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 Jan 2014 Leks
Riley Ayres
Crystallised syllables.
Words fall from harsh tainted lips,
like a syllable of crystallised black,
Caressed at the touch of fingertips,
encouragement seems to lack.

A heart of steel encased within,
the shattered depicted glass,
I pray that you forgive my sin,
End this forever song fast.

Your life is plainly satisfactory,
demeaning in all you do,
waterfalls of crimson refractory
broken, diminished, by you.

Wicked and nocturnal eyes,
return your weary gaze,
reflections hard to visualise,
incentives gone for days.

Leave emotion to drown itself,
in this scarlet river abyss,
place your feelings on the shelf,
and give me one last kiss…
 Jan 2014 Leks
mini radebe
plead
 Jan 2014 Leks
mini radebe
Please don't get sick of me
The love that we give to one another should only be allowed to grow
Please don't let go of me
Your fingertips move in the motion of healing
Please don't turn your back on me
For your scent will leave with you and I will find it hard to breathe
Please don't stop loving me
No one can ever make my name sound any sweeter
 Jan 2014 Leks
Nick M
you and I
 Jan 2014 Leks
Nick M
you and I,
ran quick as we lived in the moment and not the past,
our laughter echoed as our hearts pounded fast,
and so we indulged, we lived in the present
no time to care, but I didn't regret it
nothing but us and that moonlit sky
careless, we were just
you and I
 Jan 2014 Leks
Kylie Wallen
We'll have that young love




Even when we're old
 Jan 2014 Leks
Pablo Neruda
Drunk as drunk on turpentine
From your open kisses,
Your wet body wedged
Between my wet body and the strake
Of our boat that is made of flowers,
Feasted, we guide it - our fingers
Like tallows adorned with yellow metal -
Over the sky's hot rim,
The day's last breath in our sails.

Pinned by the sun between solstice
And equinox, drowsy and tangled together
We drifted for months and woke
With the bitter taste of land on our lips,
Eyelids all sticky, and we longed for lime
And the sound of a rope
Lowering a bucket down its well. Then,
We came by night to the Fortunate Isles,
And lay like fish
Under the net of our kisses.
 Jan 2014 Leks
Farai Engelbrecht
The first time you
Said hello,
I didn't know whether
To freeze at the fact
That you were acknowledging my existence
Or to freeze at the ******* fact
That YOU were acknowledging my existence.

She was a writer
and I fall inlove **** easily.
Her metaphors, similes, sonnets
on Sunday mornings.
but she never
wrote about me

"I loved you (past tense)
but you never quite loved me"

Concrete would crack
and grow  old before
you ever admitted that you needed me
and at the time I didn't think
much of it
Because my mind
Was 3 years ahead,
contemplating on which
apartment we should call
"Ours",
but  I should've seen the signs
and listened to my fragile
but accurate heart.
I chose not to,
Because who would?

(Nothing good ever comes
from listening to the voice
Inside your chest)

This poem is about you,
but it is also not about you.
Because if I leave you under
the impression that it's meant for
somebody else,
I might be able to salvage
my barley-breathing pride

Or I could swallow it.
In hopes that it doesn't claw it's
Way out of my mouth
And whisper the words
'I still love you'

That would be awful.
 Jan 2014 Leks
Angel Chester
A long day
Day of thoughts
Thoughts of life
Life so dull
Dull and boring
Boring and stressful
Stressful on me
Me being the only
Only, as it seems
Seems to only hurt
When I'm alone
Alone with my mind
Mind raging with anger
Anger that keeps growing
growing but never showing
Showing a smile
Smile to hide the hurt
Hurt i try to ignore
Ignore it i tell myself
Myself never listens
listens only to my mind
Mind my pain its all i know
Know no happiness
Happiness i crave
Crave and need
Need to be me
 Jan 2014 Leks
M
Instinctual
 Jan 2014 Leks
M
I think it speaks volumes that in my half-awake, half-asleep, drowsy state sometime before the sun came up, I instinctively yet firmly planted my lips on whatever part of you was closest to me. It was your shoulder blade, or maybe the back of your neck. I know I woke up and it was the first thing I thought of, and I gripped you close and kissed you hard. For me, it says a lot that you rolled over and held me back in response. We fell back asleep after that, your arm draped over my waist and your breath on my neck.

You could buy me flowers or take me on dates or tell me I'm beautiful and do all of those cliché yet considerate things. I won't think any less of them, and I promise I'll do the same for you. But you can't buy me an instinctual embrace. It was something I just did, and it was something you just did in response. I over analyze a lot, but it meant something for me.

