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Mikaila Oct 2014
I'd sit with you every night
And gaze silent at the moon
The moon whose fingertips trace your jaw
And your lips and your cheeks
With light, with silver.
I would sit beside you
And hold your hand
And feel your heartbeat change me through the silk of your skin
And try to stay with you
As I always do
As a Universe of love races through my veins
And lifts my bones from the inside out
And breathes me in and up as if the stars
Would consume me
Would own me
Would gather in my chest and all burst at once
Into flame,
I
Would sit completely quiet and still
As I felt the black sky, like an ocean, close above my head
And rock me into dreams of your clear eyes