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Gaby Lemin Aug 2014
I see no clouds
by my eyes,
no air be stills these
powder blue skies.
Smoke curls through
the sun scattered trees,
a whisper of bliss,
a touch of green.
A monumental grandness
disparages naivety
of a summer breeze.
I've been on holiday in Paris and during my stay I wrote a lot. This one was actually written with a friend so I can't take full credit.
Gaby Lemin Jul 2014
You're like a white, hot flash of lightning.
Burning with passion and heated desire.
  But just like a lightning strike, you never stay for long.
One flash, bursting across the sky, filling my heart with excitement,
                                                                then gone again.
And just like the lightning, you bring the thunder and the gale.
  The darkness of a thousand rumbling clouds sweeping across my sky.
       Shaking every branch of my being and rousing the rain from my eyes.
           All in one flash, bursting across the sky, filling my heart with a beautiful dread,
                then gone again.
I really do like my weather themes...
Gaby Lemin Jun 2014
Draped am I, across his chest and
with heavy hands, him firmly pressed
to me, in dark rooms; split with light.
Legs are tightened and glazed eyes, bright.
To feel his lips as they swallow my tongue,
above heaving ******* of two so young,
would be transcendent if he were mine
and eloping as lovers in heat, sublime.

A shadowed denizen writhing, elated,
under a favourable mouth falling, sedated.
Grappling, unfastened,  vivacious and soft
as against the wall pushed, and held aloft
was I as a body, so virtuous - yet carnal
and was held again with a hunger, infernal.
Again were we guilty in a frenzy so vicious
of a tantalizing ecstasy of resentment so delicious.
Gaby Lemin Jun 2014
Sitting on a motionless boat, bobbing, futile. Smoking until we are reduced  
into galactic clouds of ash, being propelled only by future and talking about poetry and poets and literature and the classics until we fall under the impression that we might just know what we're talking about.  
Willing the days to fast forward unto something more exciting when we might not even know, just yet, what exciting means. Talking about
all of the cities to which we are going to travel and smoke more cigarettes
and drink red wine when, really, we can't stomach the taste of the stuff.
Breathing shallow, through the hours, as we dream ahead of adventures and being grown up. Watching the sky fade from azure to rose to indigo as we hope with each rising and falling heartbeat that reality won't burst our bubbles and squeeze tears from our saline drenched eyes.
  Jun 2014 Gaby Lemin
mark john junor
caught in a dark romance of shadows
she said she could taste a wilderness of tears
waiting just beyond the soft candlelight
and she just couldn't face it alone again
so held her thin hand clasped in mine
while her heart thundered like madness
and we spent the hours talking ever so quiet

we lay awake under the moving darkness
we lay entwined in reassurance
we lay skin to skin
like lovers do
i drifted in and out of restless dreams
of sailing ships testing the tempest
i dreamt of gypsy's dancing in the dark wood
these dreams were a tangle of a dark romances shadows
****** you to believe that path you tread
was meant to be

her smoke filled eyes
lent favor to the idea that somewhere
deep within there burned a flame
but her voice was cool like the first kiss of autumns wind
was deep as the craft of her thoughts could devise
for she sought to weave such a tale
as to sway the heart
and repeal this dark romance
Gaby Lemin Jun 2014
A plethora of metallic chords
echo bluntly through a
hollow skull. The moonlight
burns many pallid, young
faces as they bathe in pools
of dull light.

Watching, waiting, wanting.
My breathing is shallow and
powerlessly, up here, I sit.
Like a hopeful hawk, I perch.
The shame a hawk feels when
likened to a vulture.

But I won't pick at your bones,
rolling as the Earth explodes
like fireworks. I have no
desire for dead meat, destroyed
by shells and their melancholic
tune or heart strings plucked
like a harp.

Two of you scuttle beneath me,
through the dead and the dirt
like cockroaches, burying into  
the ground.
"So long my sorry friends" says
the hawk as he swoops and
dives to catch his prey.
  May 2014 Gaby Lemin
Kurt Kanawa
endless
summer
trance of the cool breeze
careless
summer
dance of the  palm trees
you can
catch us
singing
beside
bonfires
or maybe
  surfing
the late
sunset
whilst
drinking
homemade
cocktails and listening
to the whistles of purple orchids
you can meet us by the golden shore
on sands that can't wait to get into your
toes and tell old stories about heroes
and  beautiful  women of  the land
who had hips that could rock the
molten lava out of mauna kea
you can enjoy the moment with us
leave your  worries and  your cameras
and lose yourself to the gentle swing of your
hammock and to the wishful kissing of the ocean
and to  the warm  blackness  that sings you to
sleep  to good vibrations that radiate out of
the strumming of my thumb that lullabies
the little brown child i carry in my arms
who the world named ukulele
"Like a river flows surely to the sea
Darling, so it goes some things are meant to be"
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