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 Aug 2016
Sjr1000
All of life,
everything we shall ever know
is found within the gardens

Pulling weeds and the cover crop
*** them under or pulling them up
I never remember

The soil crumbling between my fingers
Perfect for planting
All is hope and promises

The gardens are a cycle
You've have to add excrement to begin again

The seeds are sewn, the starts transplanted
Water slightly pooled, dripping down into
the rich dark soil
A red worm winds its way down
Life begins again
Vulnerable

The  light of the sun, so warming
Cosmic love radiated our way
Life is an urge, it finds its way

The lettuce, the tomatoes, the zucchini, the artichoke, the cauliflower, the raspberries,
a blue berry or two
Medicinal herbs, oregano, cilantro, too

Fruitful youth
A flower is a plant with a hardon
The juices running right down my face
Taste
Nourishment

It feels like total summer forever
But football and school come every September

The days get shorter
The plants turn yellow and brown
Outgrow themselves
Wither and die

Purgatory lives,
along come the cover crops and weeds
In winter all just try to survive

The garden know its limits
It knows what being is all about
All of life, everything we shall ever know
Is found within the gardens.
Inspired by an essay read about the garden on the TV series, Orange is the New Black
 Aug 2016
SE Reimer
~

in the seasonal divisions of life,
is one equation most oblique;
the only ’rithmetic i know,
where sum of two in equal parts,
as one and one makes two a whole;
yet even more is this unique,
for ’tis the after-math and struggle,
the dance of life that matters most;
the after-candles, songs and marches,
the after-promises and vows,
after-gifts and floral arches,
after-dancing, cake, and toasts;
when gritty feet meet dusty road,
where those content to sit, jump out,
and those who chose the work, dig in,
here is where the after-math begins.

where spoken word and actions,
the blend of individualities,
smelting of their personalities,
when lovely couple’s faces,
no longer picture-perfect,
where smiles frozen turn to icy stares;
when agreement turns to disagreement,
and enchantment, disenchantment;
when to each the other is,
persona non grata...
a most unwelcome sum;
persona incognito...
hidden truth to everyone;
persona invisibilia...
game of hide and seek;
persona silentium...
"you can’t make me speak!"

yet all of this could just as easily be,
the sum of two,
grateful hearts in equal parts,
the beat of two in rhythm thrum,
march in time upon one drum;
where stumbling toes find eager feet;
back-handed words are gently turned, to
two-hands-to-back, a press,
on tiptoe, a softened kiss;
where hard-pressed, unkind learnings
are equal matched with kind forgivings.

e pluribus unum...
building block for nation,
works beautiful for couples, too!
’tis the only one i know,
defies the odds to work,
defines how two can grow,
turns tear-filled words to fireworks,
makes winning out of winters cold;
turns wincing into cinching,
knots that is, joined and tightly tied,
before two hearts have grown too old;
this then here, the after math,
a two-cords-tied-as-one accord,
blending melody with harmony,
production of a music-making,
ovation-worthy, heartbeat song;
a two-in-one, two-for-one,
two-as-one with rich reward;
sum of love for lifetime lasts,
perfect kind of after-math!

~

*post script.

a wedding this week came and went, but left this minder in its wake, hard beating in this mind as my body woke, begging for words in ink, pleading to be let out.  in marriage, my own is far from perfection, as am i, yet as close to heaven as i have known here on earth. do believe that i know that it cannot be just one; but takes two hearts, two wanting, two hoping, and two forgiving, to make one that lasts!
she is by far the more so in ours.
When strangers arrive be nice to them. Offer kindness. Recommend beautiful places, delicious homeland cuisine and exquisit wine and healthy beverages.
 Jul 2016
b for short
Folded between waves,
she soaked up all of the magic
the salt air had to offer—
a quiet, little old soul,
turned riotously blissful
in the presence of the great Atlantic.
I saw this with my own eyes and smiled.
This love was in our blood,
passed down from our mothers,
unspoken but shared—
an immutable joy that dripped
from the ends of our hair,
mimicked our laugher
in these deep edges of blue,
and echoed in the fizz
of the crashing surf.
I saw this with my own eyes and smiled.
Folded between waves,
something in me settled especially for her:
No matter how unclear life may become,
she, too, would find happiness
as long as she could find her way
back to this shore.
© Bitsy Sanders, July 2016

for Mackenzie Anne
 Jul 2016
SøułSurvivør
Life is so confusing
I don't know what to do
I am vexed it's so complex
My very soul is blue

I have so little time now
Don't know which way to steer
But it's agreed that there's a need
To read my poets dear!

