Mara W Kayh: Favorites

Apr 2018 Mara W Kayh

Jasleen kalra

And if you are to love,
Love as the moon loves.
It doesn't steal the night,
It only unveils the beauty of the dark.

And if you are to love,
Love as the rain loves.
It doesn't wet the bodies,
It only washes the sad dirt of the souls.

And if you are to love,
Love as the wind loves.
It doesn't drift away,
It only cleanse you to the core by invading through each pore.

And if you are to love,
Love as the sun loves.
It doesn't radiates heat,
It only pours its warmth on you to enlighten your way.

And if you are to love,
Love as the star loves.
It doesn't delightfully twinkles,
It only reminds you that not even death can separate two hearts.

And so forth,
if you are to love
Love as the whole universe
& not just a part of it.

Apr 2018 Mara W Kayh

My Grandparents

Apr 2018 Mara W Kayh

Ian Lewis Copestick

My Grandparents

I miss my grandparents, they lived life their way
They wouldn't even understand life today
They would never accept benefits
Even if they were owed it
They were strong and stoic, they lived through Hell
And came out the other side doing well
The great depression, two World Wars
They lived through it, they lived through more
My grandfather was a wild one in his youth
I loved him for it, and that's the truth
The best people I've ever known
I hope that they are in Heaven, on their thrones
There's no poverty, no rationing there
No depression in Heaven, they haven't a care
Enjoying each other, now the hard times are done
Dancing together, and having fun
Yes, I miss my grandparents and their way
They just wouldn't understand life today
They were too level-headed for the way things are now
They would think that the World had gone crazy somehow
No, I'm not sure, but I think they would be right
They would not understand it, so let them sleep tight

My grandfather was so cool, in his younger days he was a hard-working, hard-living Hell raiser.

Apr 2018 Mara W Kayh

Miki

Apr 2018 Mara W Kayh

Polar

Miki

I hear the rhythmic clapping
And feel the pounding of feet on the ground
As dust swirls and dances around
While I sit facing the sun
In all her divine beauty.
Encased in the wood of the red gum tree,
I am at peace.
Burnum carves my totem outside
Surrounded by holy men,
Loved ones and ancestors.
This is my signifier and protection.
I am Miki the moon
Recently returned to my tribe
Heeding the call of the spirits.
My people mourn deeply
But know I will come again
To be at one with them,
First I must commune with the great creator
Rainbow spirit of the sky
For now is the time for dreaming.

Thank you everyone for the likes/ loves and comments, you made my day special!! :0)

Apr 2018 Mara W Kayh

tHE cAGED bIRD

Apr 2018 Mara W Kayh

Mister Granger

tHE cAGED bIRD

I know why the caged bird sings.

It's not because his song
is as vibrant
as his feathers, that he plucks away
each day because he doesn't
feel beautiful.

It's not because of the majesty
that exist in the freedom
of being able to spread his wings
though he knows
he'll never rise to the occasion.

He sings because he believes
that this cage
was made for a king
because he has never tasted
freedom with a side order of skies.

He's never flown past the sun
on a cool morning
or hung with the moon
on a warm night.

He's only ever known
the comfort of a prison
that his thoughts have
become accustomed
to calling home.

He would never venture
beyond the "welcome" mat
because what's beyond the threshold
holds no promise
the way these bars and metal locks do.

He sings because he knows
that no one is listening
so if he makes a mistake
he doesn't have to live with the regret
or embarrassment of knowing that he missed his note.

The caged bird
never believes that he's caged
because behind these walls
he's safe
and he prefers it this way.

I know why the caged bird sings.

A twist on a title by one of my favorite authors...

#cage #bird #sings #revelation

Apr 2018 Mara W Kayh

PATTERNS

Apr 2018 Mara W Kayh

Lori Jones McCaffery

PATTERNS

Where the sunlight splashes through
The barely moving branches of the Magnolia tree
It makes a fascinating pattern on the patio.
Amy Lowell wrote of patterns in a lovely, angry verse
When she was writing about how she hated war.

I bend to trace the patterns with my toe
And focus on the possibilities of now
With monster canons rolling down the boulevards
And goose-step imitators marching by
While in the stands a devilishly evil Buddha smiles.

A zephyr gently stirs the leaves
And all the patterns rearrange again
I look at them with half closed eyes
And I can’t find the symmetry
That I saw just an hour ago.

The Kraken still is held by chains
And though he gushes fire and venom
The patterns on the wall contain him
As he thrashes to replace the sun
With a new one of his own creation.

Amy walked a peaceful garden path
In dappled sunlight long ago
Creating lines that live today.
I trundle down a brick-lined walk
And hope that I will have tomorrow.
ljm

An ode to little rocket boy and Bozo

Apr 2018 Mara W Kayh

Something in my walls

Apr 2018 Mara W Kayh

Michael Robert Triska

Something in my walls

Brownies, Bogart's, or Borrowers within my halls,
pitter patter of small shoes in my dusty walls,
I hear the ranting and mumbling of his voice echoing in my rooms,
The scraping of his small tools fill me with gloom,
the knocking, pounding, and banging at night make my nightmares come to life,
so if i was you, I would plaster and grout every small hole you find about,
for it is not a good thing to have a small being running about your things,
so save your frustrations about the tiny thing and call a exterminator and do the right thing.

Copyright Michael Robert triska March 2018 this poem was for a Saint Patty's Day DND game.

#brownies #bogarts #borrowers #small #people #tiny #things

Apr 2018 Mara W Kayh

depression killed my creativity and it's going to take more than sunshine to get it back

Apr 2018 Mara W Kayh

camps

depression killed my creativity and it's going to take more than sunshine to get it back

.

i want to buy these mice a home so
that their presence helps keep the table clear
i think i’ll place it in the gap between the door and the floor
in the hopes of keeping the noise out and
of having at least one of us feel
a sense of being welcome

the paper bags in my hands wouldn’t feel
heavy if they knew where they were going maybe
and hitting my head against the bed again doesn’t stop me from
showing off the letters on my chest although
i’ve been known to miss the mark

if there's a spark in her eyes it’s 'cause she stole the light from mine
but i like the cold because it makes me feel alive

my favorite part comes around
when the two trains meet and for a second
i can catch a glimpse of everyone’s place in the world
before we’re whisked away to
our respective loneliness

or maybe it’s where the streets
run narrow like those in the places where
connection, if anything, tastes a bit more genuine
it's quite polarizing but this time i’ll seek
comfort in the grey of it until it
all comes rushing back

they say home is where the heart is so this probably still isn’t it
but it will do for now

.

[new york city] | [definition of home] | [pursuit of cold]

#newyorkcity #home #cold #belonging #creativity #depression #purpose #sunshine #comfort #loneliness

Mar 2018 Mara W Kayh

do we believe in ghosts?

Mar 2018 Mara W Kayh

Left Foot Poet

do we believe in ghosts?

at 11pm in nyc
one sees what
you need to c
what you don’t want to b
what’s c-ing you
all the aleph bets
are ghosting words in your
brown i’s and clear fingernails

then when and why
you are under the
dining room table
cause you don’t want to be
a real person
it’s so oh much easier to be
in the under, the table dark thunder,
so when until you need to be a visibility,
until then a ghost is a fine impossibility

do we believe in ghosts?
girl, you crack me up
W ooooohoooo W you who?

11:16pm
the witching wishing h our

#leftfootpoet #do #we #believe #ghosts