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 Jul 2015
Sourodeep
The moon is now bright and full
showering silver romance,
to the leaves of tree so dull.

A cricket humming his chants
deep in meditation behind
the dark unknown shrub's branch.

Somewhere in a nest, a hatchling can't sleep
letting out feeble hunger cries
her mother did not fetch enough to feed.

While on my walk, I see those eyes
hiding behind a trunk, peeping
I assure it safety, I know may be lying

Night is the time for them to be,
struggling to enjoy independence and security
this unending night leading them to the unknown
what will remain I wonder at the crack of dawn.
What future can we give to these plants and animals, we have already invaded every inch of land and air.
I picked up that old
leather bound book
and realise the journey
as I sit here and look,

I feed on the narrative
with newly wide eyes,
I look forward to words
that will thrill and surprise.

The story progresses
as continuous phrases
set characters free
with each turn of the pages.

Personality's form
the more that I read
and the more that I see
then the more that I need.

My mind is awash
with this tale in my mind
as I continuously
leave the real world behind.

Lost in a new place,
succumbed by an age,
entranced by the images
that leap from the page.

This old leather bound book
fights a war that is won
for I cannot put it down
till this journey is done.
14th May 2015
© Copyright Christopher K Bayliss 2014
 Jul 2015
Poetic T
An urban legend of sorts they said, of a tree, of a
branch that took any weight given. it has nickname
It had a place in secluded nature where no one seen.

"The *** tree,

"Really,

"Ye but you have to watch your step,

"Why??

"Well lets just say its a well fertilized ground,
"The earth and plants feed well on the,
"Sap,
"Seeds,

Not from one but the many, I heard the branch
Can take any weight, a gentlemen of plentiful weight
Tested the legend and got stuck **** naked
Not for a,

"Moment,
"Minute,
"Hours,

"Was he stuck, birthday suit and all,

His lady friend had jogged off with wallet and all,
Its on YouTube,
Called tree hugger nudist,

There is loads of dents little *** holes,
Some say its all the ***** *******,
So many hard ones poking dents,
indentations forever of ******* against this tree.

"I've been their done that,

Really,

"Never again,
"Were standing on this branch,
"What's that look for,

"Nothing,
(Giggles under breathe)

"Getting into the moment,
"Thought sap,
"Tree sap,
"Was seeping in to my hair,

"Don't stop what happened stuck,
"Pants down skinny **** man up tree,
(giggles loudly)

"Dude I'm 6 foot 5inches,
It was sap of a different kind,

(Gags in mouth)

No Fudging way,

Yep that's not the worst,

"How the hell does some one seed a tree that high,

"It was like the tree was ******* itself,

"Old juice, sap, Klingon,
"What ever I throw up on her,
She bit down,
I, we feel three feet out the tree,

"So that's what the plaster cast is from,
"Is that why your walking funny,

Twenty nine stitches its like something
From a Frankenstein film,

Never again my friend a bed is where ill be from
Now on, she fell in a puddle of Jib juice triplets
She had all three different, DNA tests on all
Who visited the tree.
As a video recorded of all who entered,
Just not the naked bits seen.

"Nature can keep its *** tree,
   "I'll be lucky if mine works again,
"Mine isn't wood its a limp branch now,

"Dude you got ****** by wood,
"Bitten limp by teeth,
"Unlucky bro,
"Hahahahah,
*"Rather you than me,
 Jul 2015
Poetic T
Winds muteness, touching
All senses always heard
Without a voice.
 Jul 2015
Ann M Johnson
I like to take a dip in the poetry well
when my life seems to be dry
I like to take a dip in the poetry well
when I question why
I like to take a dip in the poetry well
when I lost the courage to try something new
I like to take a dip in the poetry well
when I need encouragement then I get it from you
I like to take a dip in the poetry well
to ease some anxiety
I like to take a dip in the poetry well
let my emotions swell
I take to take a dip in the poetry well
while holding paper and a pen
I like to take a dip in the poetry well
where inspiration never ends
I like to take a dip in the poetry well
where I can gather with my friends
This is for All My Hello Poetry Friends!!!!
Thank You so much for your friendship and encouragement!!!
Josiah Jack
never uttered a sound
when they dragged him away
from the scene.
when his poor body
was eventually found,
the treatment endured,
had been mean.

With no tongue in his head
they had left him for dead.

With a month
on his back,
he did indeed
contemplate.
Only sin
“he was black”
hence forth
this weary state.

They attacked in the night,
hooded and white.

