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 Jan 2016 noel sauga
Dead lover
Become a sun,
Rise over the horizon,
So, that when you'll set forever,
People observe you with calmness,
Not the restlessness,
As in the case of,
moon.

Just a thought,
 Jan 2016 noel sauga
Winter
I hide behind a fake smile. I hide my shyness to more open to others. I hide my feelings of love. I hide my emotions so no one worried about me. I hide my dark side. I show my happy side. There is more to hide and less to show about me.
He always tried to save me
Called himself my protector
He tried to purify me

It took me a long time
To realize he tried to fix me
Because he couldn't deal
With fixing himself

He could not be his own protector
He could not save himself
And for that he blamed me
For that he carved his name
Inside of my chest.
who would read that article

a ******* ****** maniac

yes you love the unicorns

do not exist cry for this now

just the ordinary planet earth

wish to see your shoes at my door

birds fall when they are dead

what a suicide to look in your eyes

oh milord want some tea

then i remembered your smile

every song sang for us

who can stand?
 Jan 2016 noel sauga
Olivia Kent
Long claws that scratch.
And fangs that bite.
The ice descended over night.
Clear of clouds.
A sky that's bright.
Jack frost's paint brush.
Out in force.
Planetary alignment.
Pretty rare.
Blazing skies.
Eating fries.
Discarded ones.
Half eaten burgers.
Keeping warm.
Feeling for the homeless ones.
Waiting for the climbing sun.
In my thoughts.
In my mind
I'm indoors.
Guess what I find.
Warmth and coffee.
A cosy duvet.
So very lucky.
(c)LIVVI
 Jan 2016 noel sauga
Bianca Reyes
I bury my face in the pillow
While the pillow smothers my dreams
And my dreams devour my heart
But none of this can be seen
When it's covered by my sheets
Shared on Hello Poetry on January 20, 2016. Copywrite under Bianca Reyes.
I call it bad poetry.
Sometimes it's just stacked lines.
Sometimes it's banal and trite.
I break the academic rules
and write songs to be sung by fools.
Maybe I don't suffer enough
to write about tragedy and love.
I call it bad poetry.
Maybe I'm out of touch.
There is such a thing as too much subtlety,
maybe not enough,
or maybe I impress myself too much.
Maybe I'm insecure and out to lunch
and, although I want the world to hear,
I try to beat the critic to the punch.
I call it bad poetry
manic rudimentary ramblings
of a man child with poetic constipation
and stuck in a quatrain rut.
This feeling is nagging
Is it a love song, or self indulgent bragging?
Set a rhyme up here and there.
words are words and there is plenty to spare.
Mind is racing-  feet are dragging
Just one more rhyme will get me there.
Then freestyle for a while
with that smug self satisfied smile,
and write some more bad poetry.
I just want to say hello. I don't know much about this site.  There are icons that I don't know the meaning of, so this is my hello to everybody.
This morning walking by the sea
Seen a lady, eyes closed
Lonely, lowly, desperate
Soignée but very thoughtful
I got out of there
Afraid of she discerns me
 Jan 2016 noel sauga
Arvie G
WORN
 Jan 2016 noel sauga
Arvie G
over the years,
i've collected images
of various escapades
all thrown away
when they thought
no one was looking.

i've listened to cries
hiding beneath their
ringing laughters
and tucked those tears
away in clear bottles
for safekeeping.

i've helped mend
battered hearts
& fractured souls,
then whispered comforts
about dreams & hopes.


i have done all those and more.


and now,

i want to know
if a song can rise from
the ashes of a broken life.
Prompt: personify a gardening tool. I chose "hands". Title inspired by one of the songs of Tenth Avenue North.
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