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 Oct 2017 Karisa Brown
Miles
Lint
 Oct 2017 Karisa Brown
Miles
I heard a whisper of your
voice
in the empathy of
another

I excavated her
soul
for a thread of your
spirit

to hem the frayed
edges
of our torn
fabric

only to recover
lint
in the corner of my
eye
 Sep 2017 Karisa Brown
Eman
-
From the perfect distance
Even a fractured bottle
Can appear whole and beautiful
-
Exteriors.
 Sep 2017 Karisa Brown
Styles
Touch
 Sep 2017 Karisa Brown
Styles
Touched you in many ways
The feelings last for many days
Left you shaking like a page
The thoughts still amaze
Momeries come in waves
My stomach churns
as my body graves
 Sep 2017 Karisa Brown
olivia
orbit
 Sep 2017 Karisa Brown
olivia
the stars
are a way
the universe
is telling us
that beauty
can be found
in dark places
too
 Sep 2017 Karisa Brown
Star BG
One day a poet looked up to the sky and wondered...
How come we can't add letters to the alphabet?
She pondered the question asking for an  answer
from moon adrift in night sky.

The answer came swiftly. “So you wish to add a letter? Why not a whole language, as the present alphabet used has been molded with cement for minds not use to feeling by ancestors and it could use adjustments. Besides, if you just choose a letter or two unless those reader is awake to feel their meanings, it would not be understood defeating languages purpose." It said sending rays of light in breeze to hug giving poet encouragement.

With a breath an entire language emerged from the woman poet, letter for letter, sound to sound. When done she smiled, feeling the freedom of a spoken language consecrating her tittle of a true creative poetess. It was a language of love brewing in her for ages and now was free like her beating heart.

TO READ ON would mean you would have to read from heart feeling the scripted poem.
IF YOU CHOOSE NOT TO, just stop here and consider this just a fairytale.

Jalatra la love
Eamatra lastene a lonaing
letterina lo l a latea
Jalantra la love lo uquara la iva
love le love
lee lay


StarBG © 2017
Inspired by Left Foot Poet
This morning was so beautiful
I lost so much blood
April At 9:00am
It always has golden trees
The sky is too white...
I see so many lined shapes sitting
or bending
I won't sell my drawings
It loves its paintings
The color pencils are walking
The doll laughing
My hands were beautiful
I was pretty in your eyes...
My ****** does not blossom
It flew
Why shouldn't the Jasmine's
blossoms be red ?!
Their yelling is not concordat with me
I want my tears to be Eglantines
For the sun to laugh
My dance with God
Among watercolors
In my mother's ******* eyes is beautiful...
I am the same Jasmine
Yesterday in my mother's arms
And today a woman fondling your
ears by singing lullaby of her virginity
I will put a society to sleep
The wheat is sleeping with the grain field
A girl who the sun doesn't see her ******* will die
in the shining of blues
And my hands will not reach the
black hair of any man
The red beautiful Jasmine flower
doesn't belong to the freedom
I will not realize the illusion of freedom...

امروز صبحی زیبا بود
خون زیادی از من رفت
اردیبهشت
در ساعت نه صبح
همیشه درخت هایی طلایی دارد
...آسمان بی اندازه سفید است
حجم های خطی زیادی می بینم
نشسته است
یا خم می شود
طراحی هایم را نخواهم فروخت
نقاشی هایش را دوست دارد
مداد رنگی ها راه می روند
عروسک می خندد
دست هایم زیبا بود
...من در چشم های تو زیبا بودم
واژن من گل نمی کند
پرواز کرد
چرا نباید گل های یاسمن سرخ باشند !؟
فریادهایشان با من یکی نیست
اشک هایم را
گل نسترن می خواهم
تا خورشید خندیده باشد
رقص من با خدا
میان آبرنگ ها
در چشم های سیاه درشت مادرم زیباست
من همان یاسمنی هستم
که دیروز در آغوش مادرم بودم
و امروز
زنی که صدای لالایی های پرده های بکارتش را
در گوش های شما نوازش می دهد
جامعه ای را خواهم خواباند
گندم با گندم زار خوابیده است
دختری که سینه های آفتاب نخورده ای دارد
در درخشش آبی ها خواهد مرد
دست هایم به موهای مشکی مردی نخواهد رسید
گل سرخ زیبای یاسمن به آزادی تعلق ندارد
...من توهم آزادی را نخواهم فهمید
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