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 Mar 2015
Leo-chan
The child kept pulling down his sleeves to hide the bruises from the one who he called mother. He felt so much pain and so much hurt and not because his skin was blue and purple but because his heart was too.All he did was try to make her proud but she wouldn't even look him in the eyes to say hello, and what came down to it all she said she had no son she could recall. He couldn't break the constant thoughts going through his head, who would of figured he'd put a bullet there instead...
I saw a video of a mother beating her 3 year old son with a pan and punching him devastatingly hard in his chest while he was naked, and all he could do was cry and beg for mercy and forgiveness.
 Mar 2015
Musfiq us shaleheen
That frolic pronunciation of words
Moving the Tongue in Motion
The Palate has become Smooth
Excess Saliva in the mouth doesn't come
And the melody is made
Without the knowledge of the mind
That is Called the Songs of Heart,
Songs of Freedom
Outburst the Words
Of Love

Find Fascination
Grown the rhythm of life
Where Peacocks unclogging their feathers
The rain drops on the desert
Flowers bloom in hope
Dreams to fly on wings
Seeking Love
There Peacock has found his Peahen

Flowers Spread Fragrances
Music melts into melody,
In words
In Souls
Moving the River into the Sea
And where there is floated
A Fearless
Love Boat
From one end
To the another Horizon
And where we found our lost existence

@Musfiq us shaleheen
when words moving the tongue in motion
/
 Mar 2015
Poetic T
The darkness it burnt upon my
Angel wings, they wilted, with
Each moment of this forsaken
Place, my soft skin did  haemorrhage
Tainted with each breath every
Movement that I crawled upon
This acidic land corroded my light .

My white turned yellow, changed
From pure to black, I was in agony
As that which was white should
Never be turned to that. I was
Winged, not able to give motion
To the air, I was a ground dweller
As if wings were a weight a persecution
To the time of air, now dragging like
A weight a conscience upon my back.

I must have walked upon this scared
Land, I must have moved these once
Pure now tainted as dragged like sin
Behind my back.

I was before I fell, I contemplated
That which I had been and that
Which this land whispered to me
Become. The light was dulled, smothered
Like a wet blanket over a fire, Suffocated
What burnt bright, now I was being
Extinguished my dulled light.

I remembered I fell and my skin smelt
Sulphuric with a hint of light, I knew
I had bleed hatred behind me, I knew
That I had been left, abandoned to this
Isolation. My wings had regained there
Imagery, they were like crows feathers
Pure, dark, black as night.

I despised  those above, their light, ignited
Hatred, deep within where something that
Beat but know was just black, I launched
Upon the breeze to take me vengeance
Upon that purity that  glided, flowed.

I am that which will take those of higher
morals and bring them to the place of
Solitude, of loneliness, they will remember
The pain of those they had been left in the
Darkness,  For light can only last so
Long before it becomes what was before.
#light #darkness #fallen #
 Mar 2015
Eleanor Rigby
In two hours
I will be happy
For an hour.
But in three
I will get back
To being
Unhappy.


F.Z.**N
 Mar 2015
Eleanor Rigby
What kills me the most
Is that your forever
Never quite matched mine.


F.Z.**N
 Mar 2015
Arcassin B
By Arcassin Burnham

Your suspicious vital signs,
Can work with me anytime,
I will be your servant,

Telling me that I'm outta line,
Shivers running down my spine,
I want you cause your perfect,

Rainbows strikes iconic pose,
Basing off the lies you told,
Searching for majora's mask,

Might as well keep that chapter closed,
This dusty book is really old,
Did you really have to ask,

We all have red insides,
No one takes the time to look,
Beauty isn't everything,
On the outside,
But that's why your overlooked,
Better read a book.
25.
 Mar 2015
South by Southwest
I used to gather
where the bridge crossed the bay
Pausing in the ebb of
the changing tide .
I tried to capture
the moment of the ebb's decay

She came to me
with soft words of call
Left messages saying
she's not sure about it at all

The sea follows the
ways we know not
our separation was complete
we left our ancient past behind
to tread upon this land
on our own two feet

Shake the dust from your call
dress the shadows
make the sun fall
words of deliverence
wet the tongue's
parchment and thirst

