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 Apr 2018 Minnie
laura
first kiss
 Apr 2018 Minnie
laura
feels like putting my hand
on something sharp kinda day
invincible temporary, of course
fight the system on a february dawn

where the lamp's lambent spheres
bob in and out of existence
as the sunshine overcomes their presence

first kiss with you, like hands
dancing in the fires
trying to stay warm in the winter light
an ogre of a dream, a curse to be this shadow

compared to the glow of an angel like you
 Apr 2018 Minnie
inthewater
she reads books and she plays music
the cute, innocent
clumsy girl
with freckles on her cheeks

you like to read and listen to music
the cool, handsome
sweet-talking man
who likes freckles on her cheeks

[ or at least you said you did ]

she rolls her eyes at your compliments
the cautious, bright
guarded girl
with curiosity in her eyes

you lay them on thick
the certain, sharp
imprudent man
with hidden agendas on your lips

she lingers a little longer
in hopes of crossing your path throughout the day

she laughs at your jokes
and you know they're not funny

she sings for you in the car because
you like her voice

[ or at least you said you did ]

she's become good at excuses
the hopeful, naive
kind-hearted girl
with sureness in her words

you soak them up
the stark, ill-intentioned
vacant boy
with uncertainty in your voice

she gave all she had to care for you,
the smooth, clever
self-serving boy

you convinced her that you loved her

[ or at least you said you did ]
sweet nothings are just sweet nothings
 Apr 2018 Minnie
Mary Frances
When I write, my feelings are bare
Showing skin and colors
Stripping naked like the breezy autumn air.

When I write, I'm torn between a lot of things
Just like the innocence of a child being corrupted and tainted by what the world brings.

When I write, I feel like a warrior equipped for war
And the armor I have are pen and paper.

When I write, it feels refreshing
Just like the break of the dawn, full of hope and sun rays gleaming.

When I write, I feel closer to you in every turn
My words are full of passion and never afraid of getting burned.
 Apr 2018 Minnie
ilo
I made a Vow To the wind once.
it had no consequences
and was based off of Only Love.
i told her
"whenever it's windy,
i will always be happy."

You see
i'd just been walking,
listening to her thrash objects- around.
she made a sort of song,
and played with my hair,
much like elementary students.
except,
she has a sense of sophistication
defining her demeanor.
and to appease her
i told her i loved her
because i do.

   a
     n
       d,
in return
maybe she blows away my sorrows,
or perhaps it's all me.
follow the Capitalized brick road
 Apr 2018 Minnie
David Lessard
Poets are a common breed,
they're a dime a dozen;
my uncle was a poet,
as was my second cousin.

Some are mad romantics
some are crazy, like a loon;
they write at all the odd hours,
morning, night, and noon.

The good ones leave you gasping,
at each turn of phrase;
you envy their technique,
strive to learn their ways.

The bad ones leave you laughing,
as they offer empty blithering;
you tend to scratch your head,
is there such a word as glibbering?

But, bless them all for trying,
to say what's on their minds;
it only goes to show you
it takes all different kinds!
 Apr 2018 Minnie
Misfired
True beauty is indescribable
All you can do when faced with true beauty is stare
It is a shame when staring is considered rude
In reality when someone stares it means they are intrigued by another’s beauty
A beauty that forces you to stare
Can not be seen from the outside of one's heart
Only when a heart is on the edge of breaking can it love someone enough to stare into the meaning of breaking their heart
In turn breaking holds a beauty like no other.
 Apr 2018 Minnie
Valsa George
Far away in ancient Jerusalem
Stood a garden, long, long ago
Home to giant oaks and figs
And plants and shrubs of every kind.

On every season, from time to time
Merrily they would burst into bloom
Filling the air with fragrance sweet
And fuelling the hearts with joy and cheer.

Amid the riot of flashing shades
Where Poppies and Pansies held their heads
In a corner, there a Lily stood,
Sans scent and sans grandeur.

A poor loner never once noticed
Nor skilled to steal the show,
Those, brilliant in shade and shape
With contempt openly quipped

‘It’s such a shame
She grows among us
With such pallid shade
And nothing to rave’,

‘Lilies are such lazy lot
Giving only seasonal blooms’

Rang aloud their haughty comments
Rashly blurted out and blunt

The poor Lily wilted in shame
Wishing she had never been born.

Late that evening, through the garden
Into the newly dug up grave
A band of people came with lights
Bearing someone cut and scathed.
With blood oozing, drop by drop
From wounds, left by piercing nails

The body, carefully wrapped in linen
Was the body of Jesus - Son of God
The one who bore the sins of the world
And courted the most accursed of deaths.

The body embalmed was laid inside
And sealed with a giant block of stone
Soldiers posted to guard the tomb
And every vigil so prudently kept.

Early by dawn, three days hence
While it was still very dark
From inside the tomb had come
Rumbling sounds and a blinding light.

Flowers en masse blinked their eyes
Beheld a man, gently walking out
The wounds still fresh on his palm
And the linen that swaddled, lying behind.

As they watched this queer sight
In awful amazement, they did see
A host of Lilies, white as snow
Far more beautiful than any of them
Bowing their heads in reverential glee
And singing Hosanna to the Lord of Life.

All the flora in silent shock
Sighted from whence the Lilies came
They sprang unforeseen in those spots
Where drops of blood from his body fell

Then onwards, without fail
April sees the grandeur and grace,
Of snowy lilies - those delicate blooms
Sprouting suddenly from the crust of the Earth
Joggling their heads in whiffing breeze,
And giving delight to all who behold.
Wish all my friends a Happy Easter ! Let the resurrected Lord fill joy and peace in every heart!!
 Apr 2018 Minnie
alexa
Hello Poetry
 Apr 2018 Minnie
alexa
there are so many of you
that i would love to sit down with;
maybe over a milkshake and a plate of fries;
and just talk.
i want to ask you about the boy that hurt you,
about the anger you feel deep inside
over a father who said he’d come back...
and then didn’t.
i want to run with you through pages of words and say
“oh that’s right, what a lovely metaphor.”
i want to see all your smiling faces and
thank each and every one of you for showing me kindness,
for saving my life.
i want to collaborate on novels of poetry
and laugh with you through the tears of our pasts.
so until we sip those milkshakes and eat those fries...
thank you, to
some of the most beautiful people i have never met.
to all my HePo followers/friends/ fellow poets! you have all given me a beautiful escape from Life <3
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