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 Dec 2021 Not Lauren
Toothache
Sit back and relax
Feel the waves wash over your back
In the melting sun
Looking at the clouds reflecting all the pinks and blues
Over the blooming hill, echoing white noise of chirps and crickets

Listen to the trickling of the slow water over the smooth rocks
Feel a warm wind brush your face
With your eyes closed
Enjoying the radiating warmth
And the soothing crackling of a log fire

Or sit and admire the shimmering spray
Of a waterfall smoothly crashing into the water of a sky kissed lake
Sunlight dancing through the vapor
Rainbows jumping through every droplet

Listen to the pitter patter of the rain, against a tin roof
Inside a warm cabin
Drifting to sleep
Soon to wake to the song bird's chorus
And the blissful sun

Bask in it
And relax
Outside of the library,
On a wet, wet day,
You smiled and said
'I love you'
Before walking away
Towards the platform, where you depart,
And I know that I will always feel this way
About you.

You run your fingers through my hair and with them bring
The cool, fresh air that
I have longed for, all throughout the
Winter.

The green flecks and
The blue hues of your eyes
Connect you to this current season:
Springtime.
Through your warmth and light,
You have given me
New life.

I have been told that said eyes are the window to the soul, so
When we kiss we must never keep our eyes closed;
An exchange of hearts for an exchange of souls that will continue, and
Never grow old.
No, she isn't a poet
has never inked one
she takes off my weight
gets my things done

so I have enough time
to afford in a way
the luxury of rhyme
clever wordplay!

No, she isn't a poet
not written one line
clean is her slate
sees I'm fine

so I have enough space
and hour of my own
to indulge the grace
of thoughts mind grown!

No, she isn't a poet
no way she would be
she does her best
to see I'm happy

so my words run smooth
poems are easy born
truth and half truth
are spun night and morn!

No, she isn't a poet
cares not a bit
from her toil's sweat
my poems birth sweet

poems aren't her art
in the sun and showers
she grows from her heart
our garden's best flowers!
A tribute to the great gardener she is.
(5 years on hp this day, thanks to all my poet friends, you gifted me a rewarding journey)
 Jan 2018 Not Lauren
J
Attached
Grasping and clinging, holding too tight
I love you, so make me happy
It’s on you to make things right

Love
A nurturing hold while letting things flow
I love you, so just be happy
If that involves me, simply let me know
 Jan 2018 Not Lauren
Lady Grey
Stars
 Jan 2018 Not Lauren
Lady Grey
Stars are the world’s little nightlights
Gently twinkling
             In their own soft way,
Against the dark backdrop of the sky

Until you get closer.

Once you get closer to the stars,
They are much different

Swirling ***** of chaos and fire
Dancing waves of light and energy
Deadly and magnificent

Things to be admired
From afar
 Jan 2018 Not Lauren
S P Lowe
ADHD
 Jan 2018 Not Lauren
S P Lowe
sometimes
                                                       ­                         my
                                     ­ brain
                       doesn’t
                                                       ­     work

right
                                                ­                               and

                             my

                                              thoughts

     ­                                         scatter

               ­                                                    like
                               beads

                                     spilled
                               on
                                                              ­                 tile

floor
 Apr 2017 Not Lauren
IrieSide
Attentive eyes
    and nervous jitter,
trembling hearts
await their fate

barbaric practice
of modern acceptation
fear is faced
  in university fashion

Navy blue professor,
    of conductor hands
Giving presentations in college.
Every tear we cry
Burns away the fears inside
Our flames grow stronger
 Nov 2016 Not Lauren
blue mercury
they say sad times like these only come during changes of weather, and they blame it on your circadian rhythm. they could be right.

i just know that i don’t like sleeping anymore, because my dreams aren’t dreams, they’re visions straight out of hell. that’s where i’m going anyway, if those things they say are true. (***** little ****, let us fix you, okay? your feelings are only manifestations of the distance between you and your mother. lying is a sin, you can’t lie to god. suicide is sin, and you can't sleep your life away one day you'll awaken, until you don't.) but god, being awake is almost worse.

but there are some bright lights and, i swear, i’ve been holding onto them like my heaven and i love them so much and everything might be okay even if there are times when i can’t differentiate my sad tears from the ones triggered by joy.

maybe it’s okay to be awake, maybe one day i’ll be alright. maybe it’ll be soon. maybe, maybe, maybe, maybe...
i don't know why you all read my work and like it, but i love you guys so much **
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