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Hair grown white

brushed straight away

Gnarled spine

Shoulders unsquared

Padded stool

Red leather tome

Pencil scars

Yellowed borders

Crooked finger

Brittle leaves

Blurred mass

Rimless descent

Old friend

Immersion

Comfort alights
A world with people having the same personality and style,
Where everybody is a copy of the other,
We all have the same smile,
And just want to compete with each other..

Competition can be motivational,
But sometimes a killer.
Competing with yourself is ideal because there is no other you,theres just you so the only one you can make better is your self by ensuring you are better than you were yesterday.


Be an individual,
You are like a colour in a piece of art..
Without you its incomplete.
Imagine the world as a piece of art,
Everyone offering a different kind of beauty,
Don't change yourself for anyone,you are you and you deserve to live as you!
Be yourself.
 Mar 2017 Robert Andrews
xoK
You should know,
She has the most amazing brown eyes.
Look into them as often as she will let you.
They look like the surface of another planet.
Swim deep in them.
Climb their mountains.
Explore their caverns.
If you look too long she gets uncomfortable.
I did it anyway.
Frequently.
I’ve read that
You won’t understand brown eyes until you fall in love with someone
Who has them.
I’m living proof that this is true.

Don’t play with her head.
It’s cruel and it will damage her more than you know.
Don’t forget to learn her.
It takes time and patience, and you will never be finished.
Don’t lay a harsh hand on her,
Or I will find you.
Don’t break her heart.
Because if you do, I’m afraid I might be too far away to pick up the pieces.
But most of all:
Show her love.
Show her more than I could.
Show her all that she deserves.

Lastly,
Even though I hate when my brain reminds me
You now sleep on my side of the bed,
I feel the need to thank you
For taking my place.
If she can’t live her best life with me,
I sure as hell hope she gets to do it alongside someone else.
Just when I thought I was done writing poems about her.
 Mar 2017 Robert Andrews
Rianna
I was your flower but
seasons passed,
we grew apart
and now Your flower has wilted,
But I have grown.
Probably gonna delete this
Take this flat, round, stone
I told my son, and daughter too
Throw it hard, spinning it
Across the stilled pond
Count your big splashes
Watch the ripples grow

First stones they threw
Only singular sets of ripples
Then two, then three, then more
Eventually, their stones, with mine
Easily reached the other shore
Splashes, into ripples galore

Ripples formed by casted rocks
Have they lasting print upon
Hearts of those I've loved
Standing now on faraway shores
Gleefully leaping, dancing, tossing
Skipping stones hid in their pockets

Are my stones, living on in ripples
Marked indelible in memories
Cast in mind's marble and stone
A forever legacy or merely
A dimly lit fading thought
In minds and hearts forlorn

Once, when I was young
I knew, I could ripple the world
Now, I only hope a weary rest  
To lay burden upon the shore
Enfeebled arm, for slinging stones
Pond's winter death, comes nigh

A bit of time left, of sweet life
To cast a few more stones
Boulders, to toss into the river
Giving the biggest splash
Heavy to lift, except with help
From other believers in ripples

©  2017 Jim Davis
Ok, fellow believers, here is my pitiful effort following my recently posted short stanza "Ripples".  Playing with the word "ripple" and  thinking about the idea of the "butterfly effect'.  Keep believing!  "I alone cannot change the world, but I can cast a stone across the water to create many ripples." -Mother Teresa
 Mar 2017 Robert Andrews
Cné
naked
 Mar 2017 Robert Andrews
Cné
i am naked
and been exposed
i deserve it
i suppose
pretending
at mending
a broken-ness
and making
such a mess
of things
among an audience
never once
thinking
of the pain
i'd be bringing
of a secret
i behold
i regret
i never told
the tears
i cry
i, now
disguise
failing
to realize
my character
being
compromised
Do you ever have one of those dreams where you find yourself in public literally naked with failed attempts at hiding? ... Nothing like starting my day with anxiety.
I feel that there are times
when I could reach out my hand
and touch my own death.
This causes me no regret or fear
for I have lived in my own way-
Godless and lawless but
with a belief in knowing
what's right and wrong.
So, as my ghostdom awaits me
I shall not tremble in my shoes
I'll greet him with a wink
and my best angelic smile

                                      By Phil Roberts
 Mar 2017 Robert Andrews
V
The biggest mistake you can ever make is to walk away from the person who stood and waited for you.
To the people in my life who both walked away and to those who stayed-for many years.
Tribute to a much missed poet-friend.

Like a shuttle in lace-makers' fingers
the thread has flown, the bubble burst.
Time ended when sand that had lingered
trickled too fast as the hourglass upturned.

Like a ripple moving its last on the lake
the song is sung, the swan is now gone.
Ink dried when he became past, forsaken
the blurring verses as sight was near done.        

Like a battle begun by stalwart hands
the race has been run, the passion is cold.
Hearts wept as courage made its last stand
and the finalé of Lost-in-France became told.
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