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 Apr 2016 Sasha Ranganath
oakley
you float among waves
i float among stars
show me the oceans
i'll take you to mars
we can follow the sunset
because this world is ours
in a wave of emotion
we'll forget about scars
i'll show you my mind
though it is quite bizarre
i'll hold on to your words
like fireflies in a jar
My thighs sit in melancholic
harmonies
yearning for the
soft graze
of your tongue
and although
these emotions tend
to arrive in waves,
I am forcing the
drum in my
heart to play
a tune more upbeat.
-in case you thought you were irreplaceable
What do you believe in, all on your own?
Stocks, family, love in your home?
Do you question who you are and why you do?
Or do you sit glassy eyed before the tube?
Though I wish ignorance, it will never come,
So question yourself until you've won!
Won what?
Why, your humanity.
Why you should, and continue to be.
And if you stop unable to find one
Then you're in danger, for your worth is none.
No reason to live, your works tally to zero,
When you die, no shout of, "Qualis artifex pereo!"
Qualis artifex pereo - Emporer Nero's Last words translated to, " what an artist dies in me"
(-)
she checks her teeth in the door glass of the oven.

the egg is dropped
and the owl
******.
Broke her piggy bank

Sold her shells to the sea

Lied to the believers

Sat on the stars and looked below

to see the street lights twinkling the brightest
 Aug 2015 Sasha Ranganath
Poetria
Society left us all alone.

So we built ourselves a word throne.
// We are the leftovers
society doesn't know how to use. //
Home Is Where The Heart Is

Home is where the heart is
But my hearts no longer home
So I'll pack my bags and move away
To go find what I need most

I never want to look back
On all that could have been
I'll turn the page on this book of life
A new chapter will begin

I hope one day you'll understand
What I have to do
Move away from my home town
And start out someplace new

I never thought there'd come a time
When I would walk away
From this town where I grew up
And know I'll be okay

They say home is where the heart is
But my hearts no longer home
So I'll pack my bags and move away
To go find what I need most

Home is where the heart is


Poem by : Carl Joseph Roberts
If you like please share with a few collections

After many years in Ohio it seems my soul is calling me to another state. At 50 years old and with working in Law Enforcement for 27 years as well as private sector and flipping houses, it is now time to enjoy life a little more. At 50 I'm sure I'll still be doing something, just not sure what. Flipping homes seems to have been my passion these past 10 years so maybe that. Maybe something else that the man upstairs has planned for me.   I think for me it's just time to start chapter two.
I write fiction because I realized
from a young age that
I was a splendid liar,
with these pretty little lies
I ******* all nice and tight.
Slowly they became bigger
as I became bigger
and they became ugly
as I became ugly,
and still they came,
with more momentum now.
They grew thorns, hurting the
people who believed them.
I put them on the paper
so they could look beautiful
again.
Still they were false.
Still they sat in my gut
like an unwanted child,
a weight I couldn't help
but carry.
So here, another lie
for me to tie.
See, see how pretty it is?
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