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 Nov 2015 Keah Jones
Hong Denice
I started thinking of matters...events...people...
And end my thoughts with
"It is time to sleep".
But after you, I just stopped from getting sleepy.

It is hard,
I don't even know what the problems are now
When I close my eyes
You come
I want to leave this feeling
The feeling of hopelessness
Everytime you appear
I want to go somewhere else
Somewhere I can breath in
Fresh and rejuvenating air of nature
Stop encasing me
From the happiness and joy
I can have in life

More of the goodness please
I request
Even just for a little bit
Let me sleep with a smile
 Nov 2015 Keah Jones
Victor Shade
I opened up my world to her
I let her have it all
I showed her things she'd never see
So why'd she let me fall?

I offered her my love and soul
All the things I had
I opened up my universe
Yet why am I still sad

The reason why my heart pumps gray
And clouds have turned to lead
She planted my love in an unmarked grave
All the flowers dead
Lying* in my bed
--reading ...

It is November, I am in NYC
--25 pages later ...

I am standing on a street corner in Istanbul
Outside the Kybele Cafe, near Sultanahmet tram station
Two British men, Ethan and Dylan, are talking ...

Senses engaged.
Drinking in sights, sounds, smells of Istanbul.
As I can feel the excitement of this city.
Anticipating the story that is unfolding before me.
I am immersed, no longer in NYC.

Just then, a door slams, I am jolted back from Istanbul.
Back to my bedroom in NYC ...

How long have I been lost in this book?
In Loving Memory
Joseph Wulf
R.I.P.
  8-31-2015  
☆●♡●☆

Tonight my friend could not
breathe. Lungs ravaged from
long ago. Served our country as a
young man. Shoulders, hip n' leg
bones broke by the jungles below.

A Harley Man through
and through.
JFD's became his Corps.
Never wavered in his allegiance
to his country or his force.

One of the smartest men
I have ever known.
Could recite passages from
long ago. Abreast of topics
from far and wide
a history buff so knowlegable.

A brother to many, a father to one.
Devoted to all he loved.
A truer friend could not be had
So very popular he was!!

Joe was my protector,
as I was a wild young thing.
Was my confidant and
chaperone starting at just 17.

Accompanied first date with
my husband 30 years ago.
Gave his blessings that first night~
To my children he was Uncle Joe.

The older brother I never had.
Blessed to love him 40 years.
My whole being trembles at the
thought of losing him.
I weave Love between these tears.

☆●♡●♡●☆
~Christi Michaels~April 2015~
Copyright © 2015 Christi Michaels.
All Rights Reserved.

☆●♡●☆  Ode to Joe  ☆●♡●☆
This poem was written upon Joe
entering Hospice in April 2015.
His sisters provided
Constant Vigil and Loving Care.
Joe passed on 8-15-2015
This was read at Joes Military Burial
Fort Snelling National Cemetery
Fort Snelling, Minnesota
8-31-2015
Poem for My Joe
 Nov 2015 Keah Jones
Bo Burnham
You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen.
And I know that.

But I can't rediscover it every ******* day.
I can't return to that epiphany
every time my alarm clock goes off.
It's unnatural.

But what I can do, and do quite naturally,
is become jaded and unimpressed by it.
I can see your beauty as normal,
as one of my life's many constants.

I can climb atop its shoulders and travel about,
rolling my eyes at sunsets and rainbows,
dismissing all the beauty of the world as
less than average.

And I complain to you about it.
And you can deduce your beauty from that.
 Nov 2015 Keah Jones
Bria Grimm
I hope you never reach
The day
Where you are lost for words
Because they're tangled up in
Agony.

I hope you never reach
The point
Where your innocence of
The world is
Robbed.

I hope you choose
Your friends and
Lovers wisely
So that you never have to
Discover what it feels like
To see those who you believed
Would take a bullet for you
Dance behind the
Trigger.
I am very fortunate that this has made the daily poems! I am completely new to this site (about a week or two in) and it is truly an honor to have my work recognized. Thank you guys for supporting!
 Nov 2015 Keah Jones
Kaleb Grimes
Love isn’s hard.
Love becomes hard when it isn’t allowed to be spread.
Love becomes hard when it doesn’t get to rest.
Love becomes hard when it has to be held to a specific standard.
Love becomes hard when it is left to itself.
From my experience love is easy.
It spreads peace throughout my hectic life.
It tells me rest when I put too much work on myself.
It allows me to share my opinions when society tells me to accept others’.
It lays with me when I feel all alone in the midst of this fast paced life.
Yes, my love is easy. My love is mine.
What inspired me to write this was a poem actually by Petrarch. His expression of love being so hard for him really made me think about the love of my life. If you have any comments or suggestions please tell me. I am very very new to poetry so I need all the help I can get. Thank you!
“That dark night in the soul where it’s always 2:00 in the morning”
…Its 2:35 and I am feeling that.
There is a reason people are afraid of the dark,
The Devil lurks there.
Haunting us with lies that begin to feel real,
Because maybe they are.
Maybe they are not lies at all
But rather uncensored revelations of the truth.
The truth that we would rather tie up with a neat bow
Or simply ignore all together.
The raw slab of human flesh that Lecter slaps down on ***** plate in front of us,
that makes our stomach quiver.
And perhaps his greatest deceit is making us think they are lies.
For if they are,
There will be no need to change them because they are not real.
And they will continue to linger in our lives.
They will destroy us.
And we will point our fingers at God in blame, screaming
“WHY DIDN’T YOU SAVE US!”
Because we sit awake,
At 2:44,
Lurking in line with the Devil.
She was alone,
Positively prone to persistent poverty
Cruelty
Shown shuttering darkness as the door locked,
The light gone.
Her moms love massacred monstrous by drugs
As her heart stirred to stone
But see, she’d rather be alone.
She could die by neglect benign rather than the desired suicide
A homicide
Would cause the law to head on collide with her mom’s careless ride
And crush her from the inside.
Mental ******
As prison became her permanent reside
Why was suicide desired,
Seen brighter,
Than life?
Why was dying alone,
Locked in the never ending absence of home,
better than being with her?
She only provided horror,
Terror,
Tore her limb from limb,
Skinned her clean and hung her limp
Her body was perfectly profitable
Tasty, like prey for an animal
So mom made money, men got ******, and her spirit died brutal
Utterly dishonorable
She clung on for survival
All the while that devil on her shoulder told her to crumble
To let go and tumble
For the darkness of the depths would feel better than the bombs of this one-woman brothel
And in despair so utterly understandable her hand unbuckled
and she released.
As gravity pushed, her speed increased
Chest hit the ground, her battling lungs ceased,
Blood clung to life on the sidewalk, filling every crease.
Peering over the edge,
her mothers face was emotionally at peace
as the light of her day forever deceased.
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