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 May 2018
Mellow waves
Trust is a golden key to one’s heart
It is so strong yet easily shattered,
It is so pure yet easily blemished,
It is as strong as the howling of the wind,
It is truly, the craving that everyone seeks.
 May 2018
jonni inferno
an' when at lasste
they reach'd
the fartheste shorre

an' placed
their booted feet
'pon her ****** soil

they turned and lookt
wi' shaded eyes
farr 'cross
the Tranquil Sea

beheld the beauty
of their mothers' grayce
a crowne of starrs
Her diadem

an' tho they long
for Her embrayce
must heed the calle
an' join tha' race

oh tha' Song of Destiny
tis tha' which burns
within our souls

Her ardent voyce
doth beckon us
to reach
the farr-flung starrs

Her siren's song
drawin' us
to touch
the fartheste shorre

beyonde the seas
beyonde the klouds
out to the starrs
we journey farr

we venture forth
to search
to know
to reach beyond
and touch
The Fartheste Shorre


p. j. upchurch
circa 1997
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https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/298731-the-fartheste-shorre/
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I drew my inspiration for this poem from pictures
of the July 20th 1969 - Apollo 11 - Lunar Landing.

I  have attempted to use "old/middle english" in an
effort to evoke the times of early explorers that sailed
the uncharted seas, discovering new lands.

So - Here's to the Explorer Adventurers throughout the ages -
and within each and everyone of us...
 May 2018
John Stevens
Ook

I bought a book about a cook
who couldn’t look because he shook.
One day he could look
because he had the book
about a crook
which made you look.
 May 2018
John Michael Biely
a
Gilded
Box
Where numbers go
in
And love comes
Out
 May 2018
Dani
If I was a witch
I’d make
lavender soup,
with milky eyes,
basil leaves,
wide pink rose petals,
crystal shards,
and a touch of lapis lazuli.

Forget toad warts
or salamander tails,
burned sage,
obsidian talismans,
stolen hairs,
rusted earth
or the eyes of newts
and tongues of dogs.

If I was a witch
I’d make
love potions,
luck potions,
and everything in between.
Take fools gold
and make it gleam
brighter than a diamond.

Forget curses.
If I was a witch
I’d take the blackened grimoires,
drown them in their
bloodied words
and keep the poor
old frogs
as friends.
God creates
The colors are beautiful
I lost the hands of God
Wearing my long blue skirt
My feelings become intense
I'm a young girl
with a round face
My eyes narrow at the corners when they smile
Smiles brought about by a girl and a boy
Passing through all his smiles
Having a smell of my childhood dresses
Similar to all paintings in my drawing book
of that river
Sharp mountain
and ugly crows
''I love you, God of jasmine flower''
No one knows the death of flowers
Just telling that flowers are beautiful forever
and time is the murderer
Wanting my mother's arms
Her ******* are beautiful
I smiled, knowing a pleasure
that will not be in my ****** relationship
The sky smells of death
Last night I dreamed that a flower was dead
I saw death  
Go out of my window
with white curtains
We are playing
Making songs and dancing
Humans didn't accept the dreams
''I love you so much, God of jasmine flower''
Big
Round
and beautiful
Innocent and depressed
His eyes, are
His hands will be for whom?!
Both his eyes flew
One day, all the birds in the sky will grow up
and will have no hands anymore
Your hands have two jasmine flowers
and I will taste them till the end of my life
His eyes are beautiful
I will see the sunset in whose eyes?!
Sewing all the floral white dresses of women, tender
Devoting my eyes to my mother
Giving my heart to my sister
''How much I love your eyes''
Eglantine flower has the most beautiful smiles
The sun is young for me
The God of jasmine flower is happy
A light has remained in my heart
with his leaving
I repeated it, endlessly
and keeping his soul in my heart
Now, he is a happy butterfly
has grown up
Fluttering, slowly
Sitting on all the flowers
It is happy and free
Children and rainbows always follow the butterflies
The death of each flower is not beautiful
''The God of jasmine flower''
Oh, beautiful flower !
Still wearing your childhood golden earrings?!
Your playmates calling you
among scorching summer grass
Do you hear the innocence in children's smiles?!
The jasmine's hair is long and dark
Butterflies
dancing
and gone...

