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-elixir- May 2020
The cherub and her
balloons waited,
patiently,
For her companion,
The sun.
He rises roaring
with laughter,
from the east.

They hold hands,
and frolic in merry,
he fills her eyes
with the sunshine of divine.
As time ticks,
They hop to the beat,
of her heart,
to the west.

Where she bids him
farewell,
To the higher beyond
he goes,
as she, shares
her sunshine,
with the ghouls
among her.
And like that, she acquainted the ghouls void of warmth the sunshine amidst their wary cold existence.
Kat Schaefer May 2020
I hope your mornings are filled with kindness
That you rise with the sun instead of the snooze
May your coffee be warm and runneth over
And that you take the time to walk among the lilacs

I hope your afternoons are fast and productive
That your lunch is always your favorite
That you have enough mayo to mix with your ketchup
And that your fries are always crinkled but never cold

I hope that you ditch work for Wednesday night trivia
Your evening away from the relentless overtime
That you indulge in cheap food and light conversation
And that you never think twice about putting yourself first

I hope that you crawl into bed before midnight
That you are greeted by a soft pillow and warm blankets
May your eyes grow heavy and the lights go dim
And that you always remember that you are loved
Shounak Apr 2020
Cheer up mate, come out of the blue
How can I? Every shadow I see reminds me of you
My memory eludes me wish I could say
Because even after 5 years, it feels like yesterday
All those memories, now a part of the past
If only I knew this time would be the last
Stop thinking about her I say in the mirror
But deep down I wish I could see her
Atleast the mason is true to his job
Where I can't even be true to myself.
Alexandra Bakly Mar 2020
Dear god,

Please give me a best friend like no other,
A loyal, selfless, beautiful creature,

So that I won't be alone anymore.
Give me man's best friend.
I want a dog more than anything...
Grey Feb 2020
Every day, her smile greets me
as she enters the house after work.
Every day, she talks to me
until her mouth runs dry.
Every day, I walk by her side,
stopping only to smell the roses.
Every day, I follow her around,
waiting for her next command.
Every day, I put the light in her eyes
and the smile on her face.
Oh, how great it is to be a dog.
Dec something, 2019
moon man Jan 2020
As the fox watches in the bushes, He notices two frogs minding their existence.
The fox stares at the water dwellers with ill intent in his heart, but as the fox waits for a time to strike. He soon comes to realize that he would intrude upon a scene he was not meant to see. As the fox retreats from the pond, much to the dismay of his empty stomach, he finds that his companion brought something for both of them.
This poem was suggested to me by a frog lover, I'm sorry if it's not up to what you expected
Star BG Jan 2020
Writing is liberating.
Each word part of my heartbeat.

It makes time stops.
And then, one must regroup
to get back to life's reality.

Scribing puts writer into a vortex
that carries one
into new visions, divinely.
It's window that when read
can provide views of understanding.

Writing is a companion
who allows you to
speak freely anytime.
It's a voice buried in words
that gets ignited as one connects.

Scribing are words that hug
in middle of night,
when one can't sleep.
It's fuel that drives thoughts
with no red lights.

Writing is therapy where
one finds no need to hire a therapist.
It's sentences that are like a telegram line
which is electrified by readers eyes.

Scribers are members of sacred club where
membership is free and lasts a lifetime.
It's a penman’s purpose,
that comes at any age.

Writing is thought or emotion
that rockets onto page
with destination... Ones heart.

*
And poetry sweet poetry
are words that move like blood cells.
Please cut me and watch me bleed.
Inspired by chat with peter Lim Many thanks
Steph Portuguez Jan 2020
You blossomed rose, exotic with spreaded roots of thick gold,  just so far striking to the sun, you such a delightful mold.I, the caterpillar with enough amount of rolls. In excrement, the humanoids waste, I float. It's been so long, I haven't been able to drown, misled tragedy or not, I don't require to bloom, birth is overvalued but do I deserve to lose, or could I choke and get loose?


As most stories start, a major encounter was about to untie. The foolish timorous pair of flakes shook hands, "let's go lay on the desolated train rails," said the one with no plain aim. Shall we permit the sun to fry our flesh? Its asperity will darken our perspective trail.


A rest on the grass was precious for both dorks, they speculate how the moon was staged and the stars played betrayed. They deliberate a cosmic revolution has to be displayed. In the center of that field we pictured our own selves, we experiment the blissful act of creating a righteous sky, the carnival didn't even start, we were freed from the carousel of collateral harm. Just as we thought, reveries have no taxes to be feed and you and I we'll keep being fools as everyone thinks.


The day after tomorrow we'll reload our emotions of scoria, you tender companion to my dysphoria. As the music acts like drugs, piercing our veins and lungs. A good samaritan helped to exit the rage, an eccentric well danced craze.


Like black and white, there was she and I. She was bright as exuberant light, I was dark as a gnarly lamb. A convoluted attraction, a well designed pentagram, a blue but so blissful reaction. Will we ever be able to adapt?


We played jesters but so fools, an admirable klutzy ineptitude, a chosen existence of pure doom, a relative delirium yet so afraid to immerse into the strange, with curtains of normality we'll be standardly draped. People blessed the legend of the so called grey, their grins hide the stiff in their cozy graves.


Our night turned blue but the film gave us the smirk and cringe that we hoped to, our dialogue consisted in soul ache, unraveling the galaxies in which we'll never arrive, I dread. I explained the illogicalities that hid in the best part of my brain, "death, death, death what we must do while we still have a breath?" I raved, as a frustrated swine becoming a ham. So will it be valuable at the end? End of session, is this the real pleasure? Anyways, we farted and continued to rest.


As Peter I racked you with despair, we must leave, the train will not wait. As Wendy you refused to a fatal fail, I stood there with a floppy shiver and quivering legs. "I'm awaiting for the next train," she murmured with a teary stare. I didn't let my impulses aggravate her, I didn't inquire a "why," her gaze for a lane so bright, her ambition to overcome the loner side,
I had not the gut to smear that scenery of a chance. We both let go, mainly me, sure I needed her more, I tossed myself on the cabinet seat and controlled the sobbing of such a dramatic aesthetically scene. I have no imagery of her, visually blurred, not a last moment to recollect, a suitable Goodnight for a tomorrow in doubt and a cautious railroad without a collision to be found.


So, like black and white, a smooth, pigmented grey, there was she and I. Time keeps forgetting to stop drawing lines, we've got sadder and with a perpetual sarcastic shadow, we now ride in separate donkeys to grow in our own ...or to  hollow is the term that  I'm looking for. A glimpse of a visit to recall that we were never alone.
a sire
of Oliver
is spring
in Baganda
with carafe
here might
muse the
daughter in
craft and
slaughter now
leader for
features incumbent
in the
sprawl of
louche theatrics
to vanish
in mire
rain in LA
A M Ryder Dec 2019
Through the October night
Moonlight on metal
An evil companion to
My monster heart
And through the pain
I feel indifferent
I grapple with
The murdered words
I can never forget
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