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 Oct 2015
SE Reimer
~

there is a lighthouse churning
in the fury of the storm,
thirty-three for land are yearning,
loved ones waiting news at home;
a captain and his crew a'fight
brave souls that never cease to hope,
to bring their ship to port a'right
all pray for dawn that never comes.

fifty feet from trough to crest
she drops with groan to valley low,
to rise again with frothing peak,
her wild plunge from stern to bow
she is no place for wearied souls,
provides no quarter for the weak;
no port in sight, for thee no rest,
yet braver souls we need not seek.

her vessel old is wearing thin,
her searchers all but losing hope;
as only remnants one by one,
in bits and pieces still afloat
leaves watching world a sense of dread;
alone remains a sheen of grief,
these waters won’t release their dead;
El Faro won't you speak?

did you break apart in final hours?
or did you roll into the deep?
listing near the Crooked isle,
your precious cargo now we seek;
even one to tell your tale,
are all now lost; is all forlorn?
of those that stepped aboard to sail
will no one living come ashore?

though wreckage lost into the deep,
though family arms now torn apart,
in waves awash the mem’ries heap,
your tale lives on in untold hearts!
your souls cannot the ocean keep,
for fathers, sons, daughters, lovers,
unknown eyes for you now weep,
your names in prayer a world now utters!

all that to these waves go down.
you that ply this furied sea;
you, the brave, though lost have found
a harbor’s safety from the storm,
a port that offers welcome,
hope from strife forevermore,
safe in everlasting arms,
now rest eternal; peaceful be!

~

*post script.

this news story has increasingly gripped my attention since first breaking early last week. i began putting thoughts together earlier this week, but had hopes of publishing instead a writ ending on a joyous note.  with the Coast Guard calling off their six-day search this evening, all are now being declared lost at sea on Oct. 1st, 2015.  no joyous ending, no happy reunions... only sadness, like a sheen of grief over the Atlantic.

she was  just shy of 800 feet in length, El Faro (the Lighthouse), a US flagged cargo vessel, en route from Jacksonville to San Juan; she carried 28 Americans and five Poles, to the depths near Crooked Island, Bahamas; her last transmission- “propulsion lost, listing 15 degrees”.  

her tragic end, succumbing to the fifty foot seas of Hurricane Joaquin, leaving no survivors, none to tell her final hours; only one life ring and a body of broken evidence amongst the flotsam midst the waves.

rest in peace you brave souls thirty and three!
with your families we grieve!
 Oct 2015
Mike Hauser
we were the innocent
never was there a doubt
teenagers on a whim
but of course the years found out
a madding loop to this dream
continually replaying the scene

over & over

it starts out with us holding hands
you turn smooth to smile at me
the dream then kicks up the band
though i don't catch the melody
still we both dance to the night
much like it is a crime

over & over

then there is that little dress
yes, the one in scarlet red
after all that can be said
no, it's never left my head
the very night i took you home
on your front porch swing we swung

over & over

but then the sunlight filters in
back into my lonely den
bringing reality to the dream
that nothing is ever as it seems
craziness takes a direct hit
to the face of no getting over it

because it's...

over & over
 Oct 2015
Kelly Rose
A Rough Patch

Only I can live my life
Accept my flaws and damaged soul
Childhood left wounds like a knife
Leaving its mark, taking its toll
Wounds fester when left unattended
Making room for woe’s despair
Longing for my soul to mend
And my broken heart repaired
All wounds do not heal with time
Making it hard to let love in
Life has no reason, nor rhyme
Hope comes and goes on a whim
Doubts and inertia often plague me
And I wonder if I’ll ever love me

Kelly Rose
October 3, 2015
I believe that one day soon Christ shall return.
I believe that unconditional love can save the person.
I believe that love , truth, and faith are a choice.
For either we believe in something or not believe.
I believe that by our choices we choose our reality.
I believe that where our Hope lies is where we end up at.
I believe that we all make mistakes and fail others.
I believe that Christ was the only perfect one that walk the earth.
I believe that Christ can heal all wounds and pains.
 Oct 2015
GaryFairy
i was born a demon
in the middle of a storm
nightmares overcame dreaming
i grew out my horns

one day an angel
shined a light on me
changing my whole angle
of the way i could see

she touched me softly
she said i could fly
she lifted my inner spirit
then left me high and dry

i fell...

i was back on earth now
where evil is the norm
i feel like i am changing
back to my demon form
this is just metaphorical for how love, or lost love can change a person, and i don't feel like a demon at all :)
come into my open arms
filled with love
a home of gentle knowing
strong to see you through

come into my arms so I may
wrap you in my warmth
touching tender recesses
of your heart

no need to stand guard
against hurt or judgement
come into my arms
filled with love


Copyright © 2015 Christi Michaels. 
All Rights Reserved
A 're-write of Come In...
Extending love and support to all
those we touch with our presence.
Leaving hurts and judgments behind.
 Sep 2015
Paul Butters
When I was eighteen I wrote “The Bedrock”
In which I said
The Priority is to Survive.
But I’m sixty three now,
And that’s not enough.
It’s not all about Me, so
It’s time to decide
What is Good.

