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under one roof
were the dreams,
was the beginning
when love was in bloom
under one roof
we loved and lived,
we touched and kissed,
we laughed with kids
under one roof
but then we strayed
from the dreams we saw
the boundaries we laid
under one roof
but we try to compromise
even when love dies
and the worse times arrive
under one roof
and I may have wronged
but I still long
to have a strong bond
under one roof
so please for our family's sake
the future of kids is at skate
let us happily stay
under one roof

© Ali Ashraf
Her eyes tell a story
Of anger and pain,
You think she is happy
But just look again.

Hidden under her clothes
Are the scars of her past,
A roadmap to places
She finds herself at last.

The tears rushing down
As she tries to lift her chin,
Her heart at a shatter
This fight, she won’t win.

Her smile is now painted
A master of disguise,
And you can see it all
Just look into her eyes.
JDL Nov 5
Let’s get married, it’ll be fun
It was ****
Let's get pregnant, we’ll have a son
False trust
Let’s have another child, we had twins
About to bust
Let’s go to counseling, it’s time to mend
They must
Let’s get a divorce, it’s the fix
It was ****
The son and the twins caught in the mix, born of ****, lack of trust, product of divorce, about to bust, to mend, get counseling they must, anything but fun
Sharon Oct 31
Remember when you were 6?
Spinning dizzy in the laughing sun?
I could play chasey till I doubled over,
Running, eating and laughing all at once!

Childhood gives way to "adult" realities.
Carefree running to silent, sober reflections.
That merry river.. now more often a motionless pond.

With a half-smile I wonder,
At the innocence which so freely played,
Thoughtless of harm.
Before such "adult" words like: fatal, divorce, disorder,
Ever applied to me.
Sometimes I find my feelings shut down. This morning I thought back to simpler times..
J L James Oct 23
Doing what we think is best

In memoriam of the  once shared nest.

Vanished love stained with tears,

Over the head over heels years.

Regrets remain so raw they peel

Cuts ****** deep only time can heel.

Empty now the heart beats on.
Feeling out an Acrostic poem.
Blank mind and blind eyes...

Things I wish to have when I see holding hands and newly couple laughter...


A beautiful thing really...

But now my life is filled to see pure destruction..

Just a volcano waiting on its day for the massacre of its self eruption...

My very parents lied in my face every night as they would try and comfort me holding me tight hoping my eyes don’t realize what’s unraveling before me..

They were falling apart....

Yet in my world they were perfect together like birds and the bees and they moved swiftly through any situation like the way wind blows through the trees....

But just like Mother Nature works in a cycle I slowly became to realize that my parents were a prime example of “not everything is perfect”

6th grade with no phone and no worry in the world but to make it home on time...

I began to feel it...

Those early morning of getting dropped off kissing my mother on her cheek telling her I love her began to drift....

Disappearing before my eyes like holding sand through the ocean..

The long 5 minutes of waiting by the back gate for her to pick me up became absent....

Excuse after excuse but to her they were reasons I slowly became depending on myself..

Who at the time that’s all I had yet you’d never guess I was sad cause this cheesy kid hid behind those wide cheeks and reused jokes....

Lost in confusion searching for conclusion as to why the most perfect thing I see in the world will not be...

I began to search for someone I can have for a lifetime because what Love came to me seemed To be a feeling that’s only  momentary from a drive that’s merely temporary cause people can’t seem to find a way to keep themselves satisfied

Those birds became vultures eating and picking into dead weak flesh

Those bees became maggots seeping out of the trash of lost love

The wind was silent

The trees withered away in decay


A beautiful thing really...
Written over time I’ve finally built the courage to finish this...
She Writes Oct 20
Our love
Was destined to fail
Instead of seeing me
For all the things I was
You saw me
For all the things I was not
It took me a long time to realize I was good enough all along.
The anger grows larger than the hurt.
The tide changes, disappointment floats away.
Resentment seeps in deep, to the marrow, and takes it's place.
There was a time that I was so hurt and disappointed in my lover but as time wore on, anger developed. It was such an anger as I had never felt before. I no longer carry that with me, though.
All of a sudden the "are you okay texts?"
flooded in.
That's when it hit me.
My father had a disease he couldn't
control anymore,
and my mother decided she couldn't
do it any longer.
I'm not sure how many night he left
hoping to find the answers
at the bottom of a bottle,
but I don't think he ever will.
And now we're left with
split up holidays
and not just two broken hearts,
but four.
My backpack ready for anything, I left for a voyage across the pond. As fellow passengers climb aboard I met a 27 year old traveling musician named Russ carrying his cajòn. He told me of his travels from Massachusetts and pending divorce. We related on this and exchanged CD's. Behind us sitting on the Ferry were two young girls working on a puzzle. Russ imposed himself and tried to impress them with his musical endeavors. These girls were in America from Germany attending college. One was 17 and the other was 18 but I am sure they knew better than to play into his hand. After talk of language and culture we disembarked. Russ invited me to his show that night but I had plans to meet a girl at a board game pub. I walked to the bus stop while smoking my pipe and caught the number 40 from downtown to a trendy neighborhood up north.

After I stepped off I found myself amongst the overgrown players of games and drinkers of fine beer. Brittany arrived and we chatted over IPA's. I explained my recent challenges to get the topic of divorce out of the way before we left for Mexican food. She was very open in saying I should play the field and not have a serious relationship. I agreed with her take but could not read her as well as I had hoped. She said I need to get the rebounding out of the way and explained that she too is struggling with commitment. Being 34 with no marriage or children under her belt she feels that therapy is essential to figuring this out.

