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  Nov 2016 Sourodeep
Pax

flowing words that ripples through,
painted pain in the waters
waiting to be
understood.

life is a river
we pass through many
paths and rock hurdles
along the way
some may block us
with a dam
but over time
life's rain
overflows our
waters as we
jump through
big walls
like a waterfall
we fall
and continue our
journey towards
the ocean....

© Pax
  Oct 2016 Sourodeep
Ysabel Cruz
You never really know what’s coming,
a small wave, a big one.
Life is surprising,
because someone came along.

With every crash of a wave,
the stress is washed away.
Every minute spent with you,
I have faced the earth, brave.

The day arrived when I had to wear my veil,
a beautiful white lace of purity.
This day embarks us to set sail,
of our moments of gentle charity.

It may be inevitable,
for the high tides to drown us away.
Let’s not make our impulses irrevocable.
Together we can fight the days of gray.

Waves don’t die,
same as my love for you.
Look at the sky,
the stars shine for me and you.
A poem I wrote for the 50th anniversary of my grandparents.
  Oct 2016 Sourodeep
Rainey Birthwright
.
Patches of grass spot the hill,
Interspersed are old stones
Wind blown, like bones
Buried deep in the sun.

Wildflowers are crowding
There too, scorching bloom
In desolation, windy blown,
Sacred as any high tomb.

Crows circle above, waiting
For new soiled dreams to end,
I watch them from a shy window
Cold as the hill stones, remaining.
Sourodeep Oct 2016
Imaginations clouding my mind
with what beauty lies inside
only a glimpse I can see
through the window by the tree

The size and scale I cannot determine
shadows from lamps dance in line
between the broken wooden frame
from my side each shadow looks the same

Story concealed by a wavy curtain
about the truth I cannot be so certain
In my mind images shape up and grow
while my heart lies in just the beautiful shadow
Every story we hear might not be true, a curtain might be shaping the shadow for us.
  Oct 2016 Sourodeep
SE Reimer
~

when joy seems lost, when peace is gone;
to earth falls flat pleas skyward cast;
when those thought once to be a friend,
have all gone on, seems none are left;
when ears that heard, yet now are deaf,
when dreams lay torn, and hope bereft.

do not despair, nor call for end,
beyond these mists i am your friend;
your voice, a cry on wing and clear,
not all have left, know i am near;
i am hope disguised as gentle hands,
that reach to sooth the soul in angst.

i am love cloaked as eyes that seek,
the wounded heart that silent weeps;
i am your brother, i your kin,
though not by blood, nor race, nor skin,
yet beats within this breast as yours,
a heart breathed life at heaven's door.

your breath, my own, my will i share,
till yours can breathe, your burdens bear;
my oath, my pledge, your comfort be,
my blood transfused, beats still in thee;
i lend my hope to be your warmth,
i offer arms to hold you close.

you need not face another day,
a lifeless soul who walks away,
a faceless one who’s lost their voice,
but ’til your own has been restored,
to you the lyrics, lines belong,
'til you remember, i’ll sing your song.

~

*post script.

approximately 96 hopeless souls reach the end each day, and pull the trigger on whatever their choice of escape they had planned it to be (that’s one every fifteen minutes).  the number is even larger if we include those who attempt and fail.  if there are only six degrees of separation, imagine how many in your circle this means are contemplating, and are in and out of some level of consideration of making this day their last.  remember, a song is amazingly powerful.  it does not take a fireman to talk someone down off a ledge or a policeman to coax someone into laying down the gun, it only takes someone who is willing to listen, long before the gun and the ledge; someone willing to smile and be hope and notes for a soul who has lost their song... to remind them of the song they have forgotten; their song... hope’s song!
  Oct 2016 Sourodeep
Ja
Each day I ****, on a Whiskey bottle
As my life, also does **** on me
My worth on earth, about as much
As my **** is, to the sea

Inside this swashing jug, a raging sea
Sets me adrift, atop a cresting wave
Then pulls me under to such depths
That my soul, I can no longer save

With each gulp, I stir the bowels
Arouse the sediment and silt
And as it settles, I hope it hides
Or at least, obscures my gilt

Every mouthful, flays my throat
Like waves, they break into the rocks
Smashing, spraying, then dissipating
Where the Devil stands and mocks

I drink until, my mind goes blank
Then plunge into the floor
At last, a drunken blissful peace
Until I wake, once more

So as I lay here, on this deck
Inebriated, dying in this flask
I think of you and what we had
If forgiveness, I could only ask
BOEMS BY JA 614
  Oct 2016 Sourodeep
Elizabeth Squires
Whatever happened on that fateful night
We can speculate in the dimness of light
Was found the poet who went by the name of Poe
Wandering a Baltimore street of long ago

Mystery surrounds this most tragic event
No witnesses came forth with telling to vent
His mind state must of been in utter disarray
Why would he not know of the foul play

In dishevelled ragged clothes he was clad
An injustice on his person had been so sad
Elections were taking place on the date
His registered title forged another's slate

To a hospital he was sent for treatment
Though his weakened constitution never bent
The man of letters died a loner's death
His last words were of God's sure breath

Who wanted the author disposed of back then
We'll ever conjecture on the character's pen
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