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MawaLin Dec 2018
There are parts of me that I am still learning to accept.
It's in the roots of my hair,
Embedded under my skin,
It darkness my knees,
On the bridge of my nose,
Rolls off my tongue
To the alignment of my toes.
And as I grow, they too grow with me.
Ozioma Ogbaji  Apr 2015
UTOPIA
Ozioma Ogbaji Apr 2015
As beautiful as the famed city of Atlantis
Gloriously flourishing in her perfection
There is a place where my soul and heart is
A perfect place without grief or deception

Where my heart is always merry
And peace blossoms like the cherry
The sun smiles at me gently caressing
My body as the birds sing melodies-
So beautiful they keep me guessing-
The beauty of future melodic memories

Like the Cedars of Lebanon
Beautifying the palaces of Ethiopia
Purity, love and perfection adorn her every season.
This place is within me; this place is Utopia
CK Baker  Jan 2018
pike place
CK Baker Jan 2018
who lit the candles
placed eloquently
behind purple rock?
the sculpted radiance,
chapel grace
wound in a chosen
defined way
down the spiral
stone stairs

street cars dawdle
alongside
the packer slew
biding merchants
and frontmen
shuffle their wares
as the madman
and pock face
sing their
holy blues

cut jazz echoes
over the accompanying
gabble and drone
incense and haze
pour from
a lower trap door
sack fish, truffles
and splendid crafts shine
inside the stained glass fronts

a wide mouth snapper
with a bloated tongue
greets the
morning tide
(not camera shy
in the least!)
the fish traps
and beaneries
bring life
to the flourishing causeway

hula hoops
and ballers
join the
cobaine stage
favoured rogues
and mac jacks
speak easy
of the big daddy

beth’s triple by pass
taking firm hold on
tricky ****
and the nutcracker
maze ways,
taggers and
lost tunnels
of cu chi
strike a
nerving blow

a poised finger man
belts out his tune
(with a sniff sock
and iterating glare)
his nosey neighbors
cut artisan bread
(with a white wine
and jelly spread)
midwives push forward
for an afternoon
toddle and stroll
TheMystiqueTrail Sep 2018
Parallel lines do not meet.
Together they travel,
all through a lifetime
savouring the solitude
of each others company.

Intact they keep their uniqueness,
never crossing each other's path, giving space
to the other to bloom,
flourishing in each other’s company.

Parallel lines do not meet
when they meet, they die!
Railroads always fascinate me!
In lonely moments
I stroll the waning memories
when love pure smiled blissfully
deep within a fawning heart

a wistful melody arises untainted
like a steaming enslaved passion
                         breathlessly released
                              unrestrained,..

         ­                          evident
                    as the pressed and dried flowers
          cuddled between life's ardent petaled pages,
                         bookmarks of the heart

                         traces of the wild bouquets
                         that often soothingly caress’d
                         the energizing tingles  
                         inflaming a tantalizing touch

                         the yearning  empty voids
                         feverishly undressed,
                         traced in the hidden sands
                         of unexplored oceans..
                        
                         though time and distance
make the bereft heart grow helplessly fonder,
memories fade softly as the summer breeze befalls,
  
                         as gentle feather’d touch
                         the evanescent sunset afterglow
                         where the earth and sky align
                         the dimming of the day

         loving can heal
the poet’s bleeding words,
loving can mend your soul ―

                         the perennial dawning of an
                         unpromised new day
                         will someday come again

        bequeathed like the bluebird’s mirthful song
to bring forth nascent wild flowers’ blossoming petals
              flourishing in the meadow of my heart


                 *Someone you used to know
© March 2017
Thank you for reading
.
Jack Jenkins Jul 2016
Love is rarely ever found, (I found you)
Instead,
Love is built. (We've built so much)
Built with a solid foundation,
Built with a design in mind,
Built with strong materials,
Love is built with hard work. (Sweat and sacrifice)
with willingness to sacrifice,
to be hurt.
Upholding one another
at our worsts. (Our hearts are strong enough)

Love isn't taken, but grown, (We've grown together)
Starting as a seed.
Nurtured in the rains
and sunlight
of life.
Roots strong enough not
to be uprooted by fiends. (I'll never leave you)
Delicate and tenderly, slow and steady.
Flourishing branches (We have flourished)
upholding the weight of grown love. (We've grown together)
//On her//
If you know the meaning of the title, hat tip to you. ;)
Elizabeth  Jun 2016
Wishing well
Elizabeth Jun 2016
A leafless tree never needing company.
Yet, always seeking beauty in strangers eyes, staring from a distance, pondering why I am alone and happy with nothing to boast but empty hopes.

I am a love of yours.
Standing in the cold, wishing for home

My body flourishing,
wanting to be ravished by those curious hands, never distant, never inconsistent,
I am a love of yours waiting to bloom amidst the chaos of every days humdrum.

I am just a love of yours.

Our eyes slow dance everytime they meet
I carry you in between breaths, always waiting, Our lips suffocate, our bodies slowly separate—-
I find solace in knowing, I'm never hurting.

Standing in the cold, wishing this is home

The edging dance of night and day,
Always connected, yet never really intimate, marveling with my eyes in the sky, I see an interlude of you and I.

Always waiting for the sun to set,
Staring into nothingness,
Wishing that maybe, just maybe
You'll slowly touch me.

Always waiting for the sun to rise,
I'd lust you in the day,
and loathe you in the night.

A leafless tree waiting for company,
standing in the cold, wishing for home
Wishing that maybe, just maybe

you'll always find me.
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