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The dead lie like Rome,
Like toppled sunshine in stone,
From a boy who had blown
Into the seashell of the Forum,
Heard back in restoning, the alley of home,
The narrow, basket-flowered angiportum…
But, lips too strong, let out unknown
The stone-witherings of Medusa
And the bone dust of empire.
She painted peace over the wounded mouths twisted with lies, truths unspoken, love never claimed,
She brushed them with the pink of a newborn baby's lips

She painted peace over the hands that held weapons, fingers that had pulled triggers to **** or maul,
She scraped them green as the new shoots from blades of grass reborn in the Spring

She painted peace in the hearts of those women and men who held broken pieces filled with sadness, scarred with inner rage
She colored them red of the rose in full scent and full bloom

She painted peace on the eyes and bodies of children stripped away from their life force, their source of mother
She traced them the purest blue found in the color of water at dawn's first light

She painted peace in families torn and broken
She swept them with all the colors of the rainbow appearing just after the rain, when the light shines through with hope

She painted peace in the indigenous souls torn from their culture and land
She circled them the color of the green flash-
the flicker of pure green born after the sunsets, existing only for a second

She painted peace in the unborn and the born whose differences bring challenges to them and their families
She skimmed them with lavender fields blooming in the swirling winds, with the sounds of the bees buzzing in joy and abundance

She painted peace over the wounds, the carcasses of animals fallen in a frenzy of human greed and misunderstanding
She whisked them golden as the sun rising in its glory to begin a new day

She painted peace over the ghosts of the forests and their inhabitants
She rolled them the brightest yellow of the night sky--the first star rising-guiding us though the whispers of time steering us in the darkness

She painted peace in the waters, the rivers and oceans who were littered with the makings of man 
She glided them silver to reflect the light that is always around

She painted peace on the earth and women--places torn open and stripped, laying barren, vulnerable.  
She covered them the rich colors of terra cotta- freshly made pottery from hands who love creation

She painted the air, the unfiltered air, clogged, imbalanced
She flowed it clear, the color of innocence - when we look into the eyes of the newborn, and those just about to pass.

She painted it all,

And when the summer sun melted the colors and subjects, she molded the forms, colors, scent, textures and sounds into the shape of love as eternity.
She sang the sweetest birdsongs into the new day bringing in renewal  

She painted peace into all of life.
Sometimes I cannot fix, forgive or forget, and so I can make art and learn to how to accept and evolve. I listened to the song Imagine by John Lennon, and this song, inspired me.
You are like
a flower, loved in
a field of
landmines.

I think im digging
too deep
into your soil.
Taking a small break..

Praying it wont
harm your roots.
Praying hearts
will grow unharmed.
i remembered my current situation and this popped into my head when i saw a beautiful flower yesterday..
We could have jumped
directly off the cliff
but instead,
we're paragliding.

These winds of change
are terrifying, tough, and turbulent.
Still, our stomachs are in knots.
Still, we wonder where we'll land.
Still, we will coast,
eventually
to the bottom.

And maybe I won't be scared
of heights,
falling,
or the ground
by the time it's over.
 Jan 10 Kewayne Wadley
sofie
i can see your smile;
as the sun above the clouds,
it shines from afar
I want to see you happy, and I know that you will be one day.
Not that I care or mind, but
True love seems hard to find.
Time was...
      You found a pretty girl,
      Made her your wife,
      Took care of her,
      And were happy for life.
Couples looked out for each other,
Nowadays they just fight one another.

I remember watching my mother
Standing by my father's grave.
Tall, black-veiled and brave -
Then she suddenly collapsed,
- A column of tears.
At least she got fifteen years.
Remorse?  Maybe - of a sort.
Probably just annoyed she got caught.

----
Anon
Falling in love for the first time was pure madness,
It was a wonderful,exotic insanity,
Like climbing the Jack and the Beanstalk tree and waltzing with the stars and the moon.
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