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Rae Jun 2016
A week with me and you.
No distractions, no pain.
No rumors, no liars
Just us two.

Sharing the purest feelings.
No hurt, no false love.
A pure love.
A week that makes us cry when we're leaving.

Because we know when we get back
We have to deal with the pain,
With the distractions,
And it will be love that we lack.

But this is our week
That can't be ruined.
Not by moods and drama.
This week, happiness is all that I seek.
I need this more than anything
Poetic T Apr 2014
As they all sat around the camp fire reading to
each other poetic rhyme, there were many who
would not last the night at camp forward what
or who would meet there demise?

Sue was writing ***** things  you could see it
in her eyes. The others around the camp fire
was Brother Newton, Orchidee, & Karen, they
were talking philosophy… Bri mar & Grandma
were talking rather intensely about meanings
of life & religion agreeing to disagree.  

Lolly was laughing with Ant, Poetic T &
Tadpole about his latest creation in stiches for
all to see. Jambo didn’t laugh he just quite
abruptly disagreed.

It was late, the fire once fierce now red embers
could all only see. Good night  Sue said it’s
getting late for me, she needed the toilet but
full were all three so in to the woods she was
shown a good spot to ***.

As she squatted a bear trap went off cutting
Sue in to three. Her scream unheard as only
things that go bump in the night could be
heard aloud in the trees.

Brother Newton went off to sleep only to be
awoken as someone carried him off trapped
in his sleeping bag was he, In the background
Alice cooper could be heard, the man behind the
mask as he was violently smashed against the tree.

Brother Newton now left as all that could be seen
was a red soaked sleeping bag sinking in to the
lake near camp never again to be seen.

Grandma went off with Orchidee to pray, but
as they approached the alter tubular bells could
be heard as the cross fell or was it pushed?
And nailed under the cross were both. We forgive  
they both said as there life left for another less
blood soaked place..

*To Be Continued
mori walts Apr 2016
ME?
I am like a riddle
WRITTEN
but
UNREADABLE.
unless
you
know
that
ENDINGS
are
BEGINNINGS.
then
you
know me
as
{INFINITY}
032316 #TagkawayanBeachToPPC #HawlingDay

Madaya ang dagat na tumatabi,
Umiiwas sa lalim na walang lebel.
Kung susukatin ang dipa ng pising ibinigkis,
Milya ang distansya ng berde't kayumanggi.

Pahiwatig ng hampas ng mga dahon,
Kanila ang lupang may paghuhumaling sa nayon.
Gayundin pala ang kurot
Ng latigong pakpak ang armas.

Hininga ay buhay
Sa baku-bakong daang
Nagmimintis sa tahanan.
Ilang gulong na kaya ang nagpatalyer?
At nausugan ng ilan pang mga panlupang sasakyan.

Napapagod ang likido ng Langit
Na siyang minsang lampas-lupang nagpakumbaba.
Napapagod ang Ilaw
Sa pagsirit ng kandilang hindi nauupos.
O ang mga ibong pumapagaspas
Sa ereng walang tiyak kung saan papadyak.

May mga kasuotang gula-gulanit,
Sila'y may mantsya't may kalakip na basbas.
Hindi maititikom ang pagsampal ng paa,
Mga paang piniling lumaya
Kahit tadtad sila ng kalyo.

Ganoon pala ang pagpihit ng duyang sandali lamang,
Ihihile ka nang saglit,
Sabay makikibaka sa panahong gusto niya.

Simple ang buhay,
Namamahinga't umiiling kadalasan.
Ni ayaw ang gintong luha,
Kalasag pala ng kanyang pagkatanda.
032616

You're a charcoal in disguise
Sparks fly, electricity's dry.
Wind blows and melody swings,
Heartbeats rolling faster in grip.

Chewed sands, rough and dry
Pale like a race but not a frowning drama.
Steps were not heard in the audience so new,
Dripping pillows from the sky, a lantern not blue.

Sound's a cliche, reminiscing the view
Chants of mercy and grace; wild flowers were betrayed.
Fired the dark, invisible sky
The King has arise, victory is ours!
Tony Luxton Feb 2016
A makeshift camp of hardy souls,
the air is cold but we are free
and hold to our common causes.
Little is said. There's much quiet thought.

The crackling fire makes it all
real, fans our fellowship of feelings,
casting shadows of mysterious
creatures . The flames flay our faces red.

Limbs stiffen, ache, but only eyes move
for fear of breaking our charmed circle.
Minds are moving fast over unknown
futures, over people from the past.
Alan S Bailey Feb 2016
Every weekend at summer camp
Memories of the midnight walks we made,
The rushing of the silvery creeks
As well as the daily art and games,
Entertainment as well as molding clay,
The mountainside at night gave good
Presence, the moon offering her halo,
With the memory of endless essence so,
During this time of adventurous fun,
A story telling we campers would all go.

Her raspy voice, I can remember well,
Those cute sparkly playful brown eyes,
We walked side by side, she told me that
The truth was being denied, she was a
Girl in disguise, how I dream of her
In Garnet, Capricorn. That feeling of total trust,
Now I will probably never be close to
Anyone I love again, already grown old,
To old to ever dream, but what a dream,
A lovely bliss to know that she was my friend.

One day, when the time is right, we'll find it,
This feeling again, of wild spirited joy, campfires,
Of following the forest path, now innocence lost,
A time that is long-gone and past, and if it
Never happens again, the darkness of night
With quiet whispering, story time moon light,
I will never forget her, never will I forget that
Beautiful freckled face, those beady eyes,

*No, never forget you, not for all time.
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