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 Feb 2015
Onoma
How many ends in and of themselves
constitute a fill that is yours?
Abreacted claimant...many airs
light at the feet.
I Am with you, I Am you upon this
All-encompassed fold.
Our knees stupefied by weight...
gone weak--gone strong, time and
out of so again.
As a priest walking up the aisle,
censer oscillating the concrescence
of attending souls.
Sniffing for the emblazoned churchyard...
known paces out of doors--the sky
falling down and granting pace no more...
of we, figured in the delving core,
cored out...The Great Scattering.
 Feb 2015
Graff1980
The American dream
Is a Bentley
With some shiny thing
Selfish arrogant human beings
Wanting more and more

While some places could use a doctor
Plumbing of any kind
Would be mighty fine
And something to eat
Well that’s like a treat

The American style
Has us throwing good clothes away
No need to save
Or share
No need to care
For someone else
Only numero uno matters

In other places races just wish
That the police would cut their ****
Stop pointing guns at them
And shooting their children
Or that local warlords
Would leave their children be
Democracy is just a pipe dream

The American way
Strives to separate us
In competitive groups
Desensitize us
And dehumanize the other

In other places people share
Out of love
What little they have
They are glad
To give to another
So who is civilized?
 Feb 2015
Jamie King
Poets singing the same chorus pain torture, feeling hollow. vessels turned into shadows pen masters forever followed by sorrow.

Let us lighten your shoulders plant seeds of bliss in fields of decaying peace. Aid you in finding feelings you seek for and realise your dreams.

Diminish your fears till your phobias flee in tears.
Pull your words from the depth of blindness and silence to top and enlighten the sightless.

Let us make love be the signature of life in poems.
Brushes will smile when painting with glowing hearts.
Inspired by Poets and their tragic,sad,heartbreaking writes.
~Christi Michaels~February 2015~
~ω~⊙~ω~

I will not cry
repeat
I will not die
assure
Over and over
Till my heart misses a beat
And all I have held so dear
Year after year
Now falls apart with every
single tear


~ω~ω~⊙~ω~ω~
Copyright © 2015 Christi Michaels.
All Rights Reserved
The Breaking of A Tender Loving Heart
 Feb 2015
Dhaye Margaux
Shall I hate the  time for not being kind?
Shall I get mad of it for confusing my mind?
Or shall I look pass of it like a serious blind
Even when today I am left behind?

Shall I hate the raindrops  for being cold
When they always think of me being bold?
When I want to touch and long to hold?
This feeling of mine seems uncontrolled.

Shall I hate the space between us, dear
All the feeling's faint and nothing's clear?
Shall I tell you more about my fear
What's hurting me, sharp as a spear?

Shall I hate the world for being failed
When pain's the only thing that prevailed?
Shall I hate this life like someone jailed
When it's too much late the truth is unveiled?
A passing mood...
 Feb 2015
ryn
.
    It's here again...
   Heavy downpour...
   I inhaled the rain,
    cloying with petrichor.

      Standing at my window,
     looking out...
    Street lamps struggled aglow.
   People with brollies walking about.

   My eyes reached out to the heavens,
    tracing these glassy beads
      as they'd free fall...
        Falling by the sheets,
       the pattering hastens,
      periodically punctuated
     by the thunder's call.

     Mind is drifting and floating,
       intently listening to a
          million love wishes...
             Liquid beauty...melding, sketching...
           In light entrapped splashes.

         Raindrops descend and come,
         into my still life tonight...
          Won't you will me numb,
             with your chilly bite...

             Wide-eyed enamour...
            Catching a stray droplet or two.
             Riding the tail of a zephyr,
              finding a place where
                no trouble could ensue.

            An errant gust blew
           to meet with me.
          The refreshing moist
         meets my parted lips...
        Inhaling deep in this reverie...
       Into a sea of tranquillity,
        my mind slowly dips...

      Sigh... If the droplets were kisses...
      I would savour each and every one.
      If the moist wind came and caresses
     I would meet it in a tight embrace
   till the break of sun.

  What a sight...
   Almost surreal it seems...
      As the light from the surrounding
         lamps dances playfully...
        Dispersing and exploding into a
     barrage of shattered beams.
    Before it gets subdued in the drops
   caught by the leaves on a nearby tree...

   The drops would trickle
     and fall before merging,
      forming stranded puddles
       unable to flow...
        Rippling... Splashing... Reflecting...
      An image...
     Borne out of a fantastic show.

    An image of beating hearts,
     overlapping one another...
       Speaking of consequential love
          and feelings so true
        Intertwined...
     in the promise of forever...
  Slowly retrieving itself into an...


  image of you...
 Feb 2015
NuurSeraph
I hope to lead a life that leaves me
with nothing more to give when I die
in the simple sense that I will have
succeeded in giving it all away.
*The less I'll have to trudge with me
to the Other-side, the better....
One of Some of the funnier introspective thoughts and wishes I imagine occurring in the mind of a rightfully tired old soul, upon reflection on yet another life lesson survived successfully.
 Feb 2015
Onoma
The Bride which was its essence unto woman, the
Bridegroom which was its essence unto man--the
Living Epithalamium.
Generational rings slipped on and off the earth...
whose lives lived, and to be lived amongst the
manifold induction to creaturesque contention.
Championed, as to be made in the Image that
allows All--and of that All as it shone upon this
earth...the Bride and Bridegroom emerged from
that blinding Light.
...Partake of this your earth, a still unshakable
inner voice implored, for you would not be, nor
this earth, were it not for my longing that you
should partake of it.
You are fruitful, so how shall you not go forth
and be therefore.
This life has neither floor nor ceiling, what is down
is up, and up...down--that is so ye may be chastened
by the ineffable...Living Epithalamium.
Love, were it not--pit against for hatred's sake...
as if in your time I stood opposed in my own--we
could and should tire of such time...as to relent our
time to one another, thus be rid of it.
Transfixed...thy face--resolute as to crumble stone...
wed be as you are, and ever shall be...so loved One...
by the Living Epithalamium.
Thou art an open Wound dressed and redressed...
delivered thereby.
How so of many a time, and no time to dearly depart
from that Wound...were question, question enough...
O Living Epithalamium.
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