cry baby, cry
all the world was in front
all the past was behind
and you dropped the ball.
it fell right out of your hand
and for what?
don't say it was for love
because that would be a crying shame.
this life is not a Shakespearean play,
the ebb and flow just isn't here and
there is no rhyme, and there is no reason
and the grammar is bad.
so cry baby, cry
you let everything get to you
you cut off your nose to spite your face
like standing on the tracks to catch the train.
it's such a drag
maybe you should go back home
and leave those fiery, gun powder dreams behind.

For so long I've been in a real dark place

Hiding away from the things I couldn't face

Drowning in sadness, enveloped by gloom

Day after day I'd sit alone in my living room

Curtains stayed shut, my mind closed off too

Nowhere to be, nothing needed to do

Days and nights merged into one

Didn't know when one ended or when it begun

Not that it mattered, I didn't care

Wasn't as if I needed to be anywhere

People would come, I didn't answer the door

Eventually they didn't come anymore

Darkness and sadness had engulfed my soul

Depression had come and swallowed me whole

Being alive had stopped being a pleasure

Life was something I now didn't treasure

But slowly the dark clouds are shifting

The depression and sadness are lifting

Each day I feel able to do a little bit more

My heads getting clearer, my heart is a little less sore

Things are starting to look a little more bright

I'm half way down the tunnel.......and I'm seeing

We test the waters
first with our toes,
to take the first unknown step
in the naked ocean
we reside

Stage smiles in photographs
as we know
only ink can truly capture
the raw, inner self

We celebrate picturesque
landscapes donning walls
of their master's sanctum,
as nature is force to
retreat behind a concrete
dystopia

We kiss the lips of death
and press our hands
upon the dark cloth
feel the woven
thread,
to nurture our souls
when are bodies
are not fed

.
The scent of your love,
sweeter than Arabian jasmine
wafting on soft sirocco
through an orchid oasis
in the sun-kissed desert.

The scent of your love,
purer than Mysore sandal
drifting on cool breeze
through a fresh glade
in the rain-soaked forest.

The scent of your love,
more than aroma therapy
carried on astral light
through a frozen waste
to my tear-stained heart.

© Pagan Paul (31/01/17)

Autumn leaves
would do
for remembrance,
Perhaps,
more than words,
or a  plaintive air
Of a yellow guitar;
a rain,
a wine-dark wind  
spraying last summer's
fragrance.
Ah! Your absence!

Your white,
present, absence 
unshields
my metaphor!

© LazharBouazzi, December 7, 2016

Under the branches                                                         ­                                                                  Where the tall grass grows,                                                           ­                                                               Th­ere’s a people who hide                                                             ­                                                             And no one knows.                                                           ­                                                                 ­       The way they survive                                                          ­                                                                 ­     Is like none other,                                                           ­                                                                 ­            For they fear the world                                                            ­                                                                 And all its terror.                                                          ­                                                                 ­             They hear the voices                                                           ­                                                                 ­      And see the shadows,                                                         ­                                                                 ­          They live in darkness                                                         ­                                                                 ­        And shake and cower.                                                           ­                                                                 ­     They live but                                                              ­                                                                 ­                 In harsh conditions,                                                      ­                                                                 ­                 Making the craziest                                                         ­                                                                 ­               Rash decisions.                                                       ­                                                                 ­                    Everyone wants                                                            ­                                                                 ­               To put them to death,                                                           ­                                                                 ­     But I say stand up                                                               ­                                                                 ­     And fight for who’s left.                                                            ­                                                                 The problem doesn’t lie                                                              ­                                                                I­n the heart of the ******,                                                          ­                                                              But­ in the mind                                                             ­                                                                 ­           Their thoughts are filled with typos.                                                           ­                                                 They twitch and hide                                                             ­                                                                 ­   And want to die,                                                             ­                                                                 ­         But nobody sees                                                             ­                                                                 ­           The demons inside.                                                          ­                                                                 ­      The voices that haunt them                                                             ­                                                         The nightmares that stick,                                                           ­                                                                 ­The noises torture them                                                             ­                                                               Ju­mping off the highest peak.                                                            ­                                                         Terror and delusion                                                         ­                                                                 ­        The river that roars,                                                           ­                                                                 ­        The horrible psychosis                                                        ­                                                                 ­      The mania implores.                                                        ­                                                                 ­        These people know nothing                                                          ­                                                              But­ how to live,                                                            ­                                                                 ­         With the horrible fate                                                             ­                                                                 ­   That they’ll never be saved.