خداوند می آفریند
رنگ ها زیبایند
دست های خدا را گم کردم
دامن بلند آبی ام را پوشیده ام
عواطف من زیاد شده است
دختر جوانی هستم
با صورتی پهن
چشمانی که وقتی می خندد
گوشه هایش نازک می شوند
خنده هایی که یک دختر و پسر می سازند
از میان تمام خنده هایش می گذرم
بوی پیراهن کودکی هایم را می دهد
شکل تمام نقاشی های دفترم را دارد
با آن رود
کوهی تیز
و کلاغ های زشت
''دوستت دارم خدای گل یاسمن''
...کسی مرگ گل ها را نمی داند
فقط می گویند برای همیشه زیبایند
و زمان قاتل است
آغوش مادرم را می خواهم
سینه های او زیباست
می خندم
لذتی که در رابطه ی جنسی ام نخواهم برد
آسمان بوی مرگ می دهد
دیشب خواب دیدم که یک گل مرده
مرگ را دیدم
که از پنجره ی اتاقم
با پرده های سفید بیرون رفت
بازی می کنیم
آهنگ می نوازیم و می رقصیم
انسان ها رؤیاها را نپذیرفتند
''من خیلی تو را دوست دارم خدای گل یاسمن''
چشم های او
درشت
گرد
و زیباست
معصوم و افسرده است
دست های او مال چه کسی خواهند بود!؟
تمام چشم هایش پرواز کردند
روزی تمام پرنده های آسمان بزرگ خواهند شد
و دیگر دست نخواهند داشت
دست هایت دو گل یاس دارد
''خدای گل یاسمن''
و من تا آخرعمر آن ها را خواهم چشید
چشم های او زیباست
غروب را در چشمان چه کسی خواهم دید!؟
تمام لباس های سفید گل دار زنان را لطیف دوخته ام
چشم هایم را به مادرم هدیه کنید
قلبم را به خواهرم بدهید
''چه قدر چشم های تو را دوست دارم''
زیباترین خنده ها را گل نسترن دارد
آفتاب
برایم تازه است
خدای گل یاسمن شاد است
با رفتنش
نوری در قلبم ماند
که مدام تکرارش کردم
و روحش را در قلبم نگه داشته ام
او الآن پروانه ای شاد است
بزرگ شده
که آرام بال می زند
روی تمام گل ها می نشیند
آزاد و شاد است
بچه ها و رنگین کمان ها همیشه به دنبال پروانه ها می گردند
مرگ هر گل زیبا نیست
''خدای گل یاسمن''
! ای گل زیبا
گوشواره های طلایی کودکی هایت را هنوز داری!؟
همبازی هایت
از میان چمن های داغ تابستان
صدایت می زنند
معصومیت خنده های کودکانه را می شنوی!؟
موهای یاسمن بلند و سیاه است
پروانه ها
رقصیدند
و رفته اند
I'm as lonely as a station at night.

The december mist and the moon
peaking high over the iron fence
dulled the low volt into weird halo.

But like bats I reap the rewards of night.

The buzz of the crickets rose in crescendo
from the undergrowths around the track
sounding as unreal as the silent platform
abruptly cropping up on nowhere land
doubtful if ever a train would notice it.

Days are dull actings dancing to strings
yielding nothing to let you know you.
I'm in full vision before the lightless mirror
opening up alone but with the many faces
the dreary day ruthlessly hid from me.


The mist was engulfing the iron railings
and when a distant engine whistled
there was no track or platform
but only the lone flyer hung on the moon
like a bat glued to the scent of night.
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