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 Aug 2017 Poetry First
Àŧùl
Mum she is in the beginning,
Armed with a lot of patience,
Rhyming it with an elegant silence,
Yarn of poetry she is threading.

With all her immense patience,
In this wicked world she is happy,
Not worrying about anything,
She keeps her patience unharmed,
Leveraging her happiness on herself,
Of beautiful words she is a lady,
W**ish her I do a lot of happiness.
My HP Poem #1619
©Atul Kaushal
Hummingbird perched
atop deer fence high wire
Taking  time  to  feel
the pink cotton candy sky coalesce

Listening to crickets chirping choir
thrum the cadence of summers' closing song
The nights grown longer
as dusk drifts a slower river ebb
to the next impending dawn

The cool lushness of mirror pond's
margin greenery, draws June's bashful fawns;
Twin spotted  frolic in their dappled
shadows innocent splash and play

Evanescent white pokka dots
fleeting to another shade of tawny pale
In the blink of an eye life passes
one  day  at  a  time

The teasing scent of honey crisp red
wafts with summer breeze
Nature's  nascent  love
awaiting   impatiently
to fall free    from Eden's tree ...


*someone you used to know
dusk on the deck swing
 Aug 2017 Poetry First
Seema
It is alright, if I am not appreciated today,
I will still do my part as a daughter.
You say you hate me, and push me away,
But you forgot, my life has levelled to a quarter.

I do my best everyday and night,
Just to see you happy and smile.
You energize and flourish my day bright,
A glimpse of you I catch once in awhile.

I don't know if my efforts are going to a waste,
But I've never expected anything back.
For you, I gave up my all and didn't hesitate,
Coz you are the only light I see through the crack.

I love you and will always love you mum...

©sim
The only precious treasure I have :)
You would love me more

if you knew
the things I don't say

love me more
for the tears repressed/unseen

the thoughts that rise
yet fast sequestered,
virus quarantined,
lest infection spread

occasional
moan groan
an Ebola moon June
escapes,
inquiring ears overhear
and ask...

but quick deflected
with a
** hum,
nothing luv,
pushed back into
the hidey hole of opprobrium
and acid reflux

why why
suppress
if loving you better
the net net of it?

this is not the candy coated,
but the coal glow strife
that cannot be
quenched nor
solved with
anti-pain
meds

so put away, aside,
push back inside

you would
love me better
for the sharing,
but love me enough
for the be I be,
let my roughened edged pains,
be buried with my remains

a love unfettered
will place no obstacle
before you
from within me

love me for the man I am,
just the average man iam,
knowing that not knowing all,
not a deceit,
but a reprieve,
what I share,
strained and sleeved,
tho unrelieved,
it is relief
that burdens but,
only me
11-1-14
<)))<   <)))<  <)))< <)))<

<)))<  >(((>  <)))<  <)))<

<)))<  <)))<  <)))<  <)))<

being
different
means
going
against
the school
being
free to
think
alone
though
you're
thought an
oddball fool
at least
your mind
isn't set
in stone!

for who is
foolish but
the ones
who follow
blindly
with the tide
for their end
has e'r begun
to withdraw
to run & hide

in the crowd
they are not seen
in the shelter
of conformist streams
but who of import
has ever been
who did not
stand out like a beam?

be a lighthouse!
not a candle
almost put out
and guttering
there is nothing
you can't handle

God will give you

*roots & wings!
 Aug 2017 Poetry First
Pagan Paul
.
I see her beautiful shape
laying still and quiet in our bed,
sleeping form curled around the pillow
on which I left my scent.
But I am a self made Ghost
and I saw her cry all day.
I am a shadow and feel nothing
and I left her because I loved her.

So I died,
by my own hands,
maybe soon,
she will understand.

I never deserved her, she deserved more,
so I showed myself to the leaving door.
Inside the darkness had begun to call,
step over the edge and start to fall.

Bereft of life, she found my shell,
screamed at me from the depths of Hell.
Tears streamed in gushing torrent
expressing a grief I did not warrant.

So in the ether I pen this note,
words can no longer leave my throat.
I left my love to set her free,
I couldn't keep her bound to me.

And whilst she gazes at my picture on the shelf,
may the Universe bless her not to blame herself.


© Pagan Paul (18/08/17)
.
A Note From The Ghost of a Successful Suicide
.
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