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  Jun 2015 Paula Lee
Poetic T
ONE* said to TWO have you
Seen THREE, then FOUR jumped
Out and FIVE nearly fell out the
Door, SIX was laughing so hard
Because of the fright, then SEVEN
Shouted it,s EIGHT now go to bed
Good night, NINE was exited
Because it was almost TEN, then
After this all were counted, but we
Will leave it till tomorrow, and then
The number fun can start once again.
  Jun 2015 Paula Lee
Poetic T
"I have a book"
"I have a book with pages within its covers,

I wrote your life on this page,
Each one of you were only ever a one,
Never more, never less,
I scribed upon it your
Birth,
Life,
Death
Was inevitable in that moment, I took
Notes before I wrote this,
Homework was needed as I feed
Myself into your life.

"Hi I'm Paul,

It was but a step to let myself in,
A friend is trusted upon time, let close
To life's
Moment*
Beginning
Breath
That I took wasn't mine, but written on
This dried page, red was the colour
That was used, still warm from
Your depleted carcass, no longer life.
You were one of a few blessed
Into eternity's words
No room for error as only one page you had,
Perfection inked on this dried page.

"I have a book"
"I have a book with pages within its covers,

I will write this till the book is full,
And though many fill this carcass of death,
They live on in the brief descriptions of their
Birth,
Life,
Passing
They are recorded in red ink, the blood of
Life now ceased flows on this page,
I am writing a book of memoires
Of live birthed, life lived and then death.

"I licked the pages,
"I know its wrong,
"But they where salty like cracking pork,

You will be immortal in these pages,
But first is you last breath, can you see
What I'm doing keeping your mundane
Life breathing within the pages.
Your flesh is the page, your blood the ink
That tells the story beginning, middle, and your death.
  Jun 2015 Paula Lee
Poetic T
I wept at the moment
           You were faded, and
                            I thought feathers can ****,
                                              As they were weighted upon
                                                             You­r breath, and then, *stillness...
  Jun 2015 Paula Lee
Poetic T
Whisper's* into the pitch, unseen breath but no one is there,
She giggles and calls her dad silly,
Its just her imaginary friend.
A seat taken told by eyes so small, questions
Of who sat earlier as the imprint left, and
To the touch heat still bleeds outs on the palm.
Invisible,
Cloaked,
Unseen
To those  not of innocence eyes,
For youth is pliable easy to twist to the
Will of those moulding there sight.

"We played hide the breath,

Daddy was sleeping as you climbed on top,
Held his breath.
Contorting,
Grasping,
Panic
In his eyes, till breath found as you let go.
We ran into the bedroom giggling at our fun,
daddy was silent in the morning,

"Father was no fun,

"Morning precious,

I smiled as the breakfast fell on the floor,
He looked confused as I laughed out loud,

"Daddy,

"What my little lady,

"Was it fun not to breath,
"To suffocate as if in a dream,

He didn't speak, all colour left his face
Was it something I said??
A man came around,
He was all in black, with a white collar,
She didn't like him,
She hated this man as he spoke words
I didn't no, didn't understand,
My friend screamed, but only I heard.

"Daddy stop it, your hurting my friend,
"She's crying,
"Daddy,
"Daddy,
"Daddy,  

"This is for the best, your friend isn't nice,

And as never there, like a shadow seeing the light
She was gone, and all alone I was again.

"Thank you father,

"That wasn't his dad, granddad doesn't look like that,

We moved soon after that, to another new place,
In a block of homes, like a stack of rooms
That had doors,

"Hi there,

They smiled so many new friends, to play
So many to play our games upon,

"Who you talking to precious,

We had learnt our lessons from the last house.
Never tell, where would be the fun in that.

"Myself daddy,
"Just myself,

As he walked away, I looked into the hallway
Outside our door, so many new friends
Invisible to their eyes, but I was going to
Show the other children the fun, that they could
Now have, we would play with mothers fathers
See their faces as our friends played with their lives.
  Jun 2015 Paula Lee
Sally A Bayan
WET
The porch is all wet
Heaven's wrath bellows, falls wet
Pours like mad...i'm wet!

Rain, pain...keep eyes wet
Pen is fueled, drenched...too wet
Ink blots....paper's wet

Moist wind makes head wet
Wounded heart speaks... mind's soaked wet
My muse, dripping wet...




Sally


Copyright May 18, 2015
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
***...some lines to cool the mind...the past days have been soooo
      uncomfortably hot....***
  Jun 2015 Paula Lee
Poetic T
With words I am a figure of conjuring movements
My hands detail words silently they breath
Upon reality
Form
Breath  
Solidify
Upon this place of life through phrases,
I play a chess board of moves thought out,
Not in moment but in millennia's
As for each action their is a reaction that
Moves slowly or  instantaneously
Moment,
Time,
Patience
Is a virtue as my words whisper on the
Chest board of light and darkness, I
Mummer on the playing field of both,
I am the words heard in ears, like an echo
Of a thought they cognitively thought their own,
Words
Blend 
Power
And I am of neither or both.
I am of the order where words were spoken,
And hand gestured upon the air, reality its self
Bent to our thoughts,
we are what is, was, to come  to the dawn
Night shall fall and when it arises once again
We will be their to guide with the words gestured with hand.
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