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is your faith so fragile
you **** to protect it?
no notes necessary
THERE

he was kissing her dreams,
holding her heart
taking her lips
loving her form
from his manly smell
he envelops her
and kissed her love
as he gives her daisies, roses
and brings his soul to her,
he picks her up
and gives her a loving surprise
and loves her like there will be no tomorrow
as he lays her in his dreams.

He molds her body with his hands
as lips dance all over her
then lifts her to new heights,
giving is he,
and fast falling in love with this man.

He takes her hand
and leads her to his domain
he whispers in her ear,
I will always love you
and his loving is slow and long
holding her in his position
his lips tingle her all over
his tongue explores every inch..

Her body is tingling
wanting more and more,
as she cries his name
he whispers in her ear
as she moans
he kisses her flower
she falls into her dream state
of passion and complete love ...

Debbie Brooks 2015
To My Love
 Jan 2015
Just Melz
The snow is white, very bright
As bright as the clouds
Very soft, very cold
Very very very old

Snow is white, such a sight
So very bright and so very soft
Beautiful and filled with ice
Very very very cold

Clouds are white and fluffy
Very bright and very soft
Round, rabbits, elephants, shapes
Very very very old
Comments would truly help her creative spirit. Thanks
 Jan 2015
The Anonymous Joker
sometimes
i apologize so much
i feel like i'm saying sorry for my existence
I'm so sorry
 Jan 2015
Chase Gagnon
You're my stillborn butterfly
afraid of your new beauty
with limp wings,
pried from the safety of your cocoon
by my old hands
in a forest where everything
is charred.
Only the skeletal trees
once lush with life and birdsong
can admire your strange elegance
as you lay listless on their roots
that thirst for a storm of passing love
and thunder.

I want to carry you away
to my field of wildflowers
and resurrect you with the unmasked glow
of the shy moon, who only shows its face
in this meadow of lies.
I'll watch the breeze wake you on my fingertips
then let you fly away, carelessly
into a world of color
I'll never compare to.
 Jan 2015
Jamie King
We are young men buried in books
Shoveling words every day
As we are gradually shaped into tools.

Ours minds drained deep in the pools
Of knowledge. So they say
We are young men buried in books.

We find ourselves caught in hooks
Of wisdom seekers shall we pray?
As we are gradually shaped into tools.

Exhausted, some will turn into crooks
While we proudly remain grey
We are young men buried in books.

We bear fruit of hope from the roots
Of pain so follow the rules we lay
As we are gradually shaped into tools.

Are we zombies in schools?
In our paths we never stray.
We are young men buried in books
As we are gradually shaped into tools.
I've never been the one to follow structures when it comes to poetry but when I heard about the villanelle and how difficult it is to master I just got excited and inspired
I think I have never been so exalted
As I am now by you,
O frost bitten blossoms,
That are unfolding your wings
From out the envious black branches.

Bloom quickly and make much of the sunshine
The twigs conspire against you
Hear them!
They hold you from behind

You shall not take wing
Except wing by wing, brokenly,
And yet—
Even they
Shall not endure for ever.
 Jan 2015
Arcassin B
Kik : abpoet18

Text : 386-225-5950


You could talk to me and conversate or just collab if you want I don't care really :)
Hmu guys :)
 Jan 2015
Amitav Radiance
Ignite the fire
To dispel darkness
The warmth
The glow
The light
Every corner lit up
Things in perspective
New ideas
New path
Cut across hurdles
Ignominy burns
Confidence
Visit new territories
Take along
The unfortunate
Hold their hand
Light up their life
Ignite the dreams
In every dark corner
Ignite the fire
 Jan 2015
Creep
I want to write your words on my skin
So that they can be fully absorbed
And with me forever.
A creepy one xD

Where did the party go
Miss jackson
Both by panic at the disco
 Jan 2015
Stefan Smith
You were a slave
to the pre-established ambitions
of a heightless power.
Interrogated
due to your distinction.
Obliged
into your choices.
Now you sit.
Proud of your seat,
But not knowing
You can stand.
The illusion of societal obligation.
 Jan 2015
Jamie King
The spark of passion ignites the heart, until it is engulfed in a conflagration of notions, as curiosity triumphs over caution.

The seed of wisdom, planted in fields of knowledge, is cultivated and refined in kingdoms of intellect to innovate speeches of freedom.

Blisters in sweaty palms, rubbing against the pen, as it drifts between the paths of future and past, where hope is met and joy is felt.

Consumed by epiphanies, the heart-beat is felt by trembling hands, squeezing the pen for inspiration, to bewilder imaginations, giving birth to new perceptions.
You take your time and put your heart into your work. This is for true poets (creativity challange)
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