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 Jul 2021
seethroughme
ember waits
on the ice cold ground
no living flame
to bring light and sound

ember waits
for the dawn wind to come
to feed breath and tinder
so she may leap and run
 Apr 2020
ryn
I swim amongst the many.

Churned amidst the chaos.

Blended in the crowd of Serifs,
Calibris and New Romans.
Strong-armed by the bold.
Submerged beneath the underlined.

But I will stand out...

If only you’d
keep me italicised.
 Feb 2018
Star BG
A Poet ******
I am gathering words
into my vat of mind.

Fingers use diving board of keyboard
to swim, as my addiction
to write increases
below moon
and sun lit sky.

I am a poet ****** getting my fix
from a deep breath where words surface
to satisfy my cravings.

Gentle, silly, emotional
and fire y words  
mount moving through vessels of heart
to fingers.

A poet ****** I am.
expanding with visions in a journey
where needs to write outweigh
needs to eat, or work.

There is no cure
for my addiction.
Only a desire to have my habit soothed
soothed by a magazine
willing to print my work
or readers willing to past the time.
Inspired by Nat Lipstadt  THANKS
 May 2017
Poetic T
My words are vocalizations of what is
cognitive reverberation upon my thoughts.
They are vapours of what was unintelligible
upon the surface, but sank to deeper reflections.

When they spilt on the white from inexistence
to my voice in simplistic vocalization of verse.
Then what collected in rendition collected forth.

Listen to my voice, now you are reading these
last vocal mentions not in yours but the perceiving
of what my voice resonates between. From thought
to paper welcome to my words in my echo of my voice.
 Feb 2017
Poetic T
All he wanted was a sunny day but those
clouds would just not go away.
He asked them politely;

"Excuse me sirs and madams  please would
you move away just for this one day,


You may ask the difference of clouds?
the madam clouds are purely white they
some times rain a little upon my head.

Where the sirs are the moody grey clouds,
I asked them to leave and now I'm soaked from
my tiny toes below to every part of my head.

"I beg your pardon, why did you only rain on
this one spot, only soaking me and no one else?


So I thought of a plan and got my mummy's
fan pointing it towards the sky, I turned it on
I thought it would take a while.
                                                      
   ­                                                     "A while later,

I looked up to find more clouds then there was
before? was it because I only used Number one?
so I turned up to the highest Number 3.
                                                        
     ­                                                        "A while later,

A look of confusion! as there seemed to be no
movement, but again more than before.
"Mummy I think your fan works in reverse,

So a little man thought, to his toy box he went.
Mummy I'll just be in the back garden, the wind
was blowing blustery, he smiled, its was just right.

Pointing his trusty bow upwards, thinking that
if he could pop one after another, they would
whoosh away and he would get his sunny day.

Away it flew, upward and onwards, so high
like a little bird flying then it fell faster than a
leaky balloon "Bonk, it went as it hit the floor.

This little man with frustration on his face,
thinking thoughts of what went wrong?
"I know I need to get higher up, clouds are high you know,

How many arrows would I need for a sunny day,
he looked in his arrow pack.
"One,
           "Two,
                    "Three..

That was enough he thought, they were quite heavy
to take up that rather big hill. Off he went, bow and
arrows and his idea of a sunny day not far away.

Out of breath but at the top of the world or so
it felt. "I wonder if I can touch the clouds?
His hand reaching up standing on his tip toes.

"I could pull them away, or put them in my bag for another day,
But alas he was just out of reach, his fingers couldn't
stretch that far, even on his little tippy toes.

So his arrows in hand, there little suction cups pointing
towards the sky. The first arrow off it flew quite far but landed
so way down the hill. "Not high enough, a tear in his eye.

Then Number two, Number Three shot off higher than
the ones he let go of before. But none could reach those
clouds up high, and he cradled his hand and began to cry.

Now the wind hears everything, voices carry on the wind
you know. It heard this little boys tears and couldn't let
them fall like the clouds anymore.

So it whispered to each one a favour it asked,

"Clouds of white, clouds of grey, could you please
wonder to another place for an hour or day?


"Just let this little child have his sunny day, no tears
should fall like the clouds hanging up today,


With that a gentle breeze picked up, and one by one the
clouds did wander off. One was stubborn grey, but with
a gentle nudge he did move slowly off and away.

A gust of wind kissed the boys face. Eyes wiped he looked up,
not a cloud in the sky, nope not one.Smiling he ran collecting
his bow & arrows as he ran down.