But I have a backlog
I have just begun
I have a need so I can read
Each and every one!

I will read each person
I will make a start
I won't be dim and I won't scim
I will give my ♡

I know that I've reposted
Quite a bit in past
I can no longer do this
But this state will not last!

When I'm caught up on my reading
I will begin again
To do more than just ♡ you
For you are my friends!

Yes, I will do more than ♡ you
That gets very old
You don't just get Survivor's ♡

You also get my SOUL!


SoulSurvivor
7/27/2016
There's a lot going on with me right now. I have very little time to read. I want to read you all! So this time all I can do is read and ♡. I know I usually comment and repost on collections as well. I simply don't have time to do that right now and catch up on my backlog of reading. Thank you for understanding!
 Jul 2016
Commuter Poet
I come from nowhere
Im certain
No country defines
Who I am
I was born in a time
But not in a place
I come
From nowhere
I just
Am

Don’t say
You own this, I own that
Don’t tell me
That yours is the land
Don’t hurt
My brothers
And sisters
Just because a map says you can

For I come from nowhere
I know
I was born in a time not a place
Our mothers just want to nurture
All children
Regardless of their race

Don’t kid me that
You ‘own’ a building
Don’t fool me that you understand
That money means value
And owning it
Makes yours a wonderful clan

For I come from nowhere
I think
I was born in a time not a place
The world are my brothers and sisters
And nothing can take their place

So don’t lock the food in your cupboard
Don’t steal all the fish from the deep
Don’t siphon off oil
And triple the price
And rip off the poor and the weak

For you come from nowhere
Im sure
We drifted in ether together
We wondered what kind of life to lead
Before choosing our father and mother

So tear down the walls that divide us
And rip all the maps up and see
Just what we can do together
To make this place happy and free

For I come from nowhere
I'm certain
No country defines
Who I am
I was born in a time
But not in a place
I come
From nowhere
I just
Am
24th July 2016
 Jul 2016
Melissa S
I refuse to give negativity
and hate any more of my time
Once given the power
it can take over your life and your mind
I start my day with thanks
and end my day with gratitude
My days are a struggle no more
because I changed my attitude
The world is scary right now
that is one thing we can all admit
So I focus on me and my little bit
and simply change the way I see it
Change the way you look at things, and the things you look at change.
Dr. Wayne W. Dyer
 Jul 2016
Gwen Johnson
You
I want to ask
What reminds you of me?
But if you were to ask me back
I couldn't pick one thing
Because my mind likes to bring
Everything back to you
But then maybe my answer is
That I remind myself
Of you
 Jul 2016
Jeff Stier
O sister
when did you become
the perfect treatise
on love and
the sacred painted face?

When did your words
divide the day
from my night?

It was ninety yesterdays ago
when first your verse
startled my eyes
speaking a language
native to this ground
speaking with grace
with love
and with a defined determination
sweetened by the red clays
of your home

The soul of the prairie
holds you in its embrace
the long vista
the tornado
the tempest
all compete for your attention

And here I stand
at the back of the line
humble
one hand in my pocket
one holding an urgent postcard

It simply says

Keep this in
your hand
it is for you.
For Nagí. Sister poet and human bean.
 Jul 2016
JRF
It's Still a Beautiful World

...full of beautiful people.
Even though the news tells us otherwise.

So let's come together-
those with hearts that
radiate
love and kindness.

Let's embrace the angry and the forlorn
instead of fear them
and hate them
because we cannot, have not
walked a mile in their shoes.
Just stop.
Think.
Breathe.

Reach out.
Extend yourself in kindness and
maybe then,

maybe then we can staunch the blood
that flows from this wound
we all created.
Just one more thought on current affairs. ''Twas a rough night," as Macbeth understated!  Thanks for all the kind comments for "Colour Blind."  I wish you well, Poetry Friends:)
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