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 Jul 2015 namii
Traveler
She believes in happy things
Invisible beings with fairy wings
Fluttery butterflies make her dance
An endless game of happenstance
Eyes of wonder, transparent soul
The world is cruel but she doesn't know...

She greets me with smiles from ear to ear
To hold her heart I solemnly swear
Gentle touch soothes the soul
In her presence I turn to gold
She holds my restless heart at bay
As she executes her innocent ways...

Her plans get lost in the making
A pouty face when she's faking
Empty cups of invisible tea
Cartoon bandages when she bleeds
Shelves filled with eyes that stare
She loves her tattered teddy bear...

Crayon drawing of sunny skies
She draws me with big wide eyes
Read me a story, she hands me a book
It's past her bedtime but she gives me that look
I tuck her in and read her asleep
And pray my love she'll always keep...
Traveler Tim Jun 30, 2015
 Jul 2015 namii
N Paul
Introduction
There they stood; keeping silent company.
Yet of His face, wept searing electricity.

To the lovers of life*
Here they stand, keeping silent company.
No utterance dealt; yet clear in both their minds
A single, brilliant truth:

He longs for her with a savage delight.
And it cries from every fibre, exalting!
It is in the bearing of his eye;
Rifling through her tender flesh
In search of what he knows, from voices ages old, is there:
That her heart will beat for no other as it beats for him right now;
That in this moment, their Souls are bared
To each other’s glares- naked, and blemished, and cowering-
Yet his eyes remain fixed and sure:

And for this, she loves him.

For they have seen each other for the First of Times,
Truly! And as with many the Ancient Laws unfurled,
They stand aware, in lack of ever being taught,
Aware with every atom, every straining tendon tight
That their time's so very short.

And so they drink… wordless
To each other, to their youth, and to their bodies
Shining like never before in the noonday air
Garbed in cloth that snaps and furls around their waists.

They imbibe with electric eyes,
Eyes that are new born to this world of light
And come out screaming, living, and sensitive
For lack of ever being touched.
They revel in their new-found joy;
Pouring from Her figure,
Of Her sleek, supple waist and the arch of her back,
Bristling with delight,
Of His strong hands and easy smile,
That spoke of laughter scattered
Across countless campfires of summers past.

Their light does burn intense as any fire,
And when their brimming anticipation
Overspills its crimson chalice
The silence shall SHATTER.
To find peace again in each other's arms.
Fumbling in sweet darkness-

Of heavy lids, of earthy flesh,
With lips embraced...

In ravenous finality.
It's only when
you are in the other room
realize how much you love her.

Stings you the pain
sinks you the gloom
the void seems impassably far.

You wish could walk back to her
cover the space  with a run
look her eyes' dying star
plant there a risen sun.

The other room chills your bone
cripples you with fear
here you are terribly alone
with the hatch shut forever.

Pause before that long distance
where love meets its doom
for hardly is a second chance
once you enter the other room.
 Jul 2015 namii
Mike Hauser
blind man standing by the side of the road

suitcase in his hand

knows too well he carries a heavy load

but can't see past its demands

cars speeding by as do people in life

not sure of where they're bound

most of the time blind leading the blind

as the world keeps heading south
 Jul 2015 namii
Mike Hauser
i'm going to need somebody
to take a hold of this notion
and put it to bed

and then i need somebody
to come over and sit
with the thoughts that are left
 Jul 2015 namii
Jeanette
Your heart,
it is light and pure and honest...
and mine,
mine is heavy
but unknowingly and oh so sweetly
you help carry the weight

And on Sunday mornings
when you awake in my bed and you smile, yawn, blink,
stretch or even just breath,
I think,

NO, wait,

I know,
I was born just to see the green of your eyes.

Your tiny hands are a compass
not because they point
or because they fit perfectly in mine
but because I will always follow them.

Let me please always be a warm bed,
a piece of peace,
a comfort.
Soft, safe and quiet and still.
Soft like my mother was;
with her hands caressing my skin
she could heal any and all wounds.

In whispers let me sing,
"I want to tell you how much I love you,"
as your lids slowly and softly cover your eyes
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