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 Apr 2013 mûre
Robert Herrick
Have ye beheld (with much delight)
A red rose peeping through a white?
Or else a cherry (double graced)
Within a lily? Centre placed?
Or ever marked the pretty beam
A strawberry shows half drowned in cream?
Or seen rich rubies blushing through
A pure smooth pearl, and orient too?
So like to this, nay all the rest,
Is each neat niplet of her breast.
 Apr 2013 mûre
Holly Salvatore
That rough-cut
Turquoise
Pendant pulls my eyes
Downward
I want to trace her collarbones
Delicately
Sweetly
See if she's as soft
As she seems
 Apr 2013 mûre
Holly Salvatore
In the end they're just men; they're not the products of a Disney dreamer's imagination.

And I'm a three-beer girl with tattoos, trust issues, and a heart of gold.
 Apr 2013 mûre
Tom McCone
fall through the floor of the elevator,
    held up by corkscrew works:

   here it is quiet and
           there is invisible fog and
                     the characters are dull replicas
                                                   save for the receptionist,
                                            just a lonely purple and orange
                                                     painted singular eye,
                              and her assistant, the trace.

                               when I've found someone
                                                   I feel even lonelier
                     to know how hollow they are,
           just presets and language


           and there is
                  a terrible hole
                             in the vents,
                                        or the attic,
                                                        wh­ere
                                                             ­  everything leaches out
                                                             ­                           to the colourless
                                                      ­                                                          uncreat­ed
                                                              ­                                                                 ­ nothing.
 Apr 2013 mûre
Tom McCone
you spun silk across the skyline as the frail sun
spilt, onto the far-eastern seaboard, while those
consistent clicks fell resound and washed away
down the drain behind the blanket ran to pitch
as the clamourous small hours from city centre
disband the overcast to stillnesses and grandeur
of emptied haloes, trickling with dust, so i open
my muddied lungs and laugh; for now i know i
have kept fallin' anew all along, if i think i think
i will be alright will i make it through this night?
will it be any better, in the dawn's soft light? i'm
not
                  afraid
                                             anymore,
                                                                    though.
we were star-crossed, but for one single moment:
the sky tore wide, and all inside of your ribs, the
constellations swum where once i'd only found
doubt, inside your eyes the lights played
out melodies in time, as
dawn opened up
beneath
us.
this was meant to be my kinda-take on ellen menzies' "*this is darkness, but this is love.*" (http://hellopoetry.com/poem/this-is-darkness-but-this-is-love/), mainly for the obvious line and 'cause it's such a grand piece. uhm, yeah. idk. enjoy.
 Apr 2013 mûre
Tom Orr
Coo
 Apr 2013 mûre
Tom Orr
Coo
The pigeon dove's
is my favourite sound,
the quintuple coo
not so profound
 Apr 2013 mûre
F White
Paradise
 Apr 2013 mûre
F White
they set me out here
on this island
with a fork, a spoon and a book

there was also apparently
a manual. it was lost
in the crash. my guides assured me-

a beautiful island. a bit scrubby
some wild animals, but admired by other
countries.

smoke signals will be
fine
they might not work
but of course- that's
what the book is for

in event of tigers
just use the defensive
position
words will be
enough

and if they are not
legs will suffice for
running away

did we mention
the sharks.

in the water.
please be advised.

you'll be fine though
monsoon season is only
a few months long
and it'll be over

before
you
know
it.
copyright fhw, 2013
 Apr 2013 mûre
Ghazal
Pinky Promise
 Apr 2013 mûre
Ghazal
This* big a commitment,
And this tiny an assurance!
But I guess when a guy
So tall, so tough,
Takes his finger
That too the littlest,
And with a face
So earnest,
Curls it around yours,
While making a side remark
On how easily the two "pinkies" fit,
He means to keep his promise,
Oh yes, he means it.
 Apr 2013 mûre
Kobayashi Issa
Don't worry, spiders,
I keep house
casually.
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