We walked to our happy hour destination and shared Nacho's while drinking "Colorado Kool-Aid". Both of us having spent a lot of time in Denver we could relate on much but I felt there was an elephant in the room. Afterwards we walked to a nearby record store and browsed while talking about music and interests. She needed to leave soon having obligations to housesit and watch pets. Dog walking is her profession since her departure from the world of corporate accounting. We walked to her unkempt sedan and she gave me a ride back downtown. We talked of hanging out again but our schedule may not permit for some time. I wonder if she will entertain my company without reservation, only time will tell.

I decided to phone my old friend from Denver who lives near and devise another plan for the evening. The sun was still shining and I had no reason to return home yet. I walked to a nearby brew pub while waiting for him to meet me. I sat at the bar with another traveler named Dave. He is an airline pilot close to retirement from the state of Texas. We talked about my time in the Navy and my pending legal woes. He's been proudly married for 30 years and counts his blessings that he is still in harmony with his wife. My friend decided to meet me at a concert in close proximity to my date with Brittany. Once again I would take the number 40 uptown. Dave bought my IPA and gave me words of encouragement and complimented my persona. It meant a lot and I thanked him as I said goodbye.

While waiting for the bus I asked for information from a woman in her early 50's. She works for a tech company nearby but was happy to help as I had a more pleasant vibe than most of her young, urban, unprofessional colleagues. While unsure of my way she directed my move to get off at the next stop. I walked up the hill another seven blocks to the show. While smoking my pipe along the way another bus rider was two steps ahead named Nate. He was curious about my pipe tobacco and we gave brief anecdotes about ourselves. He offered to buy me a quick beer before my concert. I took him up on this offer as we walked into a nearby market. He purchased several large cans of domestics and afterwards we headed back down the dark boulevard towards the Abbey drinking our brew. As I arrived at the former church venue we parted ways peacefully.

I ventured into the bustling scene concealing my open container while finding my friend. I sat just as the opening act started. We enjoyed three musical performances but the star of the show was the beautiful woman from Denver that we both enjoyed during our time there. Feeling that we should explore the venue where Russ was performing we made our way there. I was sad to discover the brewery was shutting down before 10pm and the band was long gone. We decided to walk to the nearby singles bar playing music so loudly it could be heard from a block away. This strange place was crawling with many folks of the beautiful sort but nothing seemed to be attractive about it. We had a glass of wine and a shot of bourbon. I spoke to the fellow DJ for a moment but there was no dancefloor to be found. We decided to venture on.

We walked up and down the avenue and discovered another Mexican food restaurant, beaming with the young and the foolish. Our community seating was met with overly affectionate couples to our left and valley girls to our right. Our Tequila mules hit the spot with our Nacho's and late night platter. The girls spoke of Denver people which I thought strange. Why so much co(lorado)-incidence in one evening? I injected myself into the discussion and was met with friendly conversation. Unable to finish my Nacho's I knew I had fulfilled my share of fun for the night. This was the fourth time I had eaten nachos this week. We proceeded back to the urban adventure wagon and made our way to the slums of the tech-boom. My 2am slumber was met with an air mattress of great quality and woolen blankets.

I awoke at 7am to the clouded sunlight peering through the sliding glass door. I laid awake with my stomach turning from the many Nachos not yet digested. I browsed my phone for more potential and found two exotic beauty's, one from the Philippines and another from Brazil. Both much younger and too much for the eyes, we started talking throughout the rest of the day in a digitally romantic sort of way. My housemates called me about needing to move my car for restriping the parking lot. Fortunately I left my keys so they were able to do this for me. I smoked my pipe on the patio while my friend "hit the gym". When he returned we decided to walk through the arboretum by the university and enjoy the sunny autumn day. Afterwards he dropped me off by the ferry where I waited an hour drinking beer at the commuter dive.

My conversations continued with my teeter totter of worldly women. One had invited me to meet her before I go to work at 10:30pm but this plan fell short due to her friend running late for a planned dinner which would carry into what little free time I had to sleep or even eat. During my ferry ride home I walked up and down the passenger compartment looking for a fellow rider to play cribbage. I had no such luck and headed for the observation deck. While the city vanished behind us I struck up a conversation with a young lady from Manchester who had just returned to living in the US. We talked about the nature of selfies and the conflict of living in the moment. As we spoke a man approached me who had overheard my request for a card game. We walked back inside and sat next to an abandoned puzzle with pieces scattered about the deck. Mark introduced himself and we shook hands. It was not until he shuffled and dealt the cards that I realized this 45 year old Asian man only had one arm. His ability to shuffle and deal was impressive. His skill with cribbage was more than rusty, after one game I had a victory so great I felt guilty. He too is going through divorce and seeking a new job. It was a great way to pass the time with a fellow passenger.

As I readied myself for the porting I noticed a familiar face, a young sailor I served with in Mississippi. Our time spent together was met with sorrow as we faced similar career challenges. I had not seen him for several months but he almost did not recognize me. I had lost 50 pounds, left the Navy and become single all in a matter of a few months. I assured him I was on the dawn of newfound joy and wished him luck on his upcoming deployment. I patted him on the head as he seems like such a lovable scamp to me at this point. I exited the terminal to saunter back home. I smoked my pipe while crossing the bridge enjoying the last hour of sunlight.

I settled my belongings at home while serving myself a can of chili and a cold IPA on draft from my housemates tap. I joined him for the end of a baseball game in the den and shared a few moments with my community. I slept for a couple hours and then made my way to work. So much can happen in a day.
Not poetry, but what is life, if not poetry in motion?
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