All in all
he was
lucky
to be
breathing at all,
all because
he was plucky,
all because
he stood tall.

A ***** they said
should lower his head.

Were they hooded
for fear?
Were they hooded
in shame?
Most likely,
once covered,
they could hide
of their name.

If things were so right,
why hide out of sight?

Bravery isn't
a word for the ****,
Cowards,
this word comes to mind.
Bravery comes
when there's only one man,
not one
with ten more stood behind.

I will strike in a pack
with someone watching my back.

Their plan
was to ****,
this man
Josiah Jack.
Perhaps they
get a thrill
when someone
cannot fight back.

They get real loud
when they join with the crowd.

Josiah
knew well
that if he
raised a hand
his kin folk
would feel hell
from this
unruly band.

So he did not fight
but gave in to his plight.

They think
they were hidden
beneath that
white hood,
Josiah's hearing
is sound
and his
memory is good.

So when things are forgot,
he will take of his lot.

That's exactly
what happened,
as they lay
in their bed.
The flames hurled
with fury
the sky
filled with red.

This man barbequed them like fish on a rack
and no one put it down to Josiah Jack.
13th July 2015
© Copyright Christopher K Bayliss 2014
 Jul 2015
Mike Hauser
this moment

showed up

just in time

reminding me of

nevermind

holding hands

to guide

the blind

in hopes that

they would find

the nevermind

eluding me

the after thought

of what could be

in full view

of you and me

the nevermind

in all we see
 Jul 2015
martin challis
dingly fingly
wickety wackety
overflow going up
crickety crackety
and all of the dangen, the
dingin and dongin and
on and on and onagain onagain

snippety snippety
spinagain spitagain
flatabout backwardsing
flatabout forwardsing
sobusy thisbusy
toobusy stressfactor
not stopping till rictus
or blowups and messfactor

notlearning notlistening
gofigures upratcheting
notseeing nothearing
ambivalence hatcheting
all in dingly the
wickety wack
the edge up approaching
from whichety which
will be no coming back


MChallis © 2015
Trying my hand at absurdism - silly really
 Jul 2015
Musfiq us shaleheen
~~
Those might have been told in any other way
but you could not understand
No, No this is not a spring song
Not even a fairytale

An exclusive secret,
a pain which originates within a love,
reverberates with the rebel song,
within your known sky, wind

Naturally has seen in dreams
Rarely meets with the real
Crops of thousand wishes,
As the Vinci's Mona Lisa

Truly forms in nature
which has a vitreous luster
As the Crystal of Sapphire blue
where the beauty beyond

Of the words mystery unveiled,
yet the fascination of the Poe's uncovered poetry,
As the fathomless depth of Mid Atlantic ridge,
which goes a long way

Tastes like the first kisses of love
which is full of longing
where whole life is covered with dissatisfaction,  
within the prospect of ever known

Like an old wine
where levels of alcohol is too high
After spreeing over the night,
Still hanging in,
Even after taking the morning black coffee
~~
@ Musfiq us shaleheen
 Jul 2015
Richard Riddle
Finally reached my two days off-
decided that "today, I will do nothing."
But, isn't "doing nothing, doing something?"
We don't realize how important the word "doing" is.

"What are you doing?"
"How are you doing?"
"Why are you doing.......?"
"When are you doing.....?"
"Who are you ......... (Oops!, Save that one for later)

copyright" r. riddle July 06, 2015
 Jul 2015
Sabbathius
The burden’s growing heavier with each second
Been keeping my head up, and never beckoned
On through the night, dragging this weight alone
These winds are strong, they freeze me to the bone

Constantly afraid of what may be lurking
No matter the cost, I have to keep looking
In the unknown, I place my only hope
Feels like waiting for the snap of a rope

“To start anew”, they said with smiley faces
“Go in peace! Travel to find different places.
This land is dying and so are we all.
Go now! But remember, you must stand tall!”

So far, I haven’t found a place to settle
Many days went on in this constant battle
Got no map or compass to guide my way
As I advance, deeper into the fray

Water and hail, fall heavily on my path
For far too long, I faced the storm god's wrath
For how much longer will I have to roam?
Must it be this hard, to find a new home?

Maybe I’ll just stop, sit right here and wait
Calm my body, spirit and fast heart-rate
Perhaps someone might pass around these parts
Provide some help, so that my journey starts


*Journey Short on Hope by João Massada is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.
 Jul 2015
LB Parker
10w
I have become very uninterested
in a life without you.
With love, kelsey
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