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.....a day's, or a night's inspiration
just walks away
and escapes my mental grasp
an idea, pregnant with possibilities,
suddenly becomes infertile, like
a barren woman, or a wasteland
i try to get hold of it,
still...it glides away, falling along the
edges of my imagination.
i am bereft,
when my muse has left.
::::::::::::::

sometimes,
i eagerly dip, and wiggle my toes
on a sunny blue river that
manifests itself in my mind,
bursting with promises of new insights...
yet, a slightly curving path is hard to ignore
for, it easily presents itself......and
sometimes,
i give in to its swirls of unfulfilled
dreams, and....sublime moments,
hovering, like a hummingbird
quivering...in my own space,
there in neverlandia, where i'm left
pondering, about a life......unlived.
:::::::::::::::
my toe-dipping moments,
my rare moments of serenity,
are short-lived........ruffled,
besieged by old shadows,
because....phantoms of fear
refuse to die.
::::::::::::::::::::::

sometimes,
when treading this curved path,
unwanted, unexpected
circumstances occur,
and, all of a sudden,
my muse emerges from hiding.
inspirations bloom,
like mushrooms,
bolder,
than those that elude(d) me.
:::::::::::::::::::::::

sometimes,
it takes a while,
for love and life
to rhyme.
::::::::::::::::::::::


Sally

Copyright February 10, 2018
rrab



::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
 Feb 2018 harlon rivers
Iska
Misplaced smiles, awkward laughs,
The silence stretches on for miles.
Wandering eyes, shuffling feet,
Something's missing, incomplete.
What happened to the brighter days?
When hours seemed to slip away?
Now the seconds are more like years,
And minutes seem like eons of fears.
I miss you dearly, this I know,
But I wounder if it's you I miss,
Or something I created, romanticized,
Either way, it seems so faded,
What happened to the friendship we so effortlessly created?
I
I
The essential me.
My soul and spirit.
Never to be broken.
For I am who I am
And no-one else can live my life
But me.

No gods, emperors or kings
Can rule
Inside my head.

Sure, I can bow and scrape
To my “Superiors”,
Yet in the confines of my mind
My thoughts and feelings remain
My very own.

Inside, I have Attitude
And Assert myself fully.

You may well brainwash me
With ideology
And all manner of social-controlling stuff
But you will never eradicate
The essence
That is Me
Indeed I.

I may have little power
In this sordid world of ours,
But in the Universe of Planet Paul
I am effectively
God.

Without me,
Without my Mind,
My Id,
There would be no Life
In any place
For Me.

Without this Life
There is no World or Universe
As far as I
Am concerned.

For Me
Whatever I do not experience
Does not exist at all.

Think me selfish if you wish
Or Egocentric
Self-Centred
Call it what you will
I have to say it
As it is.

Just be grateful
That in the end
I am a loving soul.

Paul Butters

© PB 26\2\18.
Self Assertion!
.

She knows her love will never return,
so through the wind she softly calls,
her leap of faith was grace magnificent,
her ghost still walks the castle walls.
The forest below wails sylvan grief,
at the end of a life so sweetly pure,
a Springtime leaf fall marks the day,
when Lady Amarylis breathed no more.
A single rose now spends its days
beneath the walls its love displayed,
and come the wind it gently sways,
hoping to catch that faraway call,
perchance to answer with tidings sore,
The Lady Amarylis breathes no more.



© Pagan Paul (24/02/18)
.
Conclusion to poem Lady Amarylis.
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/2355525/lady-amarylis/
.
The sky burned orange, like a fire
When the sun goes then comes the darkest hour
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