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How come written words are different to people then hearing them? Maybe a word wrote has more meanings then a word spoke, like a paintings worth a 1000 words, would it be safe to say a word is worth a thousand paintings? Depending the perspective of who's reading these words
but a word stands alone, A word is jus a word untill it's added with others, then it's something more,
there's a purpose why they're together and many reasons depending how it's used
from good to bad, love and hate,
to happy and sad to the poetry it can create
words they say can even make a man great,
that's just a few words written from history like them words too are a mystery
some words are honest and stand in front of the spoken but back up every broken promise
from the words that are formed with a single letter, all I know is words are clever because words last forever...
MsAmendable Jun 2015
The moon pours night into the sky
Dripping out a curtain of icy stars,
Inking over the drawing of day
Sliding over the silver leaves
Creeping along the corners
Trailing wet black smears
Filling puddles with tar,
Choking out the light
Until, at last, it's night.
MsAmendable Jun 2015
Golden sunsets glow
Slanting through your windows, cold
Lighting dust into lazy snow
Drifting, drifting slow
The blaze first to go
Then fiery Amber toes
Paint red skies bold
Then before the story is told
The colour away is blown
And melts into summer nights.
  Jun 2015 MsAmendable
niamh
If I could write
Like you
I would have
Kings at
My feet
And would
Rule the world
With my tongue
For all the poets (unnamed) whose poetry just astounds me!!!
  Jun 2015 MsAmendable
Cori MacNaughton
No More But Skin and Fur and Bones
The sea lion’s eyes were glazed in pain
The morning after the storm alone
I sit with him in drizzling rain

Our rocky shore, its raging depths
Provide the stark reminder
For tiny souls twixt life and death
That death is oft the kinder

Cori MacNaughton
23Mar2000
This poem was inspired by an incident when I was in college, and involved as a member of a volunteer marine mammal stranding network, run by WhaleWatch in partnership with Marineland of the Pacific in Palos Verdes.  I lived near the beach in Santa Monica, and when one morning after a bad storm a friend and I were called out on the report of a stranded dolphin nearby, we met in the closest parking lot and began our search.  

We never did find the dolphin, but we did find an emaciated baby sea lion, orphaned or abandoned by its mother, which was very weak and near death.  I sat on the beach with its head on my lap while my friend searched for a phone from which to call the California Department of Fish and Game.  It was sad that it had to be put down, but as it was clearly suffering, it was also the kindest thing to do.

I shared this poem with my meditation group shortly after writing it.  This is the first time it appears in print.
  Jun 2015 MsAmendable
Miranda Renea
It's when the sun shines
Through the trees and
Everything seems as if;
We dread death as if;
Where the light does
Touch is magick, but
We must never forget
The spaces in between
Are forever the reason
We have even seen.
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