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Melissa S Dec 2019
Be nice
Help a Friend
Its not everyone’s most
Wonderful time of the year
  Dec 2019 Melissa S
patty m
Perhaps we should be displayed in art museums like oil paintings of old,
frozen unthawed, cracked and flawed and still people would come and speak in hushed tones,
and stare at the wonders hanging there,
prevented from touching while clutching to heart beauty understated,
perhaps poets too, should not be touched but venerated?

For who can foretell fate, calm warriors, cry for the dead,
compose prayers while filled with dread?
Who can woo and cajole and make us smile,
and always trudge the extra mile?

Who reads for presidents, dictators and kings,
while describing phenomenal extravagant things?  POETS!
Will we become rich, nay, but love comes swiftly, along with kisses,
as submissively our voices rise and touch the skies, in hallelujah or reprisal.
So keenly we feel, while blood runs hot, our words spill freely
and never stop, crimson and heady like the finest wine,
our implications caress, express emotion and manipulate the mind.
We create scenarios wondrously beautiful or horridly wicked as well;
bowers of velvety flowers, or flame licking bowels of hell
Still the followers bring praise and accolades, and vie for our attention,
while some turn and jab us with pointed barbs to stick in bards filling us with apprehension.
Sometimes we lose ourselves for hours, days,
in thought and deepening haze,
allaying the fright of deepest night,
for who are we should we lose the love of our fleeting, and teasing muse?

Thought unsought, words play as we prey on hearts of men
and then again, the Ave Maria, sangria, and drops of blood,
entwining hearts and limbs in hymns of praise and endless love.
Sage minds grow melancholy, tiring of folly.
should we abstain, feel pain and never write it down,
be proverbial clowns living a life turned upside down?
I'd rather be planted in the ground.  What of You?
could you give it all away?   The mainstay of life
each and every day? Are we mad, if so I'm glad
for mad is better than bland
To poets across this earth I extend my hand
strike up the band, unfold the banners saying
Aren't Poets Grand?

To our critics I say stow it,
there is nothing better than being a poet.
Melissa S Dec 2019
The enemy swarmed our gates again
around Mother's day last year.
We were unarmed and unprepared
we thought we fought them off the last time.
We thought our gates were impenetrable.
We are at full blown war now our weapons
are up and full armor is on.
We just take one day at a time
and just keep trying to figure out it's weakness.
We are trying to find out what pulls it down
just like it pulled us down.
We do not give up hope in finding this weakness
and we shut our eyes and ears to all the negativity.
The enemy we are fighting is cancer
and the gate it swarmed is our family, our sister.
We will never give up on fighting this!!!
Melissa S Aug 2019
One would think that I got
This thing called life figured out...
But that would be wrong
I’ve been in this world for 43 years
And the only thing I’ve figured out
Is I haven’t figured anything out

Sometimes I think I would just float away
If my son wasn’t holding the strings
He grounds me in a good way
With all the light that he brings

Most days I can hold it together
Other days I want to float out to sea
Would anyone miss me?
Yeah some days I am just getting by
Other days...who knows? I can just lie
  May 2019 Melissa S
patty m
Flaccid is death

like snow drifting to earth

a dearth of visions dimly illuminated,

question sanity, humanity and such

yet snow like dust

swirls and blows away

and life's imprint

soon melts

like footprints

on a snow covered day.  .

Sigh, we live, we die,

so who am I

to ponder fate

with innate lines

when the sand is

dwindling and I'm

running out of time?

  May 2019 Melissa S
There existed no switch to turn it off
No such component in a Poet's thoughts
The deepest of meditation
Is but a Poet's contemplation

Words bleed from all we see
Beauty, laughter and sorrow
Forever set poetically free
My Friends!
This is what we were meant to be!
Traveler Tim
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