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AE Oct 2018
Sometimes there are words on blank pages,
If you look closely enough.
Sometimes there is music in the silence,
If you listen closely enough.
But it all comes down to if you see it,
The spaces between the letters,
The messages in my whispers,
Or my cunning subtlety that screams in your face.
Sometimes my eyes recite poetry,
But you’d have to look into them to know.
Sometimes there are prayers in my blank stares,
And sometimes my silence is a drum.
K Balachandran May 2018
clouds mumble secrets,
rain’s mysterious chatter;
Evoking unknown!
Clay Feet Nov 2015
Forlorn beauty-child
Living in my night
Crying in your dream.
Sounds of sorrow
Linger in the morning mist
Of subdued consciousness.

Troubled water falls
From awakened red eyes
That searched inside loneliness  
Only to find more.

Now...

Behind my faceted face
Your countenance lingers...
I glance quickly within,
You disappear!

Your gaze lit my shadowed mind.
Your presence was there waiting
For me…

A Sonata…
A Fantasy  
A Major key bright-shining
Singing sunbeams to lift me.

After the music...

Shards of shattered dreams
Scattered like felled icicles
lying in the sun, melting into mulch      
They dawned bright green
Pipers on Scottish dew.

The mourning moon is
Catchlight in your eyes
Bright Bird...

Captivating sailors
Reaching down evoking vulnerable
Aspects held so long secret...

— The End —