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 Sep 2016
Timothy Ward
a cold winter blast
two songbirds boldly took flight
eloquent silence
Sometimes haiku is utterly powerful and transcendent in its compactness and simplicity
 Sep 2016
phil roberts
"Don't look down" they say
But I need to see where to put my feet
Because there's only the ground beneath me

I have built no mountain of achievement
Nor scaled any great heights in life
I sure as hell never made any money
And I've had my share of strife

So I've got my feet firmly on the ground
Because there's nothing else beneath them
That doesn't mean my judgement's sound
It just means that I don't give a ****

                                                         By Phil Roberts
 Sep 2016
SøułSurvivør
",,  :  '
,  ° .. '' , °..
. ;   . ." ,, ° '',, .  - ,,
because dust motes appear
in the light
means they are also
in

darkness


SoulSurvivor
(C) 9/24/2016
an observation about
light, consciousness
and the
subconscious

°
 Sep 2016
Melissa S
Shhhh
Can't you just listen
Please for once
I know God gave you ears
I know you can hear
but it is so much *more
than that
Please just *listen

To the sound of my voice
Take in the words
that I am saying


No
Uh uhhh
Stop right there
Can't you see I am hurting
Do you not see the pain
You do not have to fix me
Sometimes you just cannot
Please just hold my hand
Hug me
*Hurt with me
Sometimes there is nothing you can do for a person except
Pray for them ~ hurt with them <3
 Sep 2016
nivek
We all are refugees
temporarily sheltered
on the road, homeless.
 Sep 2016
Dark n Beautiful
She had just finish smoking the ****,
Then she decided to write a poem about smoking the joint
Or was it before she wrote the poem, or after she smoke the ****
Was the poem triggered by the ****, or did the **** triggered a write?
Does it matter now, after she rolled the **** into written words and smoke her ideas.
  

Al Cash once wrote that
*My soul absorbs you, my mind inhales your essence, and you confirm my life.” *
She usually took an aspirin after a terrible headache
But thinking out loud now she should have taken the aspirin before the headache
Or before she smoke the ****, that lead to the write
That eventually brought about the poem, which causes a migraine
Now her body reacts to the Drunken Sailor Syndrome
So once again never swallow a spider to **** a fly: just purge.

Never write a poem while smoking the ****,
Poetry is life natural high, an untimely wave that never
Cease to amaze us.
 Sep 2016
eunsung aka Silas
words
weaving us together
strangers turned friends
unity in silence
 Sep 2016
Nigel Finn
Three words can make me feel quite grand
Or can fill me with dismay,
I really hope you understand,
I don't always feel that way.

Three words can make the difference,
Oh, I really wish you knew!
They always hold significance,
But they're not easy to do.

Three words! Three words! Stuck on repeat!
I don't know how to reply!
I want to run away, retreat,
Or curl up, cave in, and cry!

Three words I meet with every day
(I'm fairly sure you know 'em!),
I still never know what to say,
When I read; "Add a poem".
 Sep 2016
Rhet Toombs
The ending shriek of a dogs bark
As you jolt awake from this nightmare that isn't one
 Sep 2016
harlon rivers
Daybreak brushes pink clad
hovering skies
beyond back lit mountains of Cascadia

Sunrise peaks through
the dawning nimbus
a variegated rosy
glowing consonance

The passing marine endowed sky,
framed by pinecone adorned
old growth timber stand,
near and far

Red sky some mornings,
awakens heart on sleeve
without warning


a lone mourning dove calls out --
unanswered
drowning out the drone
a lonely heart's throb

Harbingers of seasons change
cast nebulous shadows
over mountain
greenery meadows

imminent reminders
-- ready or not --
what’s come and gone
a moment passed


Though hearts may shine brightly
carefree summer's lazy days,
prevailing currents portend
the ever-present
winds of change

Someday heaven's healing rain
is going to fall softly
on this restless solitude;

cleansing a weary soul,
renewed once again,

mostly whole


© H.  Rivers ... today
all rights reserved
...it's nature's way of telling you
listen to her ubiquitous psalms...

note: Cascadia --  the Pacific Northwest of North America
http://www.cascadianow.org
 Sep 2016
Mike Adam
Lives on in
The mind of scholars

Kissing life into
Fragile phrases

Transparent as
October leaves
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