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 Jul 2015
SG Holter
I believe that every tree; every swallow;
Every breath of clean air that I draw

Accepts the love I feel towards it,
And responds in my everyday life,

The way any "god" would. 
Thank you for your love. This is for you.

That smile from a stranger; that money
I found, that favourite song of mine on

The radio, was a hug from the trees
(**** human-huggers) of my

Home farm dirt road
Alley, where I walked today

Asking myself how at home a man
Can feel, kissing it all with my eyes.

My everyday life...
That insignificant, poor place

Where my every amazing treasure lies
Unhidden.
 Jul 2015
Sarah
You're rocking
the boat
and the white,
foaming rapids
beat
against the
stones

you're creating waves in me

and I know
that all rivers
search for the
fullness of the
sea
the silence of the
sea
the deep, surplus of
mystery that, I tell you,
is the
sea
&
I know they run
with ceaseless
hurry

but in moments,
when they're
still
and they're just about to
fall
Know that I am falling with you and you're
rocking,
rocking me

until above the rocks
above the danger of
metallic tides,
above the harsh
chemical dreams
of reality
that
polluted our
beaten minds

you and I will see the sky
open up
dusk open up
the world
open up and
we will find the
quiet of the sea
 Jul 2015
Sjr1000
I
remembered you,
you
remembered
me,
I believed in you,
You believed in me,
We were both sea creatures
traveling
uncommon seas.

We had taken to that
unconscious ocean
to see in the sea,
What we could see.

It's been a strange journey
of that there is no doubt.

Where everyone walks with
their insides in,
We travel these seas
with our
insides out,
We don't know any other
way to be
when you're swimming through
these
uncommon seas.

It's often a desert
out there,
But inside here
all kinds of musty
characters
drudged up from
anxious memory
inhabitants of this sea -
Sponge Bob Square Pants
has
nothing on you or me,
We are all travelers
in this uncommon sea.

Our bathing suits left far behind,
the temperature sometimes
too hot
too cold
depending on our state of mind,
There's strife
confrontation
character assination
often
uncommon seas
are far from placid.

The joy of traveling
though
you and me,
Sea creatures
feeling
the longing,
Finally belonging,
Where somewhere
and
sometimes
out of the blue,
A Beluga whale
speaks
your
name
so
perfectly
and
swims alongside
you and me
in
uncommon seas.
The symbol for the unconscious in dreams has been known to be the ocean.
 Jul 2015
Siddharth Penmetcha
Have you ever noticed the coloured dust on a butterfly's wings
Or are you too busy running after money and things
Have you heard the crunch of fall leaves under your boot
Or are you too rich to be going anywhere on foot
If you have lived on earth for any time at all
and yet have no time to observe the magic of the world
Wake up, wake up, and fall in love again
the beauty of our planet is a finite thing

Have you ever felt the spark in a lover's touch
or is your time too precious for love and such
Have you ever felt pampered in nature's lap
or do you have every luxury pouring out of a tap
Is your idea of comfort a day in the spa
Or have you ever seen the magic in a little girl's laugh
Do you feel sheltered under a concrete roof
or have you ever fallen asleep in that magical tree shade?

Wake up, wake up dear friend, and see the world anew
Look at yourself again in the fresh morning dew
Open your mind to the wonders of our world
and let's make our Earth a paradise once again.
Save the trees, save our planet.
 Jul 2015
beth fwoah dream
the sea murmurs of moonstones
and loneliness, every breath
the drowning dark,
every leaf of its emerald
tree, a whisper, a cry of
sorrow, a silver dream.
 Jul 2015
poetessa diabolica
Sun flickered 'pon your eyes
    scintillating as the seas,
dappled with the chemistry
   of a thousand swooning moons
 Jul 2015
poetessa diabolica
Wouldn't it be lovely to write
     the way Monet
         painted masterpieces,
or Beethoven composed
       simpatico symphonies,
graciously scripting sentiments as
      utterly stunning as Neruda's
             elixirs of profound poetry ~

I'd sell my soul for an eternity of
      infinite breaths midst
                   such indubitable creations
 Jul 2015
Sjr1000
Rain
always
falls
on
Sorrowful
days,
Nature's
built
that
way.
 Jul 2015
Poetic T
"Where are they, I only need one,

The crystalized woods were a sight to be seen
During the moonlight
Refracted of the shaded leafs, and a
thousand night rainbows bounced,
Leapt from each. Like light sewn into each branch it was
A sight to behold.

