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  Jan 2022 Esha
Ell R
You stare blankly at the ceiling
Unwilling to rise
Everyone has abandoned you
No respite from the silence
Your heart in shards
Like the vase you dropped
Last autumn
—some things shatter—

A buzz emits from beside you
Messages of a different variety
You have been abandoned by all, but one
Hello, you have not forsaken me
The shards of heart, mend
Form a kintsugi heart
Love flowers in the cracks
—some things bloom—

Written for day 1 of @angelealowes poetry prompts: some things shatter, some things bloom
Esha Sep 2021
Baby I don't love you,
I don't miss you,
I just want you to go to hell.
You know all the lies I tell under the moon,
To save my heart from breaking,
And save me from this doom.
  Sep 2021 Esha
phil roberts
The night people seep away
Like water into soil
Neither noticed or followed by anyone
Road sweepers remove the night's detritus
Ready for the city's full awakening
When the rushing crowds shall emerge
Surging tides of humanity
Never speaking to each other
With heads down and hidden eyes
On their way to another day
Worker bees in skyscraper hives
Growing old and growing ulcers

Amidst the canyons Between these buildings
Leaning into the buffeting wind
Two young lovers are seen
Little more than children
Carrying their innocence between them
Hurrying away from here
This harsh and angry place
Believing only in each other and love
Leaving the metropolis behind
Their names are Hope and Joy
And this is no place for them

                                By Phil Roberts
  Sep 2021 Esha
we kissed for the first time behind a coffee shop.
in the haze of morning
her hand found mine
warm morning air settled on our skin

i kissed her at a stop sign in the dark.
foot on the brake,
heartbeats whispering between breaths,
“green light green light green light”

her face shrouded in warm candle light.
her hand in the water of the bath i lay in
”don’t get your sleeve wet”
*”i don’t mind”
i miss her so much. i want to see her soon.
Esha Jul 2021
A dull, cream hued bedroom with stacks of books everywhere;
Arranged in bookshelves, piled on table, tucked into bed & laid on floor.

The dampness of the nearby marsh, rides on the wind;
And through the open barred window, flows in;
The subtle smell of the sun dried clothes which was still lingering;
Was disturbed by the wind, that uninvited came in.

The room never had the sun pay a visit to her;
The only forms of sun she ever receives are sun dried objects & sun kissed lovers.

Lovers who lie bare on their undone bed;
And saturate the room with abstractions spilling out of their heads.
Pure souls, imperfect bodies with minds, oh so sultry;
They make love with words, ****** with rhyme & conceive poetry.

The walls blush a little when the young man kisses his young woman everywhere but her lips;
Gliding his lips all over her skin, kissing every freckles & slowing down on nips.

For exquisite utterances dripped from her universe & down her lips they trickle;
Getting absorbed into her boundless skin, creating another constellation of freckles.

An occasional wind peeps in, while her lover's tongue & lips get painted with her essence;
She notices this intruder & breathes it all in, while stopping abruptly mid-sentence.

He begins savoring her lips & devouring the words she haven't spoken yet;
They gulp down each other as into each other they melt.

The words which missed to escape, wait patiently for the arrival of the coming night;
But soon they get frantic, alter & behave differently in the daylight.

The room wakes from her slumber;
With the aroma of tea & scent of wilted flowers.

Everything returns to being dispassionate as the lovers part during the day;
But as the night befalls, they return to make love & fill the void in many a sensuous way.
just a dream I had
  Jul 2021 Esha
Thomas W Case
When people annoy me with their
constant complaining or their
non stop arguing, or even worse,
their illogical demands:
"For the last time, you can't buy
***** with food stamps."  Or,
"There is no way a crow took the
rent money out of your hands and
flew off with it."

What I do is close my eyes and
pretend they're squirrels chattering
in squirrel language.  
Then they don't bother me so much.
I just want to reach out and pet them,
or give them a handful of nuts.
It's not hard; half of them look
like squirrels anyway.
  Jun 2020 Esha
Goddess Rue
Heaven rained on me,
I breathed in the petrichor,
Bathed in the downpour.
I have sinned,
So destroy me,
With your rain.
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