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 Apr 2014 Mi
ASB
lost in translation
 Apr 2014 Mi
ASB
you talked to me in sonnets
or metaphysical poetry --
you said it all, in little words.
I was never any good at it,
unable to describe you in
only 14 lines, unable to
describe you even in novels.
writing about love is like
translating Shakespeare --
the subtleties are always
lost -- and in my many
inadequate attempts to
put you on paper, I've
never managed to make
you understand what
happens to my heart
each time you smile.
 Apr 2014 Mi
Seán Mac Falls
My memories burn  .  .  .
Red rose lighted by the moon,
  .  .  .  Cold funeral pyre.
 Apr 2014 Mi
mark john junor
her pale face in the warm night
like medieval dark princess lips so bright
lure the sailor with her desperate charms
****** the heart with her eyes

the scents of the seven seas wash over me
all the traveling done to see a higher place to be
when it was right here infront of me
her thin pale lips pressed against mine
she whispers a plea
not to follow the wild things into the night
not to stand unfriended under the church of the skies
naked to the cold rain
to stay here in her warm arms
quickening under the spell of her devices

the chipped tiles cold
bucket of brine
sits by the door
has no shadow has no rhyme
it is salty for a dog of the sea
lick his haunches with thin lip grin
the tallyman count but the water rapping on the hull distracts
let us in the waves call to you
let us wash your spirit and teach you to float in the deep
the water is cool on your fevered brow

and since the words fled your pen
there is so little to do
but listen to the waves rapping on the hull
on the beaten weather burned white paint of the wood hull
its peeling and rot shows
the waves call out to you
let us in
we will teach you to ride the deep ocean rivers
teach you to see
the tallyman count one two three
the tallyman know good one from bad
toss you back to the sea
you no good
you go back to the god that made you
 Apr 2014 Mi
Theia Gwen
I have such high aspirations
But I feel so low
Tell me, can I live a happy life
Without giving up my soul?

And none of my dreams
Are grounded in reality
Why should I pay thousands
To be who I want to be?

I'm not too proud of my address
Daddy can't buy me every pretty thing
I'm just a girl in the lower middle class
In a world where money is king
I really want to get a PhD in Psychology and become a therapist when I grow up, but I'm terrified I won't have the money and will have to compensate my dreams.
 Apr 2014 Mi
Theia Gwen
I told you over the phone
That you were as beautiful
As the stars that dotted the sky
But you lived in a big, bright city
And could only see a few dozen
While I could see thousands
You couldn't know the half of it
So I told you over the phone
That you were as beautiful
As the stars in your new lover's eyes
And you finally understood
"Normally, about 2,500 individual stars are visible to the human eye without using any special equipment. But because of light pollution, you actually see just 200 to 300 from today’s suburbs, and fewer than a dozen from a typical city." How sad is that?
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