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 Nov 2013 Skyy Blu
Joshua Carney
I cannot ask for this
This thing
This bliss
I do not
DO NOT
Deserve it
This is
Without a doubt
Bound to me
Free from sound
Of light and wound
Tight
Change in me
The mights to wills
And still
I find night
Pressed
Against my breast
Expressed within
And beyond
Text
 Nov 2013 Skyy Blu
Olive B
He sighs through his nose and closes his eyes.
This, as they say, is the life.
Forget the sun-stained beaches.
Abandon the synthetic blue sea.
And who needs smooth sand?
When one has air?
And pray tell, where is the demand for rushing waves?
When one has silence?

Pictures and people are shown to him.
Autumn ’58, she tells him.
The jive, she says.
Bright dresses, say the pictures.
Polka dots. Fedora.
Vague smile, he says.

Here’s something he knows:
Peace lies in thoughts.
Serenity basks in plainness.
Know nothing.
Remember little.
Vacant, simple, and ignorant.
Ignorance, they say, is bliss.
Less, they say, is more.
Simplicity is splendour.
 Nov 2013 Skyy Blu
Olive B
An Artist chose to paint a piece
That spoke her very mind
And hopefully would be placed among
The great works of it’s kind.

So she placed carefully upon the easel
A canvas plain and bleak
She took a paintbrush in one hand
And the colours began to streak.

She smeared some colours onto the work
They did not want to blend,
Cerulean blue and a violent orange
Served only to offend.

She tried to daub the vicious reds
That she felt in her heart
Instead it did not suit so well
So she ripped the canvas apart.

A curious change came over her
As she tried again to paint
Her eyes took on a glow of joy
As if she were a Saint.

And finally, without a doubt
Her painting had to stop
And with a sigh of relief
She let the paintbrush drop

She stepped back, abject and weary
From the War she’d had to wage
And on the canvas, her painting was done-
A beautiful, blank page.
This poem is short and sweet,
like a strawberry plant.
This poem will be over before you know it,
just like you.
They say growing up, everyone goes there separate ways.
you say were like a river flowing together,
you say one day our sacred river will stitch apart.
your probably right.
everything changes.
things come and go,
thats the simple yet difficult part in life.
I believe some rivers flow into the same ocean.
besides where all water anyways.
 Oct 2013 Skyy Blu
Oanalala
It is said that everything on Earth is made of stardust
Therefore we are made of stardust.
So then, I wonder, what is our mind made of?
What is our soul made of?
Can we be certain that either of them is more than stardust?
After all, it would make sense to be made of the dust of a dying star,
We’re entirely made of it (it is said).

Or aren’t we?
Can we say that mind and soul is ours?
Can we posses them?
Can someone else posses them?
Can they be our own creation just as we are the creation of stardust?
Perhaps, perhaps not.

I don’t know if the soul is real
I can not know until I pass away,
But my mind,
I am certain of its authenticity
I know that I know it, and that it is the only thing that I can be sure I own completely.
Blossomed from me, and not from dust

So then, if I were to you give something
I’d always give my soul,
Because the mind is greater, and it’s mine.
 Oct 2013 Skyy Blu
Oanalala
Uncertainty,
Never knowing what’s going on inside your head
If I could only get a glimpse
If I could only get a hope
I don’t know why I keep trying
When it’s so obvious

I just can’t lose my last glimmer of hope
I can’t let it go
I feel that once I’ll do it
Everything will break
Well, my everything, my dreams and my desires and my imaginary meetings

I’m trying to let go
But it’s just so freaking hard
When the memory of no memory haunts me
If I’d only get a sign
Might I break,
Or might I fall into more delusions?
Are you in the right house?  
Look inside yourself to see. . .
Which 'father' are you serving?  
The one of ******* or the one that's free?
Is it a house of pain or a house of peace
Are you considered one of the most or just one of the least?
Does your father love unconditionally or does he require works?
Are you His child no matter what or does condemnation lurk?
Just address your heart, is it heavy or is it sad?
Does what you do make him happy or do you just make him mad?
Does he ever ask you to work or to die for your sins, too?
Or does He love you so much that He came and died for you?
Can your house be replenished daily from His 'ocean of mercy' or His 'sea of grace'?
Or does he throw your problems back at you - constantly putting them in your face?
You'd better check your house, this would do your soul well. . .
You'd hate to get to eternity & find out your home is 'Hell'!
This is only one of a host of poems I've composed.  I'd greatly appreciate your input & suggestions for future references by a 'like' vote for my poetry.  And always remember, "there is strength from the struggle, this we all need to know!" Affirm to help someone who crosses your path today. . .
 Oct 2013 Skyy Blu
Naomi Sa'Rai
Lets talk now
Hold my hand
I've only known one kind of touch
You sat down to listen...
In you I trust
Lets value each other
Look at my heart
I've never known my worth
You stood
Calming my nerves
I choked on *****
I hadn't realized was there
Lets flow together
Like the long locks
Of your curly hair
Grow with me
'Cause I'm bald to the roots
Metaphorically speaking
Lets talk now
You hold me like silk
I melt to you
I've only known one type of touch
You swiftly kiss my forehead
I never felt trapped laying in your bed
"Relax my love" is what you said
"Look at my heart...it knows your worth"
I heard the pounding of my heart
I hadn't realized was there
Lets flow together
Like a river to the stream
Being together and
Being one
Are two different things
Lets be one
Connect
Your veins will run through me
Hold my hand
In you I trust
I melt to you
You stood and said "I do"
And I knew
I would never love anyone
But you
 Oct 2013 Skyy Blu
Naomi Sa'Rai
I can see your face
It's those hands I can't quite remember
I know the exact day we met
The 15 of 1946
I just can't put my finger on
If it were November or December
I can feel your veins
And I've wondered why our heart beats the same tune
I know where we had our first kiss
It was in June and the flowers bloomed
Whilst some wilted to die
I know your lips
But I've completely forgotten the twinkle in your eye
The soft honey brown
I had a dream
About a boy
The one with the eyes like you
I pressed him from my very womb
My vision faded by morning
I couldn't much arrange his birthday
Oh but I knew his birth place
Oklahoma Oklahoma
He gave me a memory
And I'd loan it out to you
I know he knows your eyes too
I can see your face
It's that touch I can't quite place
It's comforting
And uncomfortable
But it brings awkward joy to you
Honestly I feel it surge through me too
I know the exact day we met
I just can't put my finger on
If it were April or May
We would take our handsome son
Out to play
Oh he had a smile
sweet as honey dew
Oklahoma Oklahoma
He gave me a memory
A memory that fades...like you

The Boy Named Oklahoma
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