"Mummy, Mummy, the clouds have wondered off
the fan didn't work? my arrows couldn't go high enough.
But the breeze kissed them all away.


And so a little boy and his mummy went outside,
playing games in the sun, till the sun began to yawn  
on the horizon telling mummy it was time nearly for bed.

So a little man was tucked up in bed, he thanked the
wind, "Thank you, and thanked the clouds "Thank you,
For he got to play with his mummy outside on a sunny day.
 Nov 2015
Flaws
Bathing in sunlights golden glow
My chest is hollow
Breaths sinking in duranged seas of self pity
Black holes reflecting no emotion in my skull
That twinkle in my eyes been lost
I took it from myself
I break it every day
Conscience gone
What have I become
I'll never forget this day
The day I lost my humanity
The day I knew I wasn't supposed to be here
Burry me in my mistakes
In my misguided intentions
In tears shed for my name
Drown me with them
Pouring this sickness down my throat
Fill this empty vessel with it
In hopes that I don't reject it
In hopes that I can one day
Know the warmth I missed out on
Bathing in sun lights golden glow
Oblivious to my surroundings
To my peers
Restore me
Or let me lay here until night falls
And I can rest helpless
In soft decay
 Nov 2015
topacio
my fingers have become bored with
the quicksand of routine
they prefer to dance erotically over my typewriter
frolicking like naked ballerinas
over an ancient stage
spilling their secret thoughts
onto blank page,
after their day job
threaded together
over my lap,
or bending over to
reveal the contents
of my burlap sack

they have taken instead
to jumping over cracks
in the nothing of night
stifling the sound of silence
with assortments of clicks and clacks
punching in the perfect pitch of keys
to leave Beethoven blind
from this symphony of notes combined

and just like that at last
they have unfolded some rhyme
unachievable with ink and pencil,
without the stencil of time
dictating to work inside the lines
 Oct 2015
Stevie Ray
It is a curse this eye, my knowledge inside
resides in my mind inside a web of reality, perceived
I bleed to die a sigh what do I see?  are you relieved? a lie?
Pleased to meet  I courteously smile and greet
your handshake's weak so I straighten my back to hide the fact
the lion's fed, show no sign of attack
I step back and chat like an anxious cat
smile to show you where the fangs are kept
You relax, a trap? I check your stance is bad
So it's time to strike with might to prove you
that I might just see right through you.
 Oct 2015
C E Ford
I wanted to be a poet,
so I creased myself into
a bright blue envelope,
addressed to the moon,
and asked the Old Man
His thoughts about how vast
mountain ranges are contained only
by the bones of his ribs.

And He sat quiet, opening His crusted,
ancient mouth only to ask
"Do you love him?"

I stared, doe-eyed and small,
as the stars dimmed their chatter.
My cheeks lit up like comet tails,
but He nodded His head,
shutting the half moons of His eyes,
not asking questions, or rhymes,
or reasons.

"Then why do you stare up
at the stars at night
when the brightest one
lies fast asleep in your bed?"
 Oct 2015
Stevie Ray
All these words...
All these thoughts...
All these feelings...
They are born in my heart...
And a lot of them live and die in my heart...
Unjustified, silenced and oppressed.
Waves and waves of rebellions course through me
Fighting The Tyrant, Their Captor...
My heart is a prison, a seperate world
from yours and mine.
Where the silenced dead live on as Ghosts.
Ghosts that haunt their dictator
their wails of agony resounding inside my mind
at night. At day feelings of deafening defeat.
Nightmares of hellish places and
being chased and murdered, I die.
But both are feeling watched, they know it
yet continue to fight. Because fighting is all they do.
Their coldness has left my heart so numb.
Embedded in ice is you.
 Sep 2015
Stevie Ray
Hate inciting, fate deciding that I should break this silence.
Your claims beguiling, creating violence that negates uniting.
But that wave subsiding,
a flame's igniting that will change the tiding.
Remain in hiding,
I will break the chains of all this rage and violence.
Rearrange your sacred writings,
transcribing silence with striking rhyming. Shine so blinding it would redefine your findings
This. is writing.
I deny dividing! Mankind defiling and I aspire climbing higher,
I desire
I am fire
Firing wires
that defy dividence
Rise in silence
Uninvited fighting
by simply uniting
to clear the sky
of our tyrant Lightning.
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