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Flame Apr 2018
You are my first love
The one that God sent from above
You are my last love
The one I asked of

I am your first
I gave you the love that eased your thirst
I was your last
The loud melody that moved your music into blast

You were my first
My last
I was your first
But never your last
SelinaSharday Feb 2018
I was out browsing the galaxy.
I came upon this place of poetry.
There are Poems laying at the Poetry Alter.
Found a poem I also wanted to give some water.
At the Poetry's ALTER
Pieces looked upon.
From the fore front they've gone.
Yet they are special and still stretched carefully out.
Like flowers just waiting there to sprout.
Poems to be read upon like planted seeds.
For anyone who needs,
I was out browsing the galaxy.
I came upon this place of poetry.
There are poems laying at the Poetry Alter.
Found a poem I also wanted to give some water.
We are the Writers, the sowers, the reapers.
We are workers the laborers the Poetry Keepers.
Let us browse the books, the internet nooks, the newspaper shoots,
But let us not be guilty of being overlooking crooks.
Let us not go ignoring the massive carefully written books.
But let us sow
Were we shall reap, let us read that we may grow,
I was out browsing the galaxy.
I ran across this place of Poetry.
Let us pour WATER.
On the poems left lying at the Poetry's Alter.
Dear writers of poems, songs and books you have now been watered.
This water consists of vitamins, and mineral for you to grow.
May more from you develop And more of you may sow?
You're watered by tears of joy, laughter and refreshing rains.
Your Poems are seeds, grown and sown it forever abides,
and its uniqueness remains.
S.A.M. All Rights Reserved © 2007
uniqueness of individual poems from the heart they have grown been shown shared and dared to be traveled passages tucked in given unique places. For the love of poetry I wrote this one..
neth jones Jan 2018
INT - JULIAS' HOUSE - THE BLANK ROOM - AUTUMN EVENING

Pick teeth in maw
shuttering ;
I imagine you
Minotaur

You mail me voices
you unmend each night
I clothe the window
but you are brighter
you fill

I replenished your alter
re-burdened the sill
new meats from the Butcher
it's quite an arrangement
for a carnival such as yourself

A fortunes soil of gutting
it's the best I'm willing to offer
a meal
a wealth
so here it is
a tilt to your health
I back out of the room
I close the light
blackout
                                                  ­         CUT TO :

ANOTHER DAY - WORLD AT PLIGHT

I dress up my morning
and enter the room
a tiding,
a horror,
a vacuum !

You have scatted and cast
and made gore of my gift ;
made rent and wipings of the curtains
made leavings off of an ill stomach

What can I give you ?
how much more ?
how may I appease you
my Minotaur ?
When Jesus said I
and father are one,
come to me you all
Before I am gone.

Declared the krishna
that I am the one,
Who created the world
all things have come.

And under the Bodhhi
When buddha attained,
Bursting with joy then
Humbly proclaimed.

Which cannot be seen
Which cannot be known,
That nothing is me
That void, that none.

Then often you ask
And wanted reply,
A Jesus , A Budhha
Egoistic so, why.

What they conveyed
you never perceived,
With clouds in mind
Truth seldom received.

When they asserted
themselves so high,
You looked at them
With doubting eye.

Your ego is trouble
And it is the one,
doubtIng forever, in
Always suspicion.

Either you boost it
Or get it nurtured,
At times pretending
You Look so cultured.

In Krishna, in Jesus
Where is me, my,
They refer the source
When speak of I.

Mirrors are they
and simply reflect,
Who ever you are
What ever project.

Until  you know
language unknown,
No one expecting you
Rightly respond.

The Krishna,The Budhha
The Jesus, names long,
recognize them always
After they gone.

The Nanak, Laotse
Same Light with names.
Where ever you touch
The sea remains the same.

Ajay Amitabh Suman
              ‎
All Rights Reserved
Crystal Peterson Jan 2017
No matter how much we love them,
Alas,
The stars cannot be ours to hold.
No amount of obsession nor effort
May alter this.
Joshua Penrod Dec 2016
In her smoke, a heavy burn
Leaving him thirsty and parched
She taught a heavy lesson to learn
That loving her and her alone,
Is a church bell ringing above an alter dark

"Church Bell" -JP
"What do you want? . . . ",
She burst out-
In throbbing conflict,
I vomited:
"Sory".
She could never learn
How to alter
Printed scripts.
2015 August 12.
About 28 years ago!
Michael DeVoe Jan 2015
We said **** it to the big wedding we had been sketching out
Got married in her living room
She wore her grandmother’s dress
Long sleeves, ruffles, the whole bit
Her family was there, that’s all that had mattered anyway really
My family didn't need a ceremony
My friends couldn't care less
And her friends, fickle as they were, wouldn't have come anyway
So before her family, their god, and his bible we were wed
Her smile, the same as it ever was, beamed
I guess I was disappointed that it wasn't a different smile
I assumed that somewhere between, “will you marry me?” and “I do”
She would've practiced her fake smile more
But that’s how it was with her
Enough effort to make you love her, never enough to feel loved
I know, I know, I know
But I’m still trying to figure out if she means well
Or if she’s just doing what she thinks she’s supposed to
A collection of poems by me is available on Amazon
Where She Left Me - Michael DeVoe
http://goo.gl/5x3Tae
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