Well, my friend
All Life is Good.
Every living thing.
From enormous whale
To spiteful wasp,
Bacteria
To Ecosystem.

Yet some beings must be extra-cherished:
Those that are conscious,
Sentient and smart.

Intelligence as such is there to be nurtured
And knowledge learnt.
So too wisdom,
But above all
Love.
Do unto others as you would have them do unto you:
A great old saying.
Be a Humanist indeed,
But better still,
A Lifist
Who Loves Life.

All else follows on from what I’ve just said.
Go figure.

Paul Butters

© PB 25\9\2015 (2).
No more pondering. Time to decide...
 Sep 2015
Dhaye Margaux
Heto ako ngayon, punum-puno ng ngiti
Isang balatkayo na mananatili
Habang ako'y takot, ngayo'y walang lakas
Tahakin, suyurin, maulap na bukas

Masdan mo ang labi na nag-aanyaya
Ng isang masayang puso ko at diwa
Subalit kung masilip ang puso kong pagal
Lakas at tatag ko'y di na magtatagal

Halika't yakapin ang aking alindog
Masdan at lapitan, aking niluluhog
Sana makita mo ang bawat bahagi
Naluray na laman, dito sa 'sang tabi

Durog na ang dibdib, maging ang isipan
May bukas pa kayang sa 'ki'y nakalaan?
Masdan ang palad kong natigmak sa dugo
Halika't subukang gamutin ang puso

Tayo na't maglakbay, ang diwa kong tulog
Panaginip sana'y saya ang idulog
Maging totoo ka't isayaw mo, sinta
Magsaya sa gabing pag-ibig ang dala.
Para sa mga nangangarap... <3 <3 <3
 Sep 2015
Dark n Beautiful
Do you trust me to deliver my poems to you?
Without re-inventing the pages or
disparaging my poetic talents

“A man who views the world the same at 50
as he did at 20 has wasted 30 years of his life.”


Poetry is ongoing art form, the poet never cross the
River to get the imagery,
for the same reason a ghost can’t cross water

Every artist dips his brush in his own soul,
and paints his own nature into ....
The painter puts brush to canvas, and the poet puts pen to pad


Do you trust me to deliver my poems to you?
Without the *******, let me surrender to my passion.
Let me write with all of you in mind
Let's spread kindness and happiness where it’s most needed
into the hearts of the one who believe in me

Poetry is an going art form
educate yourself about the history of the human spirit, before
Condemning it to the trash with the avatar symbol,
Make your craft, worth repeating
and your poems would stand out
like a breath of fresh air in a crowded room.
 Sep 2015
Walter W Hoelbling
dead bodies floating
in our oceans
from the Asian Pacific
to the Mediterranean

crumpled corpses lying
on our beaches
thousands drowned unknown

overcrowded detention centers
not unlike concentration camps
behind barbed wires
guarded by police and snarling dogs

nobody feels responsible

not  those who started wars
destroyed whole cities
made millions homeless
and into refugees

not those who take advantage
of the chaos for their own gain
abusing the names of their gods
or some ancient figurehead
to excuse their atrocities and greed

not those who live
in comfortable homes
and wish the desperate crowds
would just stay on the TV screen
and not come close

nor those who pretend
to be the guardians
of our great humanitarian heritage
but show no backbone
against nationalist fanatics

it is the shame of the world
to sit and talk and watch
and not do enough

those who turn away
the needy and homeless
could also
      quite suddenly
lose their homes

forced to rely
on the kindness of strangers
The terracotta shines in the westerly sun
when the man and the woman
fly on the temple courtyard
on the wings of time.

She touches the sculptured kiss
He stares at the ample breast
She blushes at the frozen mount
He awes at the curve and crest
She feels a longing to be his
He wishes seizing her for a kiss.

Shadows grow long on the burnt clays,

time to go separate ways.
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