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 Jun 2016
Musfiq us shaleheen
.....
The Evening Came with the Clouds
On the New Trot leaves,
Monsoon’s traditional tune
Bats come and gather on the branches
Very young  Night,
On the other side of the  window
Fluttering of wings, brawl
In the dark,
On the wet ground,
Continuous dropout of Trot Flowers,
Rain mingled with bathed in
Opened the window at dawn
The air smelled of Wet Tanned Trots
....
@Musfiq us shaleheen
Smell of Wet Tanned Trots(মজা কদমের গন্ধ)
 Jun 2016
Michelle Garcia
Write it all down. The way you feel when you wake up on a rainy Saturday morning, the howling thunder of a summer storm, how your heart races like hurricane winds at the simple thought of tomorrow. Write about your best friend's laugh at three in the morning and how blissful it is to have found a hand that squeezes yours back. Write when you feel as if your soul is perched at the very top of a mountain, and when it sinks to the deepest part of your mind's treacherous oceans. Write when your heart is dancing like a ballerina spinning in a white tutu. Write when it is still. Quiet. Lost. Write when you've fallen in love, when you've lost at a cruel game, when you fall asleep wanting to erase every memory you've ever experienced, like the songs you cried to when you were thirteen and swore you were falling apart. Write it all down, the bright colors that melt into fond afternoons, the bittersweet tastes, the textures that scar, the aches and pains. Write when words can no longer express what exists inside of you. Do it anyway. That is what love is.
 Jun 2016
Maw Maw Sez
I find myself wondering
about young men today
why don't they open doors
for their women?
What happened to chivalry?
Please don't start screaming
about women "burning their bras"
because there's more to it than that
What happened to the generation
of fathers that taught their sons
about respecting ladies
and protecting them?
now it seems most of the
younger male generation
use girls for ****** gratification
and personal idolization
I have granddaughters
they have been taught well
they will not degrade themselves
for some pimple faced ****
with a bad attitude
come on down to Maw Maws house
I'll give a lesson or two about manners
yup me, my sweet tea and my trusty 347
bring it on *******
this old lady ain't no frump
 Jun 2016
Jeff Stier
Seeing the volcano from below
just another mountain
but this mountain
speaks of the earth disgorging
its molten guts
of lightning arcing
in ten zillion volt flashes
of God's terrifying grace
of geologic upheaval
that happened before anyone knew
anything about God
that happened before anyone knew anything

We were kids on a
long weekend
decrepit jeep pickup
camper shell over the bed
we stopped for an old Indian woman
and her son
hitchhiking
I remember the strange musky smell
of her
sitting by me
on the truck's bench seat
like food I'd never eaten
or a hand-me-down blanket
from the last century

We camped at Green Lake
and green it was
set out the next day
fully unprepared for our climb

But our young limbs
carried us to a precarious summit
the South Sister
nothing but sky all around
and dreams
distant peaks
the sleeping volcanoes
of the Cascade Range
stretching into the vastness
of north and south
Such peace

And here
now
I drown in
a deep web of tangled memories

Vistas I once surveyed
live and breathe in my mind
people I once knew
still whisper in my ear
though they are long dead

How do they live on?
Who tends these grass-grown graves?
Who speaks for these dead?

And where do these memories go
when we die?
 Jun 2016
David Ehrgott
My mother didn't have a television
nobody did
because their weren't any
until someone had a vision

