Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 Jul 2019 Deeba
LN
things can be different
from different point of views.
the same sceneries can be dull
or they can be filled with hues.

the flickering flame can burn
or the flame can be warm.
the water can quench thirst
or the water can bring storm.

we don't have to think alike,
we don't have to be the same.
for some people my words could mean
and for some they could be lame.
I see a world where everyone bleed feelings into everything they do
you might see it as a labyrinth  of forgotten people.


if we are not different then, who are we?
 Jul 2019 Deeba
Ann
keep your eyes closed love.

           e     t      
       m           i
    o                 m
s                        e  
                            s     all you have to
                                                                ­
                                                                ­ l                  to is what the sound
                                                           ­      i            n
                                                  ­                s           e
                                                               ­          t

                                                              ­                               v
                                                               ­                         a        e
                             ­                                          of the  w               s
                                                               ­                                       
                         ­                                                                 ­            tells  you
                                                                ­                                        to do.
"Keep your eyes closed, love. sometimes all you have to listen is to what the sound of the waves tells you to do."

When I was much younger, beaches were my second favorite places. I still love watching waves as they go by, crashing against each other and the whole process repeating all over again.
 Jul 2019 Deeba
Stained Glass
"---I think...
        that every deep thinker is
            more afraid of being understood
                      than of being misunderstood.---"
 May 2019 Deeba
Pax
poets
 May 2019 Deeba
Pax
most of us are lonely
often our pools are too deep and
no one seem to bother swimming in our depths
perhaps it takes a skilled diver to understand
our inner core.

and because we feel too much
we drown ourselves in the pool of
sorrows, dying in self pity.
Her thoughts and I,
we stay awake
waiting for someone,
hoping for somethings
for the heart in pain
needs no tending
just a pinch of the divine
and that silver lining.

I think of the moments
we gently stole
from the curious eyes
of tired souls
our driving the distance
to escape our own
and finding the universe
in our palms, unfold.

There in the coffee shop
she stares at me
from the helpless tea bag
in scalding water.
In the bottle she would get
to quench her thirst
I find her asking if
my need's greater than hers.

The empty seat of car,
in front
is taken in her absence
by her memories warm
The gear shaft
without our fingers twined
is stripped bare
of our naked thoughts

The rains when they come,
they flood my heart
for a stormy noon
is still parked within
when the highway was lost
behind a sheet of rain
and in lights all turned on,
our tongues were mating.

Her breath is all over
this gluttony of a glass
half filled with wine,
half consumed by need
Now, the dam opens,
blood rising to the lips
flooding me with her thoughts
she can never read...
Where do you find love?
In the absence of your love...
 May 2019 Deeba
phil roberts
There's a shower of rain
Yet the sun still shines
There must be a rainbow
Somewhere

An old man nods in his chair
He came from nowhere
And went nowhere else
Journeying all the way

Now he journeys through time
Down the aching years
Things that he's seen and done
Some good and wondrous
And some of them terrible

An old man nods in his chair
Travelling
Behind closed eyes
All the things he's seen and done
The people he's known
All the things he's said
Within his nodding head

Tears pour down his face
Down the canyons grooved by time
And yet he smiles
Gently and softly
There must be a rainbow
Somewhere

                       By Phil Roberts
Next page