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 Aug 2017 Paul Jones
Grey mirror
Words  are not just words
Words can build an empire,
Words can take you higher.
Words can instill a fatal plot.
Words can leave a soul to rot.
So be on your guard with words.

Words are meant to inspire.
Words are meant to set you free
To encourage you to take another leap,
To create with pleasant imagery.
Or turn memories into untold tale
To try again even if you had fail.

If your words will hurl retaliation
Don't, stop, think, stay silent.
They can be someone's reason
for self annihilation.
Let your words make you bold
Let your words save a soul,
Or let them put a smile
on someone's face.
*May your words be filled with grace.
May your words save a soul.
 Aug 2017 Paul Jones
Yitkbel
Oh
how I wish
you love me just as much as I love you.
But I am just burning for you
Like a candle lit lamp under the sun.
 Aug 2017 Paul Jones
Melissa S
Please sleep come to me tonight
Make my thoughts still
So maybe then I won't feel
Did I ask for too much? I think not
but nothing was exactly what I got
For he has taken my very heart
Stomped it and shred apart
This thing we call love
Feels more like a vicious cycle of pain
We love....We Hurt....We Forgive
Then it begins again
 Aug 2017 Paul Jones
Born
We go places
Chasing the world at a slower pace
With daring dreams that are bigger than palaces
Spreading romance  
In Paris and Venice


In my book I seek Solace
From drudgery and the malice
From beings with less mentality of peace
From creatures who's been reduced to a pomace


In my  book am a believer
Forever I will love God and his grace
His mercy, blessings despite my constant mess
In my uncertain destiny I found a chance

In my book I poured my pieces
When I reminisced on my scathing heart that left a big scar
When I was a prisoner of love,  torn and filled with stitches
when I dragged my soul through thorns
When I was reduced to a speck of hope
 Aug 2017 Paul Jones
PelicanDeath
the lights move
yellow along
the curves
of your face

soft voices
wait
in the rising
fall of your chest

briefly our shoulders
touch

in sleep
your hand
flutters like
a dying bird
making the most of an awkward situation.
Hang me.
By my tongue from
the Tree of Life.
                 ​Repeat to me
​                  definitions of equality.
Let injustice drip
honey from my fingers
        ​ to remind me of purity
         ​that comes.
​                             Color,
let Eve curse
and Adam condemn
       ​ no man of his.
                   ​Baptised in red of
​                   the read,
         ​bathed in consciousness:
         ​what difference
​                             looks
like.
​                    Know companion.
       ​No compassion.
Syllables strangled
sensitivity,
                 ​the rawness of
​                 Rope. Burn. Words
                            ​ask again
      ​what it looks like.
Previously published in 2014-15 San Diego Poetry Annual. For correct formatting please view that version.
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