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 Sep 2017 Mudassir PZ
Emily B
when I began to write
poetry
all those years ago

I was amazed to find
that I even
had a voice.

It was a gift
that I never
hoped for.

I only shared light.

There is too much
darkness.

And then
little by little
I had to write
about the monsters
in the deep.

And my writing
got to be
unrecognizable.

Those couldn't be
my words.

Don't bury me
in a grave
in a big old box
I've known too much
darkness.

And so here I am
trying to balance
injury
with hope for a new future

That may be called
healing.
 Sep 2017 Mudassir PZ
Cné
Contemplate a teardrop,
and this is what I see.
A drop of moisture
from an irritation?
Some agree.

What is a teardrop made of,
just some water from a gland?
But brush it off and contemplate
the moisture on your hand.

It's also made of sorrow
or from pain that you may feel
A treasure of emotion
on your cheek
that might congeal

"Tears of happiness" are made
of joy or great suprise
That fall like rain in summer
from a pair of smiling eyes.

They course down cheeks in rivers
or collect on lashes there.
They form in silent puddles
when emotions are laid bare.

Tears are gems as precious
as a diamond that is mined
So do not take them lightly
if their origins you can't find.

They're made of things like music
that can make the heart take wing
Or how the soul can elevate
to hear an angel sing.
Just thinking
Inspired
 Sep 2017 Mudassir PZ
Alice
'The sun loved
the moon so much
that he died
every night
to let her breathe.'

the beautiful forbidden lovers
never able to meet
to share warm kisses

but I remember the sneaky Moon
she sneaks out of her dark domain
I see her in bright daylight
swathed in the Sun's golden touch
opposite in the sky
they watch each other
with love so pure

although she is forbidden
in his bright domain
she is there
because she believes
that nothing is impossible

and the day comes
when they can meet
for but a few minutes
they embrace in fire
and we stare in wonder
as they meet
but then they must
drift apart
with broken hearts

she blows him kisses
whispers
'goodnight, my love'
as he sinks beneath the horizon
bursting into colors
and the Moon cries
and whispers
⠀⠀
'I love you.'❋
To: the long awaited Eclipse.
 Aug 2017 Mudassir PZ
MeanAileen
***** *** and cigarettes
bad decisions, no regrets.
Painted lips and fingertips
lace, leather, gags and whips.
Cheap motels, steamy nights
sweaty flesh and candlelights.
Pushing limits, breaking rules
naked dips in swimming pools.
Getting high while living low
riding rails, pure white snow.
Playing games & telling lies
the look of lust in lovers eyes.
Rendevouz in seedy places
sloppy kisses, hot embraces.
Ménage à trios, or even four!
Anything goes behind locked door...
Shots of Jack make it all alright-
just another dirt-bag night.
50% fiction...
 Aug 2017 Mudassir PZ
Melissa S
If someone pulled me from the inside out
Would they still like what they see?
Such things I hide behind
Are not always with intent to deceive
Do I have an intriguing mind?
Or better yet...
Do I have a beautiful heart?
Shouldn't these be the most important parts
I wear masks to disguise the pain
Underneath a river of lies fall down like rain
Should this river of lies drown me?
Or does it just make me grow
a thicker shell for all to see
Inspired by a poem by patty m
poem https://hellopoetry.com/poem/2093422/i/
Also inspired by comments from the Traveling man himself

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