"Where are they, I can't be late the moon still shines,

This was the only time to catch one, to bestow
My need, but they were as fragile as
Fall's pilgrimage
When the woods were a dangerous place.
But worth to others the time, as the leafs passed their
Moment and fell shattering into shards upon the floor
To capture the essence that spilled upon the bladed grass
That where the splinters of leaves now fallen.
Not rigid and sharp as before but now descended
They were like silk upon the floor.

"I see you,
"At last so many falls I have waited,
"Where is my net,*

I delicately wonder, footsteps gently hide my approach,
It flies with trials of evanescent light,
Hypnotic in its short trails,
But when so many flutter before my eyes
Pictures emerge as if knowing my minds thoughts.

"It cant be they show me her,
"She is cold, so cold,
"I only need one,
"I call out regrettably,

Drop what was meant for one,
They scatter into the chandler of leaves
But there one stays I approach.

I talk softly to it out of reach.

"She entered during the falling,
"She never knew of the dangers of what descended,
"But upon skin she did graze,
"Her skin now translucent,
"The forest calls for here,
"Now the crystal makes her blood cold,

I look in silence, as it trails upon fresh breezes,
Then a few approach a crystal glistens behind each,
One lands upon my soft palm.

I feel its light penetrate warmth upon my appendages,
As I was filled with a warmth.
It turns as if to usher me too grasp upon its light,
I gently turn, as if it were paper the crystal fly
Becomes like ash tears then with trials following
It's lost fading, waning into the wind,

"I never knew,
"An existence any life lost,
"Even for a noble cause,
"I will remember this moment in word,

I ran through the forest of crystalized light,
My heart pounding against my ribs
As if to tell me to go faster,
I reach the home of a love missed.
  
"Darling I am home,

I call out in urgency.

"Is she still with us,
"Were my troubles in vain,

"No she waits with treads of breath left,
"The forest calls here stronger now,

I glance off the walls, steps like water splash
Upon each footstep, I reach the door

"She is their,
"She is nearly lost,
"She is my love,

I put the essence of what lived, but now in the winds.
Lips caress its warmth and it falls like a stone
In a well, I wait hesitantly on my breath,
I speak,

"Please life given restore what is nearly lost,
Please,
Please,
Ple.....

As what was translucent, pigment
Became once more. Where breath was a trail of light
Like a cold mornings breath,
Now fading into night.
She had come back to me,
I told her the moments that had secured her life,
And a single tear fell,
But not a normal one birthed from regret,
As it danced on the floor.

"What is this that descended a single tears shell,
"It is a crystal tear egg,

We walked in the day time days had pasted,
Taking this tear egg pulsing since once fell.

"Here my love where life gave you a chance of breath,

In to the flowing crystal cloth grass it was set,
As it wrapped, entangled upon it,
Then a light shone for a moment.
A tiny light floated up, and new life was birthed,
New light now graced this forest of crystal.

"Life had given us life,
"Now essence was returned,

We walked away, glancing back once,
As a shimmer of trails took in that lonely light.

**This is a story of what unfolded, what was marked
In ink to be remembered as a moment where even
The smallest gesture, can mean so much.
 Jul 2015
William A Poppen
I returned home

on Palm Sunday

to find knockout roses

behind my brick mailbox

parading their first blossoms of spring.

I found candytuft

faded to green,

safeguarding scattered sprinkles of white

for me to view one more day.

Fallen pink petals from dogwood trees

fluttered through a whimsical ballet

to entertain me on a ballroom floor

of Kentucky bluegrass.

Dogwoods, azalea, and periwinkle are different.
Something happened 
while I was away,
while I snapped photographs

of starfish captured by the sand

when evening tide

quickly rolled out to sea.


Blossoms opened

as other petals
faded and fell.

Fresh blossoms flowered

and youthful buds now greet the sun.
Did you care that I was gone

in the midst of your glory

to savor other beauties
different joys --
did you even miss me?
. . .  upon returning from spring vacation to the beach
at earth's smell on the first rain
dust worn wind pause to rest
break slumber the frog again
river show sign of zest.

pride swell the slim creek
pick up steam to race to sea
shore be soon muddy thick
lives be born merrily.

drop the sky darkly low
ripe's time to inject blood
break the bund overflow
awash bank in torrent flood.

might laden is one small drop
hope and not in nervous breast
may it make or break the crop
when planting dream of sweet harvest.
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