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When I asked him how old was he
Giving a mischievous wink
Said won’t tell you straightly
But in a riddle to think!

If you add up the digits of that year
Multiply it by three
You would be almost there
But not there exactly!

Three more to it you’ve to add
And that’s my age no doubt
You would make me really glad
If can figure that out!

The two digits that make my age
Have a difference of one
You’ve enough clues to the maze
To work out my age with fun!

The digits added is short of ten
But from one too far
Would you now take the pain
To make my age clear?
Life would be boring were it not so difficult.
 Mar 2015
ShamusDeyo
The Blue Nile is a Local Club
It Hosts the Poets Groove,
A Late Night spoken Poet event
That is the culture of the Smooth.

Desdamona The queen of the Poetry Scene
Hosted a Cool MC there for Years
Poets, Hip Hoppers and Rappers
All Gathered here bringing there words

Hip hop, Rappers, and Poets Hang
For that Late Night Poets Reading
The House band lays down your Music
Background as you perform the Speaking

The band can do from Jazz to Rap
They latch on to the feel and beat
Your doing your Reading replete
With the musical blendings complete

On the Stage with your Words
For an audience that heard
It gives you an incredible feeling
the Applause makes it all worth Dealing

I've seen Street Rappers Lay it down
Hip Hoppers with Singer Backgrounds
Girls with Love Poems, Feeling Alone
For a Poet its the best show around


All the Work here is licensed under the Name
®SilverSilkenTongue and the © Property of J.Flack
"Poets Groove @ Blue Nile Bar and Resturant in  Minneapolis"
Its near the University of Minnesota in the West Bank Area
Speak only when it improves silence.
 Mar 2015
HendrixG
She hides behind her eyes
withered and tampered
tempered i am, she needs
to be pampered, help i give
but she won't receive, see
i want to help her, so she
doesn't have to grieve ....
 Mar 2015
SøułSurvivør
---

in
the
crystal
water bubbles
reflecting there are
golden koi

in
the
mossy
depth of feathers
ancient moonlight
is the buoy

around the
blue-grey stone's
alignment
sand is raked
in perfect poise

every
leaf
has its
assignment
crickets make
a creaking noise

---

there
within the
island garden
small and jewel-like
in the grove

amidst
kimono and the obi
there's a peace
the Nippon know

muted colors
placid faces
the paper lanterns
sway and glow

the lords and ladies
sit for hours
where
the
lotus
flowers
grow
 Mar 2015
Suzy Hazelwood
Ideas are like tall trees
they begin microscopic
small beams of humble enlightenment
of what they could become
until a mighty body emerges
and boughs like warrior arms reach
draping and lush
inviting suggestion

I am surrounded
by many eager minds
towering above
my own meagre imagination
kings and queens
of profound thought
how they stretch to find me
so my inner eyes
may witness restoration

Ideas are like tall trees
where even darkness
fails to demolish
http://darcyellington.tumblr.com/post/114089663160/ideas-are-like-tall-trees-they-begin-microscopic
The emotions that were created to please have taken a plunge into the misinformed vision, you have become drained as your actions have placed a negative perception on who you are and what you show, displacing the strategy of your intentions on the light somehow became dark after your selfish temptation started taking control, now the abandonment of love crushes the very dream you had wished for.

Within the time of this creation of false reality you have become blind to what is true, now all you can do is focus on the path in which you have traveled, with this hellish outcome in the open I have come crawling on my knees begging myself for an explanation of why I embraced the fool within, I have taken in the pain, yes the feeling is of being lost inside.

No one to turn to

No one to run to

No one to hold on to when times of penetrating caress form within you.

I despise these decisions.

The one of destruction took away from you, the one thing that would keep you wrapped up inside the arms of security.

Change has to come, indefinitely, this decision will overrule the wrong.

The torture makes no sense.

I lower my head in disbelief.

Written By: Christopher M. Schultz
 Mar 2015
S R Mats
You flow kinetic
Like a quiet rain - Motion
Leaf in pond water
Kinetic motion, water.
 Mar 2015
Whiskurz
Who shall lament at my demise
When this world below I leave?
Who bears proof with blood-shot eyes?
Will one among you grieve?

Who will stand when I cannot
To trumpet deeds I've done?
Am I the one that time forgot
The name that people shun?

Who will walk me to my grave
And mark the place I lay?
Will one step forth, he who's brave
One strong enough to pray?

The seeds I've sown have fell in vain
For the darkness steals the light
They'll simply say, "He was insane"
Because of things I write

If not one tear shall fall for me
The world will one day know
I need not your sympathy
For I am Edgar Allen Poe
 Mar 2015
Alan Black
When they refuse to grab the rope
you've thrown down to them,
the only other way to help them out of the pit
is to climb down into it with them,
and let them climb out on your shoulders.
The question then becomes,
when they make it out
will they toss a rope in after you?
And if they do, will you grab it?
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