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Words belong to everyone
but you could put some together
in the order that you wish
like no one else could
and they become yours

Words belong to everyone
these mystical, magical things
they can be twisted and turned
to the way your tongue talks
and they are your own

Words belong to everyone
*but some of them are mine
I've always found it amusing how a group of words can be put together by a person the way that nobody else would be able to and that just becomes *their* way- and then those words in that sequence become theirs.

.
I miss the way your fingertips
drew circles on my almond skin.
I miss wrapping your hair around
my finger like a phone cord
when I watched you sleep beside
me.

Now that I have your attention…

My issue’s not with the lost loves
but with the ones still holding on.
Because of you, pain is a cliché.
Human emotion has become
redundant. The only thing
that’s #depressing about
your life is how you’ve made
a conscious decision to relive
your “hells” constantly by making
them the focus of your poetry.
I know poetry is a window to the soul, and this is a look into mine recently. I may get a lot of hate for this, but I feel like it has to be said. It's rare that I scroll through the trending poems and favorite any because they're all about missing someone. I get it, people miss people. But there's no originality in how people present it. And I feel badly for those whose ORIGINAL work goes unnoticed. I'd like to think I have a valid point. Maybe I don't. Regardless, this has been on my mind a lot lately.
Ashes to ashes and dust to dust
Call this assurance if you must;
But when it's time to say Farewell
To one you love, it's just plain hell.

There are no words, no healing balm,
To fill the void, to ease the calm;
And not a thing that one can say
Will drive the quick hot tears away.

We look upon the empty chair
And seek the one no longer there;
And so heartbreaking is the pain
We question if we'll meet again.

How grim indeed, if death should be
The Bitter End--- Eternity;
Just some vague dream conceived by Man
And not a part of any plan.

But God has taken such great care
To note the sparrow in the air;
His Love alone can cover all
And Mark a simple Sparrows' fall.

And if he cares for the birds that fly,
then he must hear My Anguished cry;
"Dear God, I yield my grief to Thee
For Thou alone can comfort me."
To Everyone who is struggling with Grief
Would I want to be anywhere else right now?
No, probably not
The title says it all. Serenity
Sat here on a little wooden bench, just me
Oh, and ducks, geese, squirrels,  countless birds
The real beauty is that they don't curse, yell, hurl abuse
Yeah, I see the odd squabble over something as trivial as a piece of pond ****
But nothing malicious in it, it's just their way
It's not just the birds and animals here
It's the peace, the chance when for a few minutes, an hour maybe you can shut out the world and all its problems
This is how it should be
How it should always have been
Bird songs, the wind rustling in the leaves
What composer dead or alive could have written music so beautiful
As the afternoon sun filters through the canopy of green
The rustling moving leaves paint an ever changing picture
A picture that will never see a gallery nor grace the wall of a stately home
But still a picture with grace and flow in shades of gold and green
Yes truly this is
Serenity
 Jul 2014 Dad Poet Society
nivek
create something
not for applause
nor for gain
just do it
 Jul 2014 Dad Poet Society
nivek
very often a bird will fly simply because it can
were not like that
we need grace from outside ourselves to fly
minds and hearts lift off and out of themselves
 Jul 2014 Dad Poet Society
nivek
you have to be humble
an honest confession
before you can be lifted
 Jul 2014 Dad Poet Society
nivek
if you think you have reached the heights
think again
summits are often cloudy
Words said to one
But different to another,
Words slither between each other
Disrespect,
Disloyal,
Poisonous,
Back stabbing those and others.
Twisted words, confusion rains
Praised for one,
A beating of self esteem to the other.
Words said in in different ways
But contradict
To each other,
Alright for one, but not the other
There was two faces hidden in one,
But they blend to each other
Now they are one.
 Jun 2014 Dad Poet Society
Ruthie
I've been thinking.
I've had my sights set on that one target for so long and nothing seems to be happening.
I just can't seem to get my aim right.
But then I meet you.
And you're a much easier target to hit.
Even if you're not what I was expecting,
Taking my eye off my goal for that split second gave me the best opportunity.
To meet you.
So just remember..
When you've your sights set on something..
Don't forget to take a break and look around.
Because you never know what opportunity you're missing out on...
It's scary how I could have passed right by you.........
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