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 Jun 2016 Ara
mikecccc
As I was preaching to the choir
It dawned on me
that an easily pleased audience
was quite nice
if not the best for growth.
 Jun 2016 Ara
Jeff Stier
This Ground
 Jun 2016 Ara
Jeff Stier
The bones of this earth
grind down our fates
our hopes
our dreams
our lives

And a feathered serpent rules
over these climes
this western hemisphere
these Americas
have you heard?

Something elemental shapes this
world
and tempers our lives.
Unknown to most.

The old ones
the people who lived here before
knew him

Quetzalcoatl
Kukulkan
God of learning
Wearer of the wind jewel
the one who whispers life
and death
through his lips.
And you must drink it.
Alive or dead.

The morning star is his sign.
The evening star
his farewell.

He carries the sun
as a shield
and your fate
your fortune
as a good luck charm.

Listen and look.
You will see
You will hear it.

Whispers like water
from the heart
the skin
the bones of this sweet earth.

Listen.
You will hear it.
 Jun 2016 Ara
Lazhar Bouazzi
Poets, like
madmen and prophets,
are banned from
the Kingdom of Reason,
as they are
the progeny of the sun
(the sun who illumines as he blinds)
and the siblings
of the rays
who never tire
of beating
the world into
magnificent new shapes
that fascinate us
all – including
Unwavering Moon whose
lonesome secret is to be
madly in love
with the rainbow.

© LazharBouazzi, May 26, 216
 Jun 2016 Ara
Stephan
Out of ink
 Jun 2016 Ara
Stephan
.

I was going to write a poem
but I just ran out of ink
I had the stanzas lined up nice,
I know I did, I think

It said how much I loved her,
and that she had gone away
Rhymes about my broken heart,
how it was here to stay

One verse filled with crying,
those endless falling tears
While hiding neath the covers
afraid to face my fears

Another said I miss her,
my days had all turned gray
There was no sun, there was no moon,
just sadness on display

I mentioned how I need her,
life will never be the same
Saying I was sorry,
that I knew I was to blame

My entire world is empty
and I couldn’t take much more
She’d always be my every thing,
the one I would adore

I really hoped to write it,
though I know she’d never see
These feelings that I’d write about
so deep inside of me

So now I’ll just forget it,
nothing else to do, I think
Except to sit here with my pen
that’s just run out of ink
 Jun 2016 Ara
Stephan
.

I play my guitar,
now crying in sevens
a cold vacant morning
with rain on the ground

Sorrowful chords,
on the strings of emotion
in three quarter tear drops
where sadness is bound

                                   And the storm clouds they form
                                   on the edge of tomorrow
                                   with thoughts ever yearning
                                   for your melodies

                                  dreaming of yesterdays
                                  caught in the feedback,
                                  out of tune longings
                                  in lost harmonies


Breathing in silence
of fret seperations
seeking a songlist
of lyrics unfound  

A chill strums my heart,
sitting empty and hollow
I play my guitar
and there isn’t a sound
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