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 Sep 2017 Paul Jones
Cné
~
Rainbows in a sky of blue
with clouds of grey beyond,
Ripples lapping lilypads,
upon a golden pond,

Just above me and you
Blanketing our passion
As our loving ensues
The sky watches us on

A cool breeze on a summer's day,
my love within my arms,
Clouds that block the blazing sun,
a coyish smile that charms,

All these things and more I dream
when sleep mine eyes doth close,
But most of all, a peace within,
and love that always grows.

~
A collaboration with Palmer
 Sep 2017 Paul Jones
Traveler
Algorithms mapping
Trapping our lives
Programmed
To wake up
And **** in the night
Lap tops
Coffee hot
Device
In your face
Take your *** to work
   You'll feel better at play...

Yet algorithms
Can never hold
The opus of
The living soul...

The restless heart
A reverse polarity
When poetry's written
At a quarter to three

And so....
No thank you
Computer
I'm begging you please
Don't let the algorithms
  Choose the Daily!!!
Traveler Tim
Thanks for being there Dear Friends!!
 Sep 2017 Paul Jones
Kelly Rose
Poetry comes from the heart and soul
At times it is revealing
Laying bare inner most secrets
Others, it is concealing
Misleading the reader
To the truth of what is deep within
Poetry
It is truth
It is deceit
A mystery
Or just plain spoken
Poetry
Is whatever you want it to be
A song you hope captures the moment

Kelly Rose
© September 16, 2017
I read so many different and lovely poems about poetry yesterday that it inspired me ot write one as well.  Thank you for reading <3 I hope you enjoy
 Sep 2017 Paul Jones
Raven
read this slowly
in the intent to feel as though
your big toe stands on top of the highest peak
and attempt to spin
sweeping the air
and you are allowed to smile as wide as the sky above
and you may grasp the blades that make your shoulders
feeling safe,
you might feel alone.
the hands of time*
do tick on by
in the process years
passage quickly by

our clock's cogs
speedy of haste
there's not a spare
minute to waste

a youthful soul  
racing along
then into old age
comes a final gong

the hands of time
do tick on by
in the process years
passage quickly by

life's every moment
strikes a chime
until they reach
a conclusive prime

days on the rapid  
circuit decrease  
as momentum's lap
will so cease

the hands of time
do tick on by
in the process years
*passage quickly by
She has no mirror
but where flirt the leaves with the pond
she comes in the cool of noon
mixing the dark of her hair
with the summer shade
dipping into glass green water
her toes and far above
and all the pond sees
encrypts within the bubbles of rainbow
that only her clothes
swelled in awe
can read.
 Sep 2017 Paul Jones
ryn
The night was young.
The moon had traversed,
but only a minuscule fraction of the sky.

Between the stars was quiet...
And the breeze gentle.
Waves weren't angry
and they caressed the shore
with unspoken affection.

Ripples in the water took their time
riding the surface -
harnessing, carrying each piece of the moon.
Whispering to each other in a silent pact.
With plans to spread the shards of silver
as far as they could;
before gifting it to the next batch of carriers.

If the moon exploded into a million tiny pieces,
that was what it would look like -
confetti of silver and white
strewn over a large black cloth
that's gently flailing in the wind.

A spectacle of unwavering continuity...
Beauty and grandeur in such
tender unrest...
When we met,
i visualized you to be mine,
it happened with time!

Then i had,
the nightmares of losing you,
it too came true!

Believing in "the law of attraction",
i wish to get back together,
But it is violated here!!
Manifestation of LOA, Is it a myth?
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