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Sometimes, I have a strong urge to write;
One fleeting thought in my mind,
Eager to become a poem on paper.
At times, I am able to calm it down,
Save the thought for later;
But often comes the moment,
When the vessel is full,
Brimming with words,
Longing to ink the paper,
And become sentences.
I can feel the quiver of my heart
As I reach for the notebook.
The grip at the pen,
More confident and firm.
That's what happens to me,
When I sit down to write.
How about you?
**Do you feel it too?
It's the desire to write.
Oddly enough, an article on Vikas Khanna inspired me to write this.
 Jul 2017 Paul M Chafer
PJ Poesy
In war, as might be expected, gushing come veins
Soon misery is gone, it is an essence she drains
Have you heard of Suonetar, Goddess of Finnish lore?
Arteries her artillery, bringer of blood and gore

Kindness matters not, to her it is all but same
Nonchalantly she saunters, indifference her game
Give a little, get a little, splattered or gathered
Bowing to her majesty, she cannot be flattered

You will not reason with her, a succubus she is
Pray to her "Take my pain," as bleeding increases
Mopping up the battlefield, to her blood endowed
Dripping her viscosity, in ichor, she is enshroud
 Jul 2017 Paul M Chafer
Lucy
Stop in the name of love
Recall a time you were in the state of tranquility
Where life was less depressing
And compassion swallowed hatred
Where equality wasn't an idea
Rather, a way of life.
Accept people for who they are
How they treat you
Not who they love.
Stop discrimination
Stop judgement and ridicule
Stop bullying
For our sake, stop hurting one another
Stop in the name of love
Be the change you wish to see in the world.
Those emotions keeping me awake.
Eyes never closing fully.
My life isn’t complete yet.
The last piece is unknown.

Those feelings keeping me aware.
Eyes observing everything.
What am I missing?
Where am I lost at?

The puzzle I can never finish.
The emptiness I never can fill.
The feeling I can never experience.
The piece I never can have.

The light I reach for is further away from my heart.
The wind in my soul blew it out.
The storm in my head never clears up.
The flaw in my life I’ve always wondered about.

Ever since that day I fell.
That time I kept falling down.
You catched me already broken.
And left me due to my poor shape.
an unspoken word
for every hole
drilled in the core
of held beliefs

red-hot mantle
cools by degree
losing its fluidity
silver surface thin

molten river beneath
restless currents
roil and boil
mixing strata

we become
bitter metal
iron hardening
under pressure
 May 2017 Paul M Chafer
Caroline
Sunlight cresting over the wild hills,
Golden rays and green blades of grass.

Tread softly the horses hooves and
All the hawks perched in the budding trees.

Watch the first breath of morning
Tremble the sagebrush, ripple the silent creek.

Dry the dew on the daffodils and
***** the ponies’ ears. Then,

Listen! The song of the meadowlark.
The stirring of a hymn.
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