Words that Bind Together Passing Strangers*
Furniture burns quite well should the -
need arise
A quilt will cover a whistling window
Thick socks make good mittens , a fiery -
book of Sandburg will heat my soul most dandy
and smitten
The lake shall provide fish just as -
the charcoal grill will offer a place to heat them
Snow will turn to water , mother woodland will offer -
plentiful piedmont herbs , roots and berries to -
sustain and medicate
When these material nothings are depleted-
I will forage the landscape as needed
Determined as the bobcat , frozen as the hunting heron
With cold reserve and insatiable hunger* ...
Copyright January 17 , 2018 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
The random shower teases the imagination -
with thoughts of melancholy Gods
Stardust trapped in rain drops , colliding -
with earth
Amassing , expanding , cutting a path -
through black granite , flint and pink marble
Demanding the ocean on a collision course
with high mountains , enveloping the valley -
floor with wholesale anger and destruction
Redefining the mantle of the world with sheer power .. Fear not , for it's merely a timid January shower* .. :)
Copyright January 8 , 2018 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
 Jan 2018
Star BG
She was my elusive lover
who only came out at night.
Her silken waved hair
In waves draped
on delicate skin.

Her eyes as deep as the ocean.

When we embraced horns of ships sounded agains tempest winds of our passions.
We were ships passing in night
her leading me like a lighthouse bulb.

A gift that dissapeared with the fog
but a smile never to be forgotten.
Inspired by the great branded glaciers GE who gave me words lighthouse bulb
Avian flautist perform in golden canopies , dandelion fairies ride -
springtide breezes high above a meandering , rushing , brown water symphony
The dance of the Blue darters , of the iridescent pirouetting ballet , the birth of a thousand greenwood songs , nature delivering her poetic morning alms
I lie in repose , filled and intoxicated
In burgeoning sunlight , within magnificent shadow , in the centerpiece of living , ever expanding shape and hue* ...
Copyright January 8 , 2018 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
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