15h Isabelle
Vicki

into the humid
wild iteration
of summer, these
hours
summon humans'
special
power to remain
clothed,
pores covered
and it goes
against
our grain
not to get naked
in the rain
or not to cuddle
the whole family
in one cave
in one room.
it's too humid
for the latter,
ancient

into the wild
humidity,
the hours
are scattering
now,
the fleeting
mood of sweat
and harvest
closing in,
skinny dipping
in blue waters,
sleeping
on the banks under
the stars with
lovers
is soon
to move

to another realm,
the fall of autumn
and the furs
we'll wear, not
ashamed
to be covered
and spooning
bedding partners
is welcome.

|>
|
/\
/   \
/      \
¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤
in a time
of pain &
□sorrow□
□there is□
hope, there is a way
there's a place to go
in hardship□there's
a space for us today
Jesus stands as our¤
High Tower□He has
been there all along
□if you but ask He'll
let you enter□a fortress built
so high and strong □ on the □
mountain□in the valley□when
the pushing comes to shove□we
are safe forevermore□□□within
the Tower of Your Love/how can
we when troubles find us□keep
our hope□in patience wait?□
when all mortal strength has
left us□we will rest in walls
so great□help us, Lord, and
be our shelter□we'll find□□
□quiet in the storm □let the
sturdy Rock around us keep
us safe from all alarm□could
we ever find this peace? How
should we ever find this vale?
could we ever find this joy□□
□if the Tower won't prevail?
□may it ever be that we □□□
in faithfulness now tried and
true□□□find with gratitude so
deep□□the High Tower that is
You□ we will e'r find victory□
□□□the might that's sent from
heaven above□we'll stand□□□
within God's mighty Fortress

The High Tower of Your Love



SøułSurvivør
(C) 4/6/2013

This is something I wrote a while back. I just wanted to create concrete poetry from this particular piece. Thanks for reading!

messages
left on read
i know i never
linger in your head
for the words i should have said
are still sweet on my tongue
i didn't have the courage
to tell you we were done

the light washed over me and suddenly i was free of you, but the shadows occasionally creep back in
 17h Isabelle
Botan

What's reality
If no immortality
For love to survive

 17h Isabelle
Botan

Life without real friends
Like a poetry pages
scattered in desert

 17h Isabelle
Botan

We write poetry
Some time it's admirable
Some time deniable

Stick Man

Sticks and bones
Can write a poem
But words are
Seldom worthy
To explain
A deeper want
Like real beef
Instead of turkey...
To convey
Questionable thoughts
Where moralities
Ever pending
To write it down
And pass it on
Creative ears
Keep bending...

Skull

Bones and sticks
hand to pen
merely words, unspoken
driving down, to the end
not everything, is broken
tortured thoughts
as happiness sought
never simple, or easy
driving down the misery
of doors and feelings
open
....

Traveler Tim
Temporal Fugue
 18h Isabelle
NB

Part I - The Adrenaline Garden

Is it the constant charge of curiosity
Given to us at the gate out of Eden
That also makes us run from the natural course

Is it the thrill of the hunt
The lasting uncertainties
That ends the seasons & starts new wars

To depend upon the faithless
To be free only by words
Long ago carved in stone

To make order seem so faceless
To be safe - always denied
The rights that we only find alone

Cursed to think - not understand
The way the wheels of all worlds turn
A strong dose of pills of mind for the banned
As they watch the trees rotting, as they feel the pages burn

& we depend on books written
In the smoke of underground
Laws justified by a gun

But we'll be lost to its shining
Forgetting who we're made to be
When sending signals to the Sun

Onto the tracks of time
Carelessly moved forward
We run

Part II - It Exists

The wall told you more than just a tale
When the one you painted on it stared back through your eyes

& the voices somewhere repeated a wail
Taking the son to earth & leaving the father in the skies

The wall spoke, but did you hear it well
Could you notice the shapes & the faces trying to change

When the song you sang echoed back from hell
& the tears of the sacred seemed so strange

But the wall speaks only what you want to hear
The voice of a god whose image you've created

& the echo speaks of that which you fear
In the arrival of the one long awaited

Part III - Stoner's Lullaby

They told us of places & people that we'd see
One day, when our final crossroad is found
To the soul, one with all, they've given eternity
While leaving the body to rot in the ground

They told us of gates in the clouds, made of gold
They told us of angels that sing in the sky
But now I've learned that all they've ever told
Wasn't much more than a stoner's lullaby

They knew I needed a purpose, but never
Have they tried to help me find
The joy beneath the land of forever
The world torn between heart, body & mind

They told me of rebirth, repentance & regret
& the silence turned their faces in a lie
When I needed love, fear was all I could get
From their nighttime chants of a stoner's lullaby

Part IV - Into the Waves

Once upon an afterlife dream, I believed
That all of this earth was made wrong
Grasping for the darkest days
To sweet tomorrow I belonged

Once within a faithful servant, lived such fear
The heart's deepest secrets with stillness to break
Too long he had lived, thinking
That all he'd done can't be a mistake

'til they gave his body back to the river
In a straw-filled boat, never to return
& the arrow flew to light a fire
To the one whose flames no longer burn

& now, where he is..? We might never know
Is he near the shores that receive the lost ones?
Just looking at a show of tears & regrets
The sorrow of brothers, & the anguish of his sons


N.B.

 18h Isabelle
Sirwca

"Her eyes were the sun,
and when she gazed upon me,
the darkness evaporated,
And I felt love again"


A load of rubbish, if you ask me
You didn't ask, but I'll tell ya anyway

A dairy farm
on a mountain of prose
Smiling and spilling milk
Spoiling with a cheesy satisfaction
That feeling you felt?
It was your brain releasing chemicals
a survival mechanism
Producing waves of euphoria,
waves we so often mistake for love
They are nothing more
than a courtesy call,
a welcoming reminder
to reproduce
And survive as a species
We are a culture of incentives
So believe me when I tell you,
every action is selfish,
it is but a candy trail
to the greatest high
we've ever known;

to love and more importantly,
be loved

I mean, cmon

We all want to feel good,

don't we?

This started off as a love poem, but, for the sake of being an asshole, I made this. Sry fam
 18h Isabelle
C Tyler

All my friends and family are social,
They have friends and know people.

Then there's me, happily isolated,
Just writing and reading,
Lost in some trance of some fairytale land,

Also me....
And my stuffed animals,
The real world I've long abandoned,
Heard but no one's understanding.
C. Tyler

I'm just OK I guess, I don't know.
Next page