It felt different than flowers and dates and hearing I'm beautiful. It felt safe, it felt like reciprocation. It felt like a simple embrace that simply meant I was in your arms, but I know it's a bit more than that. You may have simply rolled over and wrapped me up in your arms but it wasn't forced or planned or expected like dates and flowers may be. It was natural. Sometimes that's what feeling for someone is, going for it and hoping someone feels for you too. It's knowing that kissing someone is a shot in the dark and you may or may not get kissed back, but you go for it anyway. Sometimes, and hopefully, feeling for someone is natural and easy though telling them may not be.

So rolling over and kissing you was one thing. It was another that you responded. You don't know it, but a hand across my waist and your breath on my neck meant more than the other gestures because this one came to you as easily as blinking or breathing. It was simple like you and insightful like me. It meant that in your half-asleep, half-awake state there was enough instinct to hold me and the simple notion that you did so meant that we share some common ground, as uncommon as that may be; sometimes we wake up wanting to be close to each other, and that's enough for me.
 Jan 2014 Leks
Nat Lipstadt
Let us not keep our secret,
secret any more!

Thousands have read your poem,
from your tributary, they have drunk.

So I am re posting once more
to remind grandmother,
so many
you,
adore.

I will not stop
till ten
thousand new admirers
have you paid homage.
then I will
              post it again.


~~~~~~
Oct 6, 2013
The Banyan Tree (A Tribute to Sally)
I am a man, grandfather to four.
Adherent to the same religion,
Poetry.

Breathing through mine eyes,
Exhaling carbon words,
That with time and pressure become
Poems, verbal musical notes upon life.

Each motion, from tiny to grand,
A capsule of expression,
That if examined under microscope,
Familial DNA, interconnected tissue,
Discovered, tho logic says,  
Time and distance render impossible.

But this is a diamond
This is a writ to be slipped
Upon the finger, the heart, the essence,
Of the only Banyan tree I have hugged.

This poem but a fig,
In the cracks of kindness,
The crevices of caring,
It has slow germinated.

You dear, Sally,
My host,
A building upon I can lean,
When wearied spirits uproot
My surficial composure.

Your seeds carried from east to west,
By a fig wasp, a bird unknown,
An ocean voyager, of indisputable vision, strength.

This seeded messenger, word carrier,
Supplanted in me, and your pupils,
Whose very names breathe poems,
In others too, like me and so many,
Seeds to become new roots, but you,
Our Host official and forever
Planter of trees of loving kindness.

You already know with love and affection,
I call you Grandma Sally,
And when you ask, beseech,
I cannot refuse.

Together we will will banish the sad,
Acknowledge we, that life's ocean,
A mixture of many, even sad, a necessity.

But I promise that will turn it into
Something simple, something good.
For you have asked and I answer you
Right here right now - your wish,
My objective, deep rooted like you,
Like an old banyan tree,
Your roots spread far, spread wide.

So some eve, when to the beach, to the sky
You glance, smile, no matter what, troubles dispersed,
For the reflection of you, seeds, full fledged trees now,
Bending skywards, in search of your rays of expression,
Your maternal wisdom rooted, spread so wide, globally,
All over this Earth, is visible from your
Beloved Philippines.


---------------------------------------
In her own words..

I am a widow,
with five remarkable granddaughters....
all beautiful, intelligent girls.
It is such a waste not to write....
each morning that unfolds is filled
with things to write about....
the people, the birds,
the trees, the wind,
the seas,
everything we set our eyes on,
they are all
poetry in motion.
Life itself is poetry,
I always have pen and paper within reach.
My past experiences are a
never-ending source
of ideas and words for my poems....
I shall write until time permits me,
"til there's breath within me."
-------------------------------------------------
A banyan (also banian) is a fig that starts its life as an epiphyte (a plant growing on another plant) when its seeds germinate in the cracks and crevices on a host tree (or on structures like buildings and bridges). "Banyan" often refers specifically to the Indian banyan or Ficus benghalensis, the national tree of India,[1] though the term has been generalized to include all figs that share a characteristic life cycle...
Like other fig species (which includes the common edible fig Ficus carica), banyans have unique fruit structures and are dependent on fig wasps for reproduction. The seeds of banyans are dispersed by fruit-eating birds. The seeds germinate and send down roots towards the ground.

The leaves of the banyan tree are large, leathery, glossy green and elliptical in shape. Like most fig-trees, the leaf bud is covered by two large scales. As the leaf develops the scales fall. Young leaves have an attractive reddish tinge.[6]

Older banyan trees are characterized by their aerial prop roots that grow into thick woody trunks which, with age, can become indistinguishable from the main trunk. The original support tree can sometimes die, so that the banyan becomes a "columnar tree" with a hollow central core. Old trees can spread out laterally using these prop roots to cover a wide area.
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