to bring radio to life

radio singers and soap opera players
circus acts
and vaudeville comedians

all came together in one box

After that there was only one
thing left to do
and that was

go to the moon
 Jun 2016
Grace
I’ve got an ache that comes and goes,
an ache right on the brain.
Not a headache, a brainache,
actually inside my brain.
Sometimes, it makes it hard to think,
or do or talk and other times,
I seem to lose control of my face
and have to stop and think:
Did I smile right?
Then I have to test it,
shifting my mouth into something
that is possibly called a smile.
I try not to look in the mirror when I do it.
It’s hard you see, the mirror.
Can you be allergic to mirrors?
I come out in a rash when I see one,
and I can’t help but scratch it
and then it spreads.
It’s almost like going into shock
and I can’t help it, but I want to take
a knife to my face and slice it
into easy peeling strips.
I’ve tried painkillers and hayfever tablets
but they don’t seem to do the trick.
Did I forget to mention this burning inside me?
Actually inside, not my organs, but the cavity
within me. Sometimes, it will burn for hours,
though I’m not sure what keeps it going.
I feel rather hollow inside at other times,
and the measly kindling that makes me up
could hardly sustain a fire for long.
Oh, and then there’s a numbness in my arms
and in my legs. It gets worse when I go outside,
and I can’t quite decide if it’s really the floor
my legs are touching? Could it be something in the air?
Is there some kind of plant in season to explain it?
My eyes might be going too. I keep thinking
I’m seeing things. I’m not sure though, it’s probably
just dirt on my glasses.
But my balance and senses might be a bit off,
or maybe the batteries are going.
See, I can’t always feel the world around me like I should.
You know, just that feeling when you’re not sure
if life is real or not or if it’s just a dream or just a strange pointless
terrible fantasy someone had one day. You know.
Whatever it is, it’s doing weird things to my head.
Like I said, it’s an actual ache on the brain
and I keep catching myself calling myself the wrong name.
It’s not too much of an issue, but it’s a little confusing sometimes.
Oh, and did I mention the compulsive daydreaming
and the slowness and apathy and recurring wish to just die?
How long has this been going on for, you ask?
Let me see, I can’t remember.
A couple of weeks! No, no. Months. I think.
Maybe years. Yes, let’s say years, but I really can’t remember.
Yes, it has got worse recently.
Why didn’t I come sooner? You know how it is.
I kept thinking it would pass and I’m busy and – well,
Doctor, whenever I thought of coming I couldn’t help but ask myself:
Am I sad enough yet?
And the answer was no and is still no.
I want to be sadder.
You think you know what I’ve got? What? No blood tests,
no ***** samples, no examination? Not even –
Oh, you’re writing out a prescription.
Thank you Doctor, but it says here:
Smile more, worry less and enjoy yourself.
The prescription says to find the person I used to be,
and to avoid stress? Doctor, I don’t mean to doubt you, but –
Oh, okay, okay, I’ll give it a try. (But…)
Ah, and Doctor? One last thing. My kidney infection is back again.
Anti-biotics? Yes, those are the ones I had last time.
I’m sure they’ll do fine.
The doctor in this is no literal doctor, just wanted to make that clear. I wasn't sure if I wanted to share this and I might take it down again as it might be too personal. We shall see.
Spring's new leaves of brightest green,
shimmer like emeralds in the breeze.
The sky is a brilliant blue,
the backdrop for green trees
Sprouting new.
In the distance I hear a woodpecker
knock, knock, knock.
Upon the wood of the tree top.
From the old birdhouse,
baby birds fledge,
ready to leave home
their wings they spread.
The scent of freshly mown grass
and many blossoms
is in the air.
How I love to sit on my porch
and behold Spring's wonders.
Oh, such a gift is the glory of nature!
 May 2016
echo
In your rhythmic ocean of warmth
You tug sweetly at the thousand threads
Of red and ochre, sunset blushes
A deep song through shallow veins
Tuning your fragile compass
By a beautifully
Miniature
Heart
One day you will love

Tumbling pirouettes of quiet unawares
To the melody of your mother’s laugh
As the gentle lullabied vines
Cradle your whispered breaths
You hold a perfect thumb
A flawless white shell
To pure pink
Lips
One day you will speak

Suspended in wondrous veil
A delicate radiance of blessing
Weaving light in golden promises
A dulcet requiem for your perfect world
You sing from your beautiful sphere
Scrunched in lovely darkness,
Precious child
Your little
Eyes
Will one day see

The beauty of life.
Dedicated to the unborn.
May we know your astounding worth and be brave in its truth.
 May 2016
Clare Coffey
My music will fill your soul
I will rock you all night long
I will be your melody
I am woman I am song

I will take you by the hand
I will be your second chance
Ever moving ever changing
I am woman I am dance

I will watch you when you sleep
I will set your mind at ease
I am your serenity
I am woman I am peace

I will keep you in my heart
I will be your safest place
I am your life's blessing
I am woman I am grace

I will help you smile again
I will fix what men destroy
I am all your happiness
I am woman I am joy

I will catch and hold your heart
I am what you're dreaming of
I will stand by you a lifetime
I am woman I am love

I am steadfast I am kind
I will not let love grow cold
More precious than red rubies
I am woman I am gold

I will dry the tears you cry
I will go to any lengths
To shield you from life's fury
I am woman I am strength

I am alive with passion
I will be your heart's desire
I will light your darkness
I am woman I am fire

I will never lie to you
Whether life is rough or smooth
Because honesty is freedom
I am woman I am truth

I will be your nourishment
I will be your loving wife
I will bear you children
I am woman I am life

I will never stop believing
In you till the end of days
I will nurture your spirit
I am woman I am faith

I will never let you down
I will celebrate your story
Lift you up on wings of hope
I am woman I am glory

I will love you as you are
I will embrace your flaws
In this and every lifetime
I am woman I am yours
A celebration of womanhood and all that we are
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