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 May 2016 A Lopez
Sanjukta Nag
Through the stormy desert
Your thirst staggered for days,
And ends up sipping
Fresh experiences as consolation.
An ocean of memories inside heart
Constantly combusts like wild flames,
Yet seems so peaceful
Like the rough skin of an extinct volcano.
You believed in my words, that,
One can’t grow larger than sun,
Or be more skillful than Orion,
Weaving luminosity over
The edge of eastern horizon.
But one can be the daisy in a vase
Who dreams every night of blooming
Like a star, with shimmering aura,
Writing fates of humans,
As if she can pick them, pluck them now,
From life, whenever she wishes.
We are all like her,
Craving for a ****** dream to live with.
And in the mirror of life,
Trying to reflect it time after time.
 May 2016 A Lopez
Denel Kessler
Ten black crows
in a red-budded
cottonwood tree
basking in the eerie
glow of the waning sun
bruised, livid sky
weighted air
waves shush, shush
on the receding tide
serenity reigns
but I can feel it
hovering offshore
a curled fist
wound tight
ready to strike
 May 2016 A Lopez
Happynessa
Never trade your authenticity for approval
Always be the exception
 May 2016 A Lopez
Ja
MY RAINBOW
 May 2016 A Lopez
Ja
I stepped outside
To see the view
The sky still dark
The rain just thru

Then the sun
Burst out its rays
And they shown down
Thru all the haze

So it appeared
As if next door
The arc those blazing
Colours bore

It seemed so close
I could just reach
And with my hand
Those colours breach

And as I stood there
In the light
It was so clear
It was so bright

The air was fresh
So clean and pure
I was amazed
By its allure

My nostrils flared
My senses peaked
The moment seemed
So quite unique

But as I gazed
More clouds appeared
And then my rainbow
Disappeared
BOEMS BY JA 218
If you're ever on the riverside
where the sun beats your head
you would see the old man
selling hats of palm leaf
but you care not to notice him
having already smelled the sea
and too keen to cross the river
travel southward on the island
till the saline wind scalds your eyes
your skins itch to jump into the waves
yet the man with the palm leaf hats
would not cease to tell you
how burning would be the sun on the sands
and so badly you need to protect the head
by parting bucks that mean nothing to you
but a world to the mouths he feeds
and before you stamp on him a final no
she has one atop her hair
beneath which her eyes flutter like butterflies
her sun rouged cheeks untimely blush
and two born anew lovers
merrily head for the sea
having bought romance
for forty bucks.
 May 2016 A Lopez
Jim Timonere
the key to our situation
is surreptitiously
concealed under the doormat
where anyone who wanted in
would look…
and so, my love,
I will pretend to be
surprised I found your
key if you will pretend to be
surprised when I come home..
So, the last word of the poem, Should it be "home" or "in" or "back"?
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