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 May 2016
Just Melz
As raindrops slowly trickle down the window
              and expose a reflection of what
                   I used to know
   An image of the past that tends to haunt me pops out so clearly
                against the scenery
    And I can't complain about the hatred and pain
           brought on by the memory
              Cause
      the truth is I broke promises
          and I can't say I'm undeserving of the punishment
        As those raindrops turn to tears
   I realize all my fears
       must have been
          **heaven sent
 May 2016
South by Southwest
You always rebelled
at the thought of obligation

Obliviously you would rather opt out
than be displayed
as a duty done in insignificance

A sailboat may be insignificant
. . . a tiny speck upon the ocean
But it sits high above the crests
 May 2016
Valsa George
When I look into the mirror
And stare at my own reflection
I see a stranger sneering at me
I see the patch of dark around my eyes
I see my hair going grey
I see the blotchy skin and wrinkles on my face
It all makes me think
How rapid is the flight of youth

Once I was a bubbly girl
Full of charm with dreamy eyes
The golden vistas cheered my heart
In my dreams I scaled to touch the skies
Love vibrated every nerve
But now a sad change has come over
It all makes me think
How rapid is the flight of time

Once I thought how bright and sweet was life
Agile were my movements, could walk miles
Fatigue I never knew, supple limbs never ached
Life was a roller coaster ride
Today when I look at the young
With wind in their skirts and sunbeams in their eyes
I see the stark change that years have brought
And wonder how rapid the onset of old age is

Though my beauty has burnt away
And my bones have a brittle grate
Still I would like to hold on stubbornly
Looking at each day for what next day brings
As I still have a hopeful heart
And wish to embrace life as it comes
To make it a sweet labor of love
So I ‘rage, rage against the dying of light’!
Swish.
Scrape.
Scratch.
We silently create.
Together...
Yet apart.
We are artists.
We speak the language of the heart.
Brush, paint, canvas.
Paper coated in black clay, wire tools, scratched surface.
We create.
Together...
Yet apart.
We are artists.
Paper, pen, fingers tapping on a laptop.
We are artists.
Who write...
The language of the heart.
And, like children, we play.
We flow with words in the land of imagination.
We flow with lines and colours,
and the palette of our emotions.
We speak the language of the heart.
Together...
Yet apart.
We are artists.
Dedicated to my daughter Mary and her boyfriend Jeremy.  I loved our art session together!
 May 2016
Stephan
:

*Though sunny the days of cloudless expanse
in fields lowly rutted with fear
Down footprints of mud in a circular dance,
a garden now beckons my dear

A wood picket fence and a hedge overgrown
beyond an old gate bearing rust
That cringes and creaks near the wicked seeds sown
about northern winds once were ******

Vines cling an arbor in strangling grip,
creeping like worms neath your feet
Proud of their thorns and the flesh they do rip,
souring fruits ever sweet

Step into this realm where petals now bleed
with faces apart from the norm
On barbed wire stems of a nevermore need,
now cast of an unending storm

Awaits there child with a part in her hair
and roots tethered deep to the ground
A bouquet of pain offered up, if you dare,
in silence she speaks without sound

Come follow this path of a nightmarish dream,
where nothing that lives ever dies
But hold tight your tongue for she hates when you scream,
the girl with the blackberry eyes
 May 2016
PrttyBrd
It's a struggle
To exist
With only
Half
A soul
10w
50416
If you're ever on the riverside
where the sun beats your head
you would see the old man
selling hats of palm leaf
but you care not to notice him
having already smelled the sea
and too keen to cross the river
travel southward on the island
till the saline wind scalds your eyes
your skins itch to jump into the waves
yet the man with the palm leaf hats
would not cease to tell you
how burning would be the sun on the sands
and so badly you need to protect the head
by parting bucks that mean nothing to you
but a world to the mouths he feeds
and before you stamp on him a final no
she has one atop her hair
beneath which her eyes flutter like butterflies
her sun rouged cheeks untimely blush
and two born anew lovers
merrily head for the sea
having bought romance
for forty bucks.
 Apr 2016
Elisa Maria Argiro
Whirlwinding into a
  warm, sudden updraft
last, pink, pale petals
find each other, swirling....
Blushing once,
they flutter down,
  brushing the earth,
nesting back into gravity.
©Elisa Maria Argiro
 Apr 2016
PrttyBrd
Weeping turtles
On angels' wings
Electric harps
And choir sings
Traveling time
Remembering
As an era
Comes to close

French chabot
In fruited hues
Revving engines
With horses used
Nothing that
Compares 2 U
And songs
We'll never know

From pain
Was born a troubadour
Pushing limits
Breaking doors
Supernova
Evermore
Songs with
Silent lines

A legend lost
Within the mist
Of mewling souls
Interminus
Taking time
To reminisce
The party ends
In nines
042216
Within each and every one of us
is a unique culture:

Ethnocentrism
reaches just as far inward
as it does outward:

Just because
academia
has imposed it's own
fascist, totalitarian, absolute
definitions
does not mean
that it has final say:
i postulate
such adacemic-fetishism
is merely a byproduct of
propaganda
pushed by Big Money
rather than
a genuine insitution
of respectable edification:
that is
i see it as
a mere appeal
to authority;
a well-known logical fallacy
to those who are in the know.

Tread lightly.

Modern Academics
seems to be
yet another
corrupt branch
of Business;
little more.

Academic achievement
is not equivocal
to intellectual worth:

a graduate's degree
is moreso
a status symbol
than it is
a credential
anymore.

'T'is vile idolatry
in lieu of
an individual's personal philosophy;
that's not to say it's
absolutely worthless,
but it may as well be
in today's job market
(unless it's a business degree!)


Then again,
that's just my opinion.
i guess i oughtta shut up
before Edu-nazis shut me down.

Oops, did i type that out loud?
I'm so sorry, you see,
vhat i meant to say vas:
Heil Stanford!
Heil Harvord!
Heil Berkley!
Heil vhat i am told zu heil!
Heil zhe publishing companies!
Heil zhe holders of student loans!
Heil egredious student debt
in lieu of philosophical discourse,
let alone progress!

Heil vhat i see on TV!
Heil *******!
Heil alkohol!
Heil gasoline!

Do not qvestion zhe dogma;
go back zu sleep, you sheep!
Yet another write intended to be easily digestible by the masses, without any sort of difficult, contentious, or otherwise thought-provoking material so as to preclude any sort of discomfort or disagreement.
Written solely to be popular and to reinforce the status-quo.

Maybe I should stick to music. Y'know, something everyone can agree on. ;)


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