The tide remains constant
demanding , relevant
with unrelenting presence
It is married to the bay
In a never ending struggle
of give and take
If these words can only be transformed into --
Arms, to give the warmest embrace.
Soft caress to touch, your wandering soul,
Trailing off, losing it's way beyond the horizon.
Healing hands, that can heal the broken hearts,
Wounded prides,
Scarred lives.
Lips, to kiss away every ounce of sadness,
Every bit of depression,
Every stubborn pain stabbing memory.
If only these words can reach your heart and feel for you..
To steal the unhappiness reflected in
your eyes,
In your every movement,
In every suicidal thoughts toying in your dying dreamland.
If only.
**It will.
For those who feels lonely, depress, hopeless,loveless...
Look up and you will find someone who longs to be a part of your life.
 Mar 2015
MKF
I never lost
Until I met you
You're my Waterloo
For Trevor
 Mar 2015
Joe Cole
You are an artist
A sculptor who crafts fine works
But you also sculpt with your mind
And beautiful imagery written in gold
Flows across the page
You are the gentle rains of spring that nurture us
The summer sun that warms us
The bounty of autumn that feeds us
In winter you are the crackling log fire that comforts us
When you leave you will leave with our love
But you will steal our souls
You are the Soulsurvivor but we are not
Soul less we will be cast upon barren ground
There to wither and die
For without a Soul we cannot survive
For Catherine, our Soul
 Feb 2015
SøułSurvivør
the legend of Bobbie Jo


The bar room was noisy
When Bobbie Jo sat down,
Her stage was like a postage stamp
Her eyes creased in a frown.

Her T shirt was faded
Her jeans full of holes
But her face had a beauty
Neither young nor old.

She slung the strap of her guitar
Behind her slender neck,
Six silver strings to strum
Six Silken Strings to pluck.

The instrument was battered
In need of some repair
But the damage was cosmetic
The music *lived
in there.

Her hands were not that beautiful
Red tipped, raw *****, and small
They looked almost masculine

The first chord was a *drawl
.

Hooked up by a chord
To an electric amp,
She tuned her instrument a bit
And put on a clamp.

When she began strumming
Live music filled the place
The cowboys kept up with their noise
But a smile crept 'cross her face.

The chords crept into plucking
A Flamenco kind of riff
Spanish at its finest

The laughter seemed to drift...

Off into the distance
And the familiar chords
Of country western "Crazy"
Hit the ***** Tonkin' boards...

"I'm crazy for tryin'
And crazy for cryin'

I'm crazy for lovin' you..."


Her voice was melodious
But it was haunting, too
Much like Joni Mitchell
But with a country blue.

Then the chords got lively
In a folksy slang

"The Night They
Drove 'Ol Dixie Down..."

The walls of that place *rang!


Baez could do no better!
The music did its thing...
Boy! That girl could play that box!
Man! That girl could SING !!!

The place was deadly silent
When she sang a blue
And it was a stompin'
When the beat picked up its tune!

It got to be midnight
The middle of the night
She had taken not one break!
The music? OUTA SIGHT !!!

It got to be 2AM
She still kept up her strum!
And the cowpokes
were tired clappin'
By the time the night was done.

When it was finally over
She picked up her case
The owner came over
A strange look on his face.

He said to her, "Young lady,
You made a helluva night...
The best sales here ever
And there was not one fight!
I want you on here permanent
Could you do that, please?
I'll give you $500 bucks a night
And I'll help you release
A country music album
You've written your own stuff...
I'll help you release it.
It's way good enough...

She said, "That's okay my friend,
I made $500 there
They piled the money in all night
It's right inside my jar...
So I'd best be goin'
The Greyhound leaves at five...
I'm headed for Nashville
I think I will survive.
Just remember me some later on
When you hear my songs
You can say I played here
And the music was real strong."

He gave her a wry smile
And he said, "You bet..."
He would sure remember
How could he forget?

She had to turn some cowboys down
When they kinda came on strong
She had a big ol' bus to catch
So she left alone...

No one ever saw Bobbie Jo again
But later on they heard
Her bus had an accident.
Killed everyone aboard.


But her legend still lives on
Where her music rang
The cowpokes swear
her ghost still plays...

*everywhere she sang.
A looong poem! Thanks for reading
it all... for a guitar playing friend...
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