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frosty crystals clung to
light shows on windowsills
they ran faster than their hands
could touch
on the run from racing time
streams of comfort left
rainy roads bare
to them,
nothing on earth compared
Irery May 15
Pink dream, cotton candy
Like a warm-hearted cancer
Snugged in my palm tightly
hushing my nightly distress with an answer.

Gently tuck you in my pillow case
Wish for calming waves to drift me away

Time after time, night after night
Second after second

Heavy-lids say farewell to
Non-existent slumber

Rose Quartz
sara May 7
When a flower begins to grow,
do you hear it cry?
Does it fret about the water supply,
or the illogical odds of snow?
In spring does it wish for the summer,
or that rather it grew by the lake?
No- it blooms without worry, with grace,
and this is Man’s biggest mistake.
when we slow down, and reconnect with ourselves, we realise our inner capability and potential. Stress negates abundance, don’t sleep on your true self x
Bella Apr 20
The red moon illuminates,
over the water,
crystals...
My stomach is pierced with blades,
thousands of them,
stars...
And darkness fills my empty heart,
dancing with the devil,
beauty...
But the deepest shades of gray,
will never be mine,
tragedy...
And if by the end, indeed I'm dead, cry,
tears in my memory, sweet
melodies...
But the red moon is painted with blood,
and it happens to be my veins,
luck...
And still the saddest birds cries it's tune,
bright in the early month of June,
love...
enjoy :)
Alien Nation
by Michael R. Burch

for J. S. S., a "Christian" poet

On a lonely outpost on Mars
the astronaut practices “speech”
as alien to primates below
as mute stars winking high, out of reach.

And his words fall as bright and as chill
as ice crystals on Kilimanjaro —
far colder than Jesus’s words
over the “fortunate” sparrow.

And I understand how gentle Emily
felt, when all comfort had flown,
gazing into those inhuman eyes,
feeling zero at the bone.

Oh, how can I grok his arctic thought?
For if he is human, I am not.

Note: The coinage “grok” appears in Robert Heinlein’s classic sci-fi novel "Stranger in a Strange Land." The novel’s protagonist, Valentine Michael Smith, was raised on Mars by enlightened Martians, and he often feels out of sorts on Earth, where he struggles to grok (understand deeply and profoundly) earthlings and their primitive, often inhuman, ways. Keywords/Tags: Mars, astronaut, alien, primates, stars, words, ice, crystals, Jesus, sparrow, Emily, Dickinson, zero, bone, arctic, thought, human, inhuman
MSunspoken Jan 16
Crystals form over time,
they may be  brittle
and sometimes easy to find
-Although-
the rarest crystals are most treasured,
but their beauty can also be manufactured
~
so what's the point?
LC Jan 1
their laughter drifts into the air.
her honey irises sparkle
every time his smile
warms up the room.
these moments with him
form sugar crystals.
the crystals are kept
close to her heart
as her love for him grows.
Äŧül Nov 2019
Hearts are not crystals
But still they shatter.
A heart has no brains
But tears it often rains.
Hearts have no eyes
But still detect lies.
So what exactly are hearts?
The Cardiac Paradox.
My HP Poem #1809
©Atul Kaushal
Obalo Jason Nov 2019
As I stare into space, I am reminded of her; nature's very canvas devoid of imperfections. Intoxicating like aged whiskey, were the pools of brown crystals she had for eyes. In place of lips were curled up rose petals. She had an innocuous smile, one that touched the abyss of melancholy and made it cheerful. She moved like spring; blooming everything in her path. To be lost in the warmth of her embrace and the santuary of her lips is what I long for...
For she is beauty, and beauty is her.
      
                                    -Jay
Sydney Nov 2019
Purple, shiny with edges, nooks, and crannies
Light bounces off and dances along the walls
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