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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...
 Jun 2015 MsAmendable
niamh
One poet
 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!!!
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
Chris
~

A chill does fall this evening air
Drifting soft neath heaven’s flame
Star light flickers we may share
For love that sings its own refrain

In chorus of a calling breeze
Aloft of wooded heights so high
When nestled soft upon my knees
To stare into this painted sky

For but this light that finds me here
In distant galleries so swept
A touch that never shall let go
Forever closely to be kept

I cling to every thought I bear
Now caught so tight of passion’s flow
Found blessings that we come to share
With praises which our hearts bestow

Along a tiny twisting way
So now defined by skies above
When journeys turn our minds astray
We reach back towards illumined love

As all that time shall come to pass
When waking bells their ring is true
My deed, my destiny, my task
To send this endless love to you

And here upon this weary ground
Between the shadows now at play
I dream within affection found
*In wafting whispers sent your way
Good night beautiful.
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.
 Jun 2015 MsAmendable
niamh
Buried emotions
Breaking free
From their constraints.
Dormant thoughts
Coming alive
In pools of molten lava.
Love,
Untethered and unashamed
Shines brightly.
Fears pulled
Struggling and screaming
Into the light.
The switch was flicked
And poetry came
Like an unstoppable current,
Bringing me to life
After many many years of not writing, I came across this site & now can't seem to stop! Cathartic in the extreme!
 Jun 2015 MsAmendable
Rapunzoll
My words crawl
away into the shadows
cowering under the
echoed silence, the fear
of pasts claws.

It's a quiet place here in
the chasms of the soul,
where forlorn murmurs
of wisdom, breach the
signature of mystery.

Feeding the lands of
my mind, seeking oceans
hold, I cannot listen to
the voice of reason.

I follow you into the
woods and dancing in the
light of our dying fires
*I rise, I rise, I rise.
© copyright
~ Sylvia Plath tribute ~
 Jun 2015 MsAmendable
Traveler
Doom is my companion, he breathes me
Death is beyond my grasp, it taunts me
My love has gone missing without a trace
My spirit lost in an in-between place

Such is my pain, have I lost this game
Pictures fade, faces without names
Reality an infection growing in my brain
**** sweltering heat, I wish it would rain

This bed I have made on broken glass
Where nightmares linger, sweet dreams pass
This dread unending, this ache that dwells
I am but a ghost of a man in my own hell...
Traveler Tim
I think back to when I wrote this,
I was in a prison cell
with no idea of when I would ever be free again.

re to 03-17
 Jun 2015 MsAmendable
niamh
Gone
 Jun 2015 MsAmendable
niamh
A moment
Saturated in fear.
Heart racing
Like a herd of galloping stallions.
Hairs standing on end
Early warning sign.
Mouth dried out with cotton
Threatening to suffocate me.
A sunlit park
So suddenly full of dark corners
And darker intent.
There you sit
At the foot of a flowerbed
Oblivious to any imagined danger.
Innocence personified
Lost sight of my daughter in the park today (for 2 seconds) & it made me feel sick
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