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 Sep 2014
Geno Cattouse
Him si all
An know.

Him reach out
An hold.
Jah know.

Him mek da rain fall
An quench.
Him mek da snow fall
Wind blow.
Sure as calm follow storm.
Jah see an know.

You walk in sunshine my love.
My only lifeline an so
He made you so fine an so.
Sweet Jah
Wonderfull.
Him see and
Know.
You caught my eye that first day
the hand and the looks drove me wild
I tried not to look when you would smile
until the drink, the love affair...

Your hand would brush my hair away
touch my lips with a soft touch
telling me I was beautiful, lets love just this once
not being able to tell you no...

As I drank my martini, your hand touch my leg
my eyes got wide, and my heart skipped a beat
and there you were so close to my lips,
with your hands pulling me up
lets go get a room, you would say....

My new black dress felt so good,
my bond hair hung to my waist
my blue eyes shone with delight
but the room, and your look of hidden desires
and the lost of self....No, I just can't..

I want more...

Debbie Brooks 2014
 Sep 2014
chimaera
She
asked
him then for
sanctuary,
to run, hide away
from pain and death calling.
He let her in. Could he not
see, would he not know...? A stardust
path she silently draw... Never was
his thirst fulfilled, her heart unfolded.
Etheree (poetry types: shadowpoetry.com)
 Sep 2014
Joe Cole
At an early age I was trained to ****
To enjoy the moment enjoy the thrill
When the 7.62 found the mark
And ripped apart another's life
Getting high on cordite smoke
Turning the moment into another joke
Dipping fingers in the blood
That from my victim on the ground had spread
To glorify in his death
Then deprive another of his breath
With another one through his lungs
Wow killing can be so much fun
Do I care that their families weep
No they were just a bunch of creeps
And I'll **** some more if I get the chance
Then walk away without a backwards glance

BUT

No it never was like that
Because you become enmired in the crap
You **** yourself and your stomach heaves
From the stench of blood and ****
Carried on the breeze
No thrills no fun no stupid jokes
Just ****** pants and sweat and trembling limbs
No glory in the site of blood
Turning sandy ground into puddled mud
The stink of gunsmoke in your throat
It could have been me
Not the other bloke
No, its not like it's shown in the films
 Sep 2014
OliviaAutumn
My body is a canvas
And you are the artist,
Making art in the night
And that's how it started.
So paint me our future
With brushes of scarlet.
And hang it on the wall
For the days we have parted.
There are no pictures of the forgotten child
just second hand memories
of a police station handmedown
and too many mothers.

There are no echoes of my smile to be found in family albums

No book to lovingly hold the dates of firsts unwitnessed by love.

Yellowed paper bears witness to my existence, a name given, typed above that of an unknown Father and a mother too new to bear my needs.

There are no tales of first days and birthdays, no tears of joy at my arrival, nor at my loss.
Just me, a girl with no past and a stolen future, screaming at shadows while clutching at straws, hoping that someday my face will be reflected by that which I did not create.
 Sep 2014
ponny jo
thank you for reminding me that the world fell,
when skies shattered and tides swelled,
fractured soil swallowed chiming bells,
and red skies raining without quell.

at this point diamonds do define me,
in ways that hope and light beam,
shadows too, but without loathing,
and i want to thank you for reminding.

i began working tirelessly,
on foundations near the deep sea,
and built until i was free,
free from your eyes and wordings.

walls were now a bounty,
and tremors were no longer felt,
and scarring helps to tie imagery,
of what morals are and how to melt.

and one day out, around, about,
i heard an old voice say,
with cracking and maliciousness,
of how the world fell that day,

i was glad in ways for diamonds,
but wondered why you had,
taken pause and how your voice said,
of how the world fell that day.

but i looked down and back,
for a second,
and i kept walking forward,
glad in ways for diamonds,

and the reminder of how the world fell that day.
 Sep 2014
SG Holter
It's the way Petrucci's guitar paints
Itself with one long stroke onto

LaBrie's voice at the
Beginning of the solo,

And the way we both look
Up at each other with eyes that

Know more about Dream Theater
Than most, smiling in new born

Infatuation and goosebumps
Shared, that I know that I'm in

The kind of sweet, sweet trouble
That sneaks in through your

Guard without you noticing; the
Path-to-heart that has been cleared

By little things upon little things;
How a good producer uses

Barely audible elements to lift a
Song into grace and perfection.

Lunch pack made with fresh love,  
Something like soft electricity

Between our skins; relaxed islands
In a carefree ocean. Music, music,

Music. She shreds the fastest air
Guitar this side of the coast, and

I just want to stay. Dig. Hang. Hold. I
Have nothing I want to escape to,

And with the song that will be ours
As long as she's mine, and remind

Me of us forever after, I find peace
In restlessness on the floor of her

Apartment, as if it's her singing
*This distance in my voice

Isn’t leaving you a choice,
So if you’re looking for a time to

Run away... you won’t find it here,
Look another way.

You won’t find it here.  
So try another day.
 Sep 2014
Karen Newell
You sat in the stern
minding the motor.
Bib overalls and ball cap
the Captains uniform.
Your sanctuary invaded
by invitation only.
Giggling girls
playing in the tackle box.
Stink bait loaded
we focused on bobbers.
Intently waiting
for the catch of the day.
Crappie, Blue Gill, Sun Perch,
Laughter, Compliments,
Encouragement.
Our live well was full.
 Sep 2014
betterdays
surrounded by silence
only the slowblink
of the blucat eyes
in the stgyian gloom
of the overcast night
sleep eludes, sleep eludes

small smiles on the sleeping
godboys face
slack relaxed exhuastion
from the father, man mountain, hibernating bear.

single sips of chamomile
tisane....sit in silence
no gain in scrapping against
insomnia.. better to succumb
to calm evening solitude
sleep will come, sleep will
come
freeflow....little to know punctuation or format....
just the release of thoughts
on the evening tide...
 Sep 2014
Amanda In Scarlet
I have a scar
That makes it look as if my belly is smiling
like Mona Lisa, a half smile, curving up, and out.
When I stand before the mirror
I cover it with my right hand, automatically,
Pretend it isn't there.
When I try on a bikini
It has to cover the smile, securely.
When I strip for a massage,
Or change in the gym,
I turn aside from prying eyes
And hope they do not see
the ragged rip dividing me in two.
When I was five years old, I nearly died
And the scar saved my life.
So, strange that I reject
what I should embrace, with thankful joy.
Sad, that I can only see the ugly and the now.
If it did not exist, neither would I,
My scarsmile, my reminder,
Here, I shall thank you,
Here, and only here, I can reveal.
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