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Dante Rocío Sep 10
It is sharpening crimson steel in a knife as of that, with it fingers softly bleed like care and rise as a shuttered peach in
a sturdy piece of scarlet, paid in heed.

Your foreboding onthou my skin is no more truly nor less rigid unplugging of violin strings out of a guttural chords into a straight morbid fire, and a pain structure
hardens, straightens,
embeds them forever into every light’s riddance, this trial mended.
Welcomed fireflies in a
solstice. bonfire. forest. [stygian].

Love, my dearest Love, if your ever evanescent body or voice even exists:
if I ever dare to greet in my tears music it only may be to bleed with you in one common fluid, to have my ribs torn gently by
each your promise barely for my hand’s taking,
endure time to have my truer form by you,
a sensation, clad in lilac velvet that goes
under the name of “Paper Airplane” by
my thoughts.

To keep.
More than as rain we always are.

A child picked up a solitary chalk and sketching protruded some things by that hand & sight, some sun with injustice drawn, that elders’ words and acts
have not put up.

Some of the chalk simply lays everyday crushed.
With no human passage, luggage.
No matter how hard I’ll come to cry
Never shall I reject my waters.
My Love, you who kiss me further and further
Without lips or anything to align,
I wish for you to never earn a step or body,
And to marry my sand-sea plaited follies.
Be veritable Garden Song.
Mark Toney Aug 14
A chance encounter
a snapshot in time
life's random moments
are simply sublime

© 2020 by Mark Toney. All rights reserved.
8/14/2020 - Poetry form: Rhyme - © 2020 by Mark Toney. All rights reserved.
Cyril May 21
I'm just a shadow
An unfamiliar name with a strong desire
to learn everything about your existence
Cyril May 21
I have met love behind a blaze of fire
A pretty face bathed in warm light;
glowing like beacon
in the stillness of the night
Then came her gaze
like a peaceful lightning strike

Veiled in modesty
as she appears in plain sight
She, a velvety sculpture
yet rigid to touch
A shallow man is nothing
but a fool to her desires
I have met love
and her heart burns with mine
Inspired by the movie "Portrait of a Lady on Fire"
Words' Worth Apr 21
The stars
Sees us
As a grain
Of salt
You have power over your
mind - not outside events. Realize this, and you will find strength.
mari Mar 18
The memory will never fade,
and when I think about it,
it still makes my heart ache.

„What brings you here, stranger?” she asked.

Her tone was strangely indifferent, she seemed as though she went through this before.  

„I have come to slay a beast.” A wave of regret washed over me.

It was foolish to admit to someone like her, who seemed to hold the place dear.

„There are many beasts here, including you and me.“
„Will you please slay me, then?”
VKBoy Mar 12
O, plebs and gentlefolks
Open your eyes to art
Finger your ears to tune
And lend your hearts to life
For she is on the way
To rock you every way
And rid you of cliche
With her feminal sway.
Have a gander at this wonder
But beware the hunger
O, busy humanity
As you hear my plea of spirity
Through the mandolin of clarity
So you salvage your sanity
Whip your vanity
And let go of mundanity
For hopeful cords are her hairs
Cyanic berries are her eyes
Blushing cherries are her lips
And so good is her smile
The next thing you know
Romance is on the rise.
A song by Yohann Rosenthal, a character of Shambala Sect.
Gorba Feb 18
Det var länge sen, vi såg varandra
En dag som jag aldrig kommer glömma
Vi satt på soffan hos mig, det var lugnt då
Två själar i ett ***, verkligen lyckliga och fria
Åtminstone, jag minns att det kändes så
Vi tittade på en film, vars titel jag inte kommer nämna
För att det är för svårt att komma ihåg detta
Så svårt att fokusera
När det finns en sån tjej som sitter så nära
Ett ansikte, en kropp, en sinnesstämning, idealiska
Jag kunde inte sluta begrunda
Jag håller på att ordna och skriva
Allt som virvlar just nu i min hjärna
”Jag har tur!”, kan jag väl påstå
För sen, vi gick till sovrummet och fick komma
Så nära som natur kan tillåta
Under en natt som blev den tredje och sista
Innan du bestämde dig att flytta tillbaka
Nu, känns det konstigt för att du är borta
Är det ett riktigt minne eller drömde jag?  
Livet är som en berg- och dalbana
Som man inte riktigt har kontroll på
Fast, det finns en sak som du kan göra
Varje dag, ta ett steg baklänges bara
Utan att titta över axlarna
Titta hellre upp på himlen, du kan gärna stirra
Kanske ser du åter en hund som rider en sköldpadda
Tänka på mig och börja skratta
Tills du är tvungen att sluta gå
För det finns nån som står i vägen
Nån som kanske gjort detsamma
Med ögonen fast på molnen
Om jag skulle vara helt ärlig, måste jag avslöja
Att i hemlighet, hoppas jag det blir jag
Det låter självisk förstås, det vet jag
Men det är väl min dikt så jag får bestämma
Resten av historien kommer jag inte berätta
Det är bara att tänka sig
”Den som lever får se”.
Let's visit our sacred space,
Pray for blessings of grace,
Pray for an encounter with the Lord,
If it all came true, we'd all be awed,
Personal encounters with grace,
Hidden, but not far, in our sacred space.
Feedback welcome.
B00ks101 Oct 2019
Loud drums in the distance, we ran to find their beat.
Outside Maternity stood a huge Sikh throng,
clapping in time, with dance and song.
What unexpected spectacle this and we join in full of joy.

"Its a boy! It's a boy!
It's a boy!"
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