Havran

Havran Jul 2015

Roses askew on the floor
and scented lilac candles
flickering fleetingly into the wind
outside
these rusty windows
that creek and break
my sleep
in the middle of most every night
I turn
and I can see You
vividly
as if yesterday
You were not the silhouette
of the woman
that I have come to love.

#love #poetry #loss #spilled-ink #summersdawn

Jul 2015

poetessa diabolica

Tranquility's Awed Hush

stars silently
    enveloped
     turbulent seas,
gingerly dappling
   each current,
whence the tides
   were stilled
'til they ebbed
    'tween streams
        of serene
            spring waters,
      rushing its
          banks in
             cascades of
                tranquil
                     awed hushes
                         overflowing
                                midst
                                   surrender's
                                                   quietude

#stars #surrender #seas #tranquility #turbulence #quietude

Jul 2015

Mikaila

Paper Wings

Sometimes you're so gentle with me,
And after so long without you it makes me smile to see you be so careful not to hurt me.
Careful in a way you never were before.
And I, for my part, am much more durable than the girl you left.
You have returned with more tenderness,
And I have, in your absence,
Become less fragile.
I think it's beautiful.

Havran Jul 2015

C'est la vie

She was as if sunlight in my hands;
right there but constantly slipping
through the gaps of my fingers.

#love #loss #warmth #sunlight

Havran Jul 2015

A ten word story

Keep I love you from
ever becoming a reflex response.

It's the Monday Blues.

#love #important #never-forget

Jul 2015

Nicole Dawn

Remember

Always remember
That the books
Who are the most worn
The most torn and ripped
The most broken

Those books are that way
Because everyone loved them
For what was inside

#hope #book #books #worn

Jul 2015

Cullen Donohue

Unfinished

Supine
On the floor
Of an unfinished treehouse

I stare into
The glow
Of a Wednesday
Morning.

My sketch pad
And a few
Unfinished books
Scattered around me
Some are fiction
Others not.

I stare into the
The ever lightening
Sky, searching
For inspiration.

She took that with
Her.

I lost a sense of
What beauty is
When I no
Longer woke to
Her eyes.

Poems and sketches sit
half finished
And I lie half
-- of what I was.

In a world that
Has such a complete
Understanding
Of every
Morning
Breath.