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 Apr 2013 Lotus
Nick Durbin
Images captioned by darkness,

My eyes closed...
Invasive thoughts -
Somber mind,
Silhouette of those lips...

Your taste on my toungue -
Our love entangled,
Us; Together...
My not so hidden message. I sleep to dream of you, and wake wishing it were true.
 Apr 2013 Lotus
Marty S Dalton
The truth has fewer blacks
and blues than the finished canvas
The truth is
I learned how to paint
So I could do your portrait
 Apr 2013 Lotus
whispertotheair
Seconds seem like ages,
But hours are so short.

Time passes slowly
But it all ends so fast

Hearts beat,
Leaves fall.

Wind blows
Shivers run.

Heart stops
Tears fall

Memories left
A ghost to recall.
 Apr 2013 Lotus
Emma N Boyer
The girl was scared of puddles
And she was scared of rain
Every time the thunder clapped
She raced back inside again

She was given beautiful umbrellas
And coats of waterproof silk
But still she sat inside
And read on the window sill

As she grew the rain poured harder
And the girl cowered away
She hid behind her mother’s back;
She never ran to play

She was afraid of what the droplets were
So she sat and watched them gather
She still refused to step outside
And so she grew ever sadder

People came along
And people quickly left
They found the girls odd cowardice;
The way she counted every breath

There came a day when it was too late
And the girl was forced outside
She was lost without her silken coats
And with no place that she could hide

The girl was chilled clean through to bone
And her shy life came to an end
In her silken coats she reached the gates
And the golden stairs she did ascend.

In God’s own home she lay down her fears
And she swore that she’d be brave.
For there there are no window sills
And no pouring rain or hate.

Saint Peter smiled and praised her,
The girl who’d been inside,
And Saint Peter whispered truthfully
As he watched the young girl cry:

“Now, girl who’s scared of puddles,
And girl who’s scared of rain,
Did you ever think that when the thunder claps
It doesn’t have to mean your pain?”

“There’s others out there, like you
Who have suffered just as much
Yet they stay strong and they pull through
And they do not lose touch.

“I’ve been here always to protect you,
And that will never change.
So when you’re scared next just think of that,
And stand to face the rain.”

You must learn to love the puddles
And embrace the freezing drops
Dance under the thunderclouds
Until the lightning stops
 Apr 2013 Lotus
Pen Lux
removing the "I" from the "Self"
is a concept that I, as myself, have difficulties understanding.
perhaps it's the culture that I live in but it seems inescapable
to use "I" as a helper for description.
To call yourself One seems no different to me than
to call yourself I.

Apart from the fact that to say, "One is hungry for flesh." There could be zombies through the miscommunication.
Rather than to say "I am hungry for flesh." You are a cannibal.


I and Ego
have roles each in their own,
but I do not believe it's egotistical to say I
when describing how you feel, no feeling lasts forever,
for feelings change just as the I changes.

To open your mind, ("your": anyone who believes that I and Ego are one)
to the idea that it's not how one describes themselves or their feelings
but perhaps how one acts off of those thoughts or feelings
and chooses to live their lives and how they treat those around them,
as well as themselves.

Ego, to me, is a behavior,
deeply rooted within your shadow,
which is cast by your soul.

Then again, such as people create their own religions,
I tend to create my own definitions for words that already have them.
and although I can have an Ego, it does not mean that my Ego is I
 Apr 2013 Lotus
Pen Lux
blanketed in white
skin. that shadow
creeps me out of
my own. it's you
that burns through
gazes, not me. I
burn through pages,
in wrinkles written
with pen. loose grip
on water, I slip into
habits a little too big
for me and it's the same
as being held as a child.
when the distance grew
as I did, my underarms
began to ache, that familiar
fear of being picked up. taller still,
I am, standing in a pit that raises
to my knee caps.

I'm often caught trying
to keep my roots warm
while my face melts.
People are interested
until the very moment
wherein you sincerely wish to convey
a concept or other idea,
but in that moment
they seem to tend
to turn a blind eye
just to 'save face'
or some ******* like that.
 Apr 2013 Lotus
Lyka
So you came back from too many days ago
from a life built of oh so precious moments.
Filling up the space that you left.
Did you make your own?

I'll take you to the pretty places inside my own head
and show you these dreamcasters weaving dreamcatchers.

Where do the ghosts go, when there are no more ghost towns
when the old one forgets...
did we even exist at all?

You're the pressure under my skin
asking
If you're water, can you drown?
 Apr 2013 Lotus
Lyka
but is it long enough?
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