Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Jul 2013 ethyreal
Amy Leigh
apricots and cigarette smoke:
your smile is infectious.
heat leaking through the little slit in the
window: melt like cool frosters on
a hot summer day - melt
into me
lets become solvent
in this little
car; (I wouldn't mind.)

combine together, like our parents
and parents before them. molecular;
everything, anything -
we are science.

I am not afraid, it is
you
who takes the air from
my gasping lungs; - look!
at his beauty; divine.


© A. Leigh
 Jul 2013 ethyreal
st64
C L A W
 Jul 2013 ethyreal
st64
Claw beneath your ribs
Hold down wild you
Just for a little while
Feel the anguished flutter
Begging these gruff hands . . .


1.
Fear takes commotive hold
Makes wooden legs
Delayed dance…..so delayed
Causing silent attendance of synchrony

No use stepping out for flight just yet, if alone
Will meantime practise wing-span
                           iron out brittle energy
                           attempt to fortify links
                           ..

2.
Careless snubs to fragile sapling
Did *absolutely nothing

To the course set out
Only hypocrites squander even half-truths
and wallow in obsequious words
rendering paralysis and decay

I will continue to claw beneath your ribs
Covert trove awaits us
In the tormented form of
Crashing waves on a broken coast
Hacked to near-distraction by potent searching


3.
Loss is not wasted
unseen by its absence:
evocative presence felt …with penniless eyes

I challenge you to visualise our melting:
                 perched on fate’s right shoulder
                 re-sent to this basic arena as buoyant token
                 summoned by that primordial, blue light
                 ..



the sun may well baulk and melt
at the ruddy sight of
such intense clawing beneath your ribs
(like your customary digging into my bristling blades)

To find my foetal place
within the calling drumbeats
of imperative you . . .





S T, sunsday . . . 21 July 2013
What is loss?
Just cos we may not see a person any more, really doesn’t they aren’t there: why, they’ve just assumed a different form, not so.
But we persistently fail to accept that change lies at the heart of progress…letting go.
Why do we battle so… with the inevitable?
Always acquisitive….acquisitive…must own… yet, we own plain SQUAT !!

(just yesterday, I was astounded to read that M. Jackson owns a piece of property ...on the MOON!!
Who the hell sold it to him? Who on earth owns the moon? How's this even possible?? lol
Yeah, we're crazy, really....that's for sure.)

Hey man, I’ll see you …on the other side…if I’m lucky enough to recognise you! Lol
Chillax!  





Sub-entry: You're A Lady  
Songwriter: SKELLERN, PETER

Now the evening has come to a close
And I've had my last dance with you
On to the empty streets we go
And it might be my last chance with you
So I might as well get it over
The things I have to say won't wait until another day

You're a lady, I'm a man, you're supposed to understand
How these things are often planned to be
You're romantic, I'm a fool,
You're the teacher, I've come to school
Here I sit and hope that you'll love me

You're pure magic, unlock my chain
Nothing ventured, nothing gained
And so I say with no restraint, be mine, be mine

Hard to answer, I agree
But then, I've got to know
I'm not asking you to marry me
Just a little love to show
Oh, I know I could make you happy
So the things I have to say
Won't wait until another day

You're a lady I'm a man
You are supposed to understand
How these things are
Often planned to be

You're romantic, I'm a fool
You're the teacher, I've come to school
Here I sit and hope that you'll love me
You're pure magic, unlock my chain
Nothing ventured, nothing gained
And so I say with no restraint, be mine, be mine


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=
 Jul 2013 ethyreal
Leila
I met a man one cold winter day

He spoke to me in an unfamiliar way

He was so humble -- I grew hopeful

I was just waiting on this man to make it vocal

He did but what I heard didn't convey

Any similarity to what I thought he would say

Yet I continued to hope as he faded away

Reality on my dreams did then prey

And now I can’t get him out of my mind

I’m anxious and worried all of the time

I can’t loosen this grip on my heart

Whatever remains will soon fall apart
 Jul 2013 ethyreal
Andrew Durst
I sit inside my room
While the other kids are outside
Playing contacts sports
And talking about their days
With all the challenges
That they had to face

The sun is casting in through the
Only window I have
But I don't really mind the loneliness
Of my room, it's actually comforting
After a day of putting up with kids
Trying to one up each other
With everything they do

I'm not saying I'm different
Or anything of that sort
But I'd rather relax and reminisce of times
When the only time I had to worry
Was whether or not I was getting a
Deck of cards to add to my collection
On a peaceful summer morning

Times were simple when I was young
So it's clear to see that things have changed
But still, I don't mind

I enjoy a cigarette in the morning
With the fresh dew drying underneath the sun
Watching the birds collect food for their
Newly hatched chicks
And in the night time
Smoking while I contemplate about
Simple things such as
Regrets
Love
Life
And other things that I don't care to mention

So, as I sit inside today with the sun
Spitting rays into my room through my only
Bedroom window
I realize that I'm actually quite content
With the way things are.
 Jul 2013 ethyreal
K Balachandran
A honeybee he is,
but how does he know
it's his brief to make honey;
never once it was  articulated anywhere,
following a faint tune of fragrance
he flies, crossing barriers, forgetting everything else.

This is a divine madness, his blood sings,
he is just an instrument in the creation of sweetness,
but when,
the rain clouds pour down in torrents
the flowers are laden with water
his honey tastes different.
In summer he hums a different tune,
in resonance with many fragrances that invite him,
as flowers vie with each other,
to let him have their taste.
Honeybee's tune now changes to a love song,
always remembered by the inebriated pairs of lovers
roaming in the gardens.
A honeybee he is, he is unaware what it means,
he is prompted by nature in all he does.

— The End —