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 Sep 2020 Sky
 Sep 2020 Sky
There is this taste
that I can’t rinse, spit
or rid myself of lately
and it’s not the kind
left behind by a dentist
yanking a wisdom tooth
out or the ****** mouth
from an eighth grade
playground go around
or bad blood in the hood
but something more
like a fight for a life bored
to the bone and hung
out to dry in the sun
having to bite my tongue
on the curse of the irony
of it all that I find too
hard and bitter to swallow.
 May 2020 Sky
I wana close my eyes
& wake up next to you
I wana see your worst
that leads up to the best of you
I wana lay on your chest
& listen to your heart beat
Look up into your eyes
& tell you that it belongs to me
I wana please you
mentally, emotionally & physically
I wana make you smile
be your saving grace
kiss all over your face
& give you the best of me
I wana make you wana run home to me
& make love to me
because you love being alone with me
I want you to trust deep down in your core that I adore you
Do anything for you
I love you with all of me
I Would never do you any harm
You not being part of my world
means everything in life is wrong
I wana be your confidant
your best friend, lover & your wife
I want you to know that
where you belong is forever in my life.
 Feb 2020 Sky
Pagan Paul
Last Night
 Feb 2020 Sky
Pagan Paul
Last night
she said I was cold.
Surrounded in a halo of frost.
It burnt her fingers
as she dared to touch,
but there was little there.
Just … frost-bite,
and the sense
that she was alone in the room.
In body I was there,
but the Boat of Millions of Years
was sailing through my eyes
to the intended destination,
my lost mind.
She called to me
but I was to far to hear.
Down her soft cheeks
the tears did stream,
as she screamed my name
over and over.
She screamed until
the screams turned to sobs,
as the slow realisation
that I no longer knew her,
knew me, knew anything,
hit her like a wave of grief,
freezing her emotions dead.
Last night
she said I was cold.
And I was cold
because I knew that it was
our Last Night.

© Pagan Paul (16/02/20)
 Dec 2019 Sky
Corrinne Shadow
When I was small
I wrote a song.
It was as wild
As it was long.

I did not know
How to write words
And so I sang
With the morning birds.

Now I am grown,
I am depressed.
I write long things
Just to impress.

I do not sing,
I only sigh.
When I was small
I was alive.
 Nov 2019 Sky
maybe someone died
 Apr 2019 Sky
 Apr 2019 Sky
I’m on the fine gray line
between the living
and the divine.
 Apr 2019 Sky
 Apr 2019 Sky
Put your cigarette out on my soul.
If it keeps you safe,
It’ll keep me sane.
No matter the sensation
of nicotine flame
pressed to my heart
I’ll love it if it means
I can love you as well.
 Apr 2019 Sky
sometimes a haiku
is all that you really need
to get through your day

but sometimes it's not
and i'm finding more and more
that i often need more syllables
more space than just a simple five-seven-five
to really express what i'm thinking
to express what i'm feeling
get my point across

i find myself trapped
by the very same thing that
used to help me keep

initially i was going to write a haiku. then i realized that i had more to say, so i played around with odd number (5, 7, 9, 11) syllabled lines to express that feeling
 Apr 2019 Sky
Sharon Flynn
Cleopatra heartbeats
each throb
held in the palm
of my Arcadian hand
chant along
with Egyptian ballads
wildly charismatic
dangerously alluring
jangle gold bracelets
and fly across
nomadic heart-miles
sway to
an Egyptian groove
walk lyrical
Egyptian steps
as I become
ruler of my land
queen of fanned flame
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