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 Nov 2019 neth jones
pistachio
She is a cave, a hidden gem
Onyx-colored chambers
and shallow caverns
Her world is dim,
quiet and lonesome
Patiently waiting
for her sun to come

But the path towards her
is never easy
So people come
and leave eventually
But some are worse,
they give up halfway
As soon as struggles
come on their way

Blades of grass,
sharp and antsy
Rocky floor,
exhausting and stumbling
With predators venomous,
hiding sneakily
Will you still love a girl
with a world exasperating?

So she never bothered to mend
the hole in her heart
So  people can come in,
to create memories
And so they can leave,
whenever they want to...
If they are afraid to catch
the cave who may fall apart.


It will take a real man
to conquer her
To see the beauty
residing inside her
The flowstones, stalactites
and stalagmites breath-taking
Or the undiscovered art forms
ever alluring and enchanting.
She's a cave. She's difficult to reach. But she created a hole in her heart so people can come in and people can leave whenever they want to.
(This is a poem inspired by a limestone cave in Philippines that we visited last Monday.)  :)
 Nov 2019 neth jones
pistachio
///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
//////////////////////////////////////////////  I /////////////////////////////////////////
//////////////////////////////////////will be your ///////////////////////////////
    //////////////////////////umbrella protecting you///////////////////////////
///////////////////from the sweltering heat of sun or the///////////////////
//////////gloomy torrent cloudburst caused by anyone who/////////
////leave you in a world extinguished of candela. I will not let the////
sadness of heavens drown you and washed away your smile. I will
not let the heat of Apollo scorch you again or wither you, my lily of Nile.        Though                 you              may              left
/              /        /      /   me  /        /          /      /
               /                 /     /         in a       /      /                          /
/                 /                         dim                    /                /
/           /                    /                   spot         /                /                  /
      /              /            /             trust            /               /           /
     /             /                 / me I               /               /
/                         /                           will                /               /              /
     not
/          /                         move    /            so         /
          /           /                          you         /         can    /             /
/                     /                          find                  me                    /
     /  /      /          /         when things get  /       /
 /                      /                          tough again.    /                   /
Another attempt for a shape poem. Don't know if it's good. Have a good read though :)
 Nov 2019 neth jones
pistachio
Emerge before me
Loom figure I long to see
Hallucination
Life would
be quite
worthless and short
If this is
the only
dear life
we
have.
Great
plans just
death can abort
to be
useless
once you
met
your grave.
As for
those who
die young,
in
childhood's
tender
ages
How short
and
incomplete
life
would be
How
unfair and
unlucky if
death's
the end
for them
Besides
life to the
fullest is
eternity.
What
about
those who
born
and die
poor
or those
born deaf, blind or lame
What if
they were
so
doomed
without
any cure
How
unlucky if
resurrection never came!
But a
belief that
there's a
life
after this
could be
of great
consolation and solace
especially
to the
poor
handicapped,
the
shortlived
that they
could
make it up
under heaven's grace!
For the
good one
who is born blind,
In heaven
shall he in
brighter
vision see
And the
goodly
one yet
who
has lost his mind
will in the
afterlife
be as sane
as could be.

The deaf
man with
his balance
of pious
acts
Only the
hereafter
would
compensate
what he
lacks
And that
godly one
born poor
and who
dies poor
could be
of the
richest at
heaven's
door.

In this life
those
who've
been
saintly yet
unable to talk
could
cheer up
to believe
what
heaven
has in stock
For this
world can
be misery,
Heaven's
the place to rock
In this
world at
times
you've
to let
the hawk gawk
Knowing
your
tormentor
in
heaven
shall ye mock.

Thus for a
true happy ever after
for an
abode of mirth and laughter
Work towards thy hereafter
A divine place devoid of disaster!
O' God therefore after my death and demise
Do place me in a peaceful palatial paradise.
Profile cover pic represents my Taj mahal poem
You’re gone at last, so at last I can think.
Insulting! Humiliating, not to be able to fire back,
As you put me once more on a mental rack.
It’s no wonder that I want a drink.

But by now I want so much more than strife.
I want to scorch your villainy with shame,
To crush your “triumph” and ruin your name,
And make you watch how you poison life.

Yet I am stuck beneath your wealth,
Undone if I demur in the least.
You spring upon me, a mental carnivore’s feast.
While I resort to stealth.

My father watched your villainy from the beyond,
from the so-called “Heaven” in which you planned to meet him,
As if that will ever happen! As if he would want to see you!
Is enlightenment part of the afterlife?  You should hope so.

But since you finally let go of your empty  life,
I do not miss you, don't mourn you or feel that confusion
That people say I should, that I'd be torn with strife,
No, no! Not at all—I feel nothing at all.
 Nov 2019 neth jones
N
Bittersweet
 Nov 2019 neth jones
N
I have been buried
and grown used to
utter darkness

But I dug myself
slowly
out of my own grave  

I could finally
kiss the sun,
and taste the flowers

I hope it lasts
I hope I last
 Nov 2019 neth jones
Andrea
Stop
 Nov 2019 neth jones
Andrea
Sometimes I'd just sleep
Cause there was nothing to keep
Inside my mind
Didn't wanna die, just needed to pause
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