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kevin hamilton Oct 2017
northern window
breaks from the inside
there will always be others
for you to skin
and starve and overflow
with tacit permission

the ground
parts for me this time
i would rather stay awake
but my eyes are heavy
and dimming fast
dearest, let me lay
in this tidal pool of blood

i am always left alone
after last insipid words
whispered thinly
from a ring of stones
Purcy Flaherty Mar 2018
A shallow being that simply consumes, discards and then moves on to the next host!
Every good or creative act is designed to mask that simple fact! This creature presents a chosen character and sexuality for reasons pertaining to social image.
*** is simply a tool for manipulation or pleasure!
There is no love!
Just stepping stones!
people using people
Joanna May 16
The river flows to the ocean, releasing in me the freedom to love like never before.

Beckoning me, to immerse myself in rays of light that pierce the dark waters below, and wooing me to let passion grow.

he river flows with beauty and charm, removing dullness of vision and adding length to years.

Bringing forth a new tributary it draws me near, similar, and at the same time all its own.

This river flows forth with strength, out of a foundation of stone.
To read more of my writings go to: http://reflectionsoflight7.wixsite.com/home
ryn  Oct 3
Skipping Stones
ryn Oct 3
I am but a stone
just skipping across a body of still.
I get a taste
yet never fully drenched.
Not until I lose all momentum
and mobility - I sink.

Submerge...

And then drown.
Marta C Weeks  Jun 2017
For Ever
Marta C Weeks Jun 2017
The mind
when immersed in memories
of yesterday carried by
hopes of tomorrows
and thoughts that like stones
on the surface of a lake
skip from feeling to heart
tracing ripples of emotions
as from nature's beauty
to the smallness of self
is a universal totality
brushing wind over water
to wave onto shore
a life that lost on Earth
helps grow the next wave
that reaches beyond
into the horizon
where some go to sleep
while others wake
are born or take last breath
to be born again
matters not if the sun shines
or the moon reflects on its surface
glass only gives back
the reality of what is
not what one wants
the universal blanket
over and under
above and below
into time on end
not wavering not changing
to accommodate humanity
sustains eternity
what was and what will be
wishing to be more
is as a mere leaf that falls
over an oak seed on its bank
majestic in the passing
before and after us
is where we take part
of forever

Marta
06/01/2017
I edited.:
Alexis Oct 9
it’s my fault really
I gave you the sticks
Taught you how to throw the stones
and you broke me .
Twigzy Sep 2018
Your children are a precious gift so innocent and pure.
At their birth you have the hope of love, lasting evermore.

You spend your waking days attending to their needs,
Waiting for the next smile and sound of utter glee,

And when you sleep you dream of them and wait until the dawn,
Rising before break of day to greet them in the morn,

Your babies grow and soon become your little girls and boys.
You exchange all their play things for larger, bigger toys.

You’ve learned about mothering and matured along the way,
But your relationship with their daddy isn’t turning out ok.

There are ups and downs and you expect that to be true.
But underlying unhappiness begins to escape through.

Daddy doesn’t seem to be all he is meant to be,
Late nights in the lounge, is he watching the TV?

Your children keep you happy though, just look into their face,
They make you smile, they make you laugh, and they fill you with grace.

But underlying unhappiness cannot be washed away,
It’s growing like a tumour, just waiting for its day.

You are not sure what it is, but this one thing you know,
No matter what happens now, you enjoy watching your children grow.

The pre-teen years are nearly over and the high school years draw near.
Then one child beckons you and whispers in your ear.

“Daddy’s been molesting me it started when I was four
All those times you were asleep, he came through my bedroom door
He put his hands all over me I couldn’t make him stop
I wanted to die many times, to fall down and drop!

He hurt me with his ***** mummy, I am so ashamed
I was too scared to tell before because I was to blame
Once, you were in the room mummy, I could see you sleeping
He molested me then and there mummy, I could hear your breathing

My heart screamed out to you mummy, but I did not exist,
My soul began to suffocate and death seemed freedoms bliss.”

The words your child is speaking echo through an empty void,
And darkness falls around you, encumbering you like a shroud.

Someone just stuck a knife into the heart of what was sacred.
Your precious children have been filled with someone else’s hatred.

You need some help, you need to grieve but who can be trusted.
The fear the shame the hurt the blame your heart is torn and busted.

You collect your shattered children and hold them very tight,
You hold them ever so-close, you hold them with all your might.

Flashes of the years gone by ignite before your eyes,
And you see so clearly, all the torment in his lies.

Time has passed you by and your children have grown
But it feels only yesterday you were crushed against the stones
This was how the my first marrage ended.
Our family has survived. My children have become brave adults, they are my heroes
Dragged into the water
Left to sit, stagnant
Prodded from below
Here you go, baby
Take it back, swallow it whole, a fledgling flickered,
Too small to fly
Caught in wire, it’s legs bound and bleeding
Where was he when you opened your eyes, and became aware of the body next to yours?
Hot and wet from the same things
Do you have a song on your heart?
Scolded by cherries, the woman in the window and the decay
There they will run
Here I will hide
Lilith craved Ficus carica,
Mr. Robot brandished
a branch of Olea europaea.
Would either care to comment
on the state of the world? Their intentions
clear. Is it that "all the world's a stage"
or that all we are is a mirror?
Should it matter that I feel the motions of my mind, and
long to escape without the aid of their counterparts.
Subtle contrarian. Every reaction has its equal
in emotion; each moment has its fulcrum.
Quote:
Line Six from William Shakespeare's As You Like It, spoken by Jaques in Act II Scene VII.
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