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 Oct 2018
Justin S Wampler
The next time I come see you
I want to read to you.
Like you always used to read to me
before turning out the lights.
For every time I wouldn't hold your hand,
I want to hold it twice as long now.
When the blankets slide down too far
I want to put them back on you.
If your pillows fall flat
I want to fluff them for you.
When you cry
I want to be there with
a fresh tissue for each tear.
I want to quit my job
and be there next to the bed with you.
I want to ask you what I should do
when my world is falling.
I want to do everything you do,
and be just like you.
I want to laugh.
I want to hear you laugh.
I want to read to you,

forever.
I want to be as proud of myself as you are of me. I love you.
 Sep 2018
Poetic T
Walking up to mummy,
            he says look at my smile.
I wanted to cheer you up.

            I made my smile rainbows,
                               to brighten you up.
A little one wants to cheer up his mommy so he colours in his teeth, and says look a smile of rainbows for mummy to know every smile is a rainbow smiling back at you.
 Sep 2018
PrttyBrd
i.

melted ice cream afternoons
bogged down

rising from asphalt
in magical mist
that transforms
the day into
a test of endurance

even dusk offers
no solace
in frozen watermelon bliss


ii.

smoke permeates fabric
hair and every surface
with peace and grit
wafting over
the crispy
edges of predawn

begging sleep
to the most stubborn
insomniac

rotisserie style dreams
till morning


iii.

there's less death today
waiting in line
in candy store nightmares
begging silence
from the jubilant

but the sky turned up
a dream state

in that beguiling beauty
is brilliance


iv.

in shadows
the earth falls silent

rustling through
tall tales
the moon births

images in hidden corners

evening strolls
turn adventures

and every day
burns quick
to be reborn slowly


v.

the weight of hell
in short tempered bites
**** will with a proficiency
unseen outside
a viper's silent hunt

ready for war
with fists losing
responsibility

breaking triple digit
pressure


vi.

Incessant banging through walls built faster than I am strong enough to demolish, cradling lace so it won't rip on my forked tongue. There is only so much care left to handle perception just trying to breathe through a smile.
91218
190w
 Sep 2018
Poetic T
Synthetic thoughts,
compromised  by organic
                            reflections.

synaptic pathways
                           worn down
by rudimentary contemplations.

"What am I"

Am I who I see
                        or
am I just memoires
              looking back..
 Aug 2018
Poetic T
"I'm a father, and I don't do a few things.

A father doesn't babysit his kids,
            what are you part time?
Wake up, if your thinking this,
your not father material
                    your a ***** bank for hire.

I don't get drunk in-front of my kids,
                     you slurring your words.
Anger making you lash out.
           That's a problem,  you see
       love is kindness, not anger and grief.

"I'm a father and I do a few things right.

A father reads to his kids, imagination
            ignited in little minds.
    
"ROAR" went the dino baby as
    it showed mummy and daddy
its new voice that it found.
   Trees trembled and the earth
             did jump for this little dino
showed off the voice
                          "ROAR" it never knew it had.


A father looks after them when there sick.
                           Team mummy and daddy.

Snooty Maggie,
                    that's mummies section.
Green little monsters popping out of noses,
slim trails on white tissues, so gross.
                           Buggers make daddy heave.

Pukky Pedro,
now this is daddies area.
         scrap the chunks,  
         clean the sheets, give them a shower.
Now get the bucket, that rests next to the
                                                 little ones bed.
Sleep my baby, mummy and daddy are close.

A father is meant to show love,
                                    don't be a part timer.
Were meant to be proud of what we have or had
with the love of our life.
                        We created someone,
who will bring a smile to eithers face just with a look.
 Aug 2018
lX0st
Nightfall,
Morning breaks
Our hands fit
In the same place
On that one side of the bed
Where cool sheets unwrinkled
Leave a lingering presence
That smells of vanilla
And torment

Your twilight, my dawn
So alike, so far
We cling to our sheets
Awash in old memories
My cheeks toward the sun
Your moon shining on what used to be
What could never be
 Aug 2018
lX0st
Sweet, sweet boy
You must know love
To be so good
But goodness rests in your hands 
And its nemesis 
In your eyes
Pleading to me
To get down on my knees
And beg for your time
To kiss each finger
As it grazes mine
Trailing down my neck
Shivers down my spine
Pour your soul through my lips
Wring your saccharine 
From my hair
With your fist
Sweet, sweet boy
“..now my life is sweet like cinnamon..”
 Jul 2018
lX0st
Behind my eyelids
Dance glimmering gold and green
They twist and sway
Drifting along
Near and away, near and away
Arms entwined
Light as air, fluid as water
They stretch and twirl
Kissing the edges
Of my mind
No reason to tire
No concept of time
The music in their movement
Elusive, effervescent ecstasy
Oh, how I dream
 Jul 2018
lX0st
He saves all the grape jolly ranchers for me
He hates everything grape
But he’d swear he loves me
Until he’s purple in the face
And even on my worst days
When my skin is flushed
Rouge with rage
He reminds me that the color of love
Is always present on my tongue
And can be any shade
 Jul 2018
lX0st
Forgive me; the wine
It melts into my veins
Sends notes of cherries
And chagrin
To my fingers and toes
And don’t get me started
On this whirling head of mine
It seems to be drowning
In something sweet
Something red
But I swear I’m fine
I swear.
 Jul 2018
lX0st
What ifs
Truths without proof
Lies without conviction
Seemingly sensical thoughts
Wandering down a senseless trail
Where does this road lead?
I wander. I wonder.
 Jul 2018
Francie Lynch
I see you're getting old, sitting there,
With youthful eyes, but graying hair;
But I recall the splash of tresses
Blending with the golden sands.
The time shows in your hands;
You don't hide the blemishes
That youthful pride concerned you with;
The thin lines of loosening skin
Are not what keep you in.
But I recall your winter porcelain,
And summer lines of worship;
Cherokee cheeks and Burmese neck,
Sun-dappled tops and blue jean dress,
The tennis smash and victory dance,
The on and off of our romance.
And in your memory, locked away,
You dance and sing and nurse your babies,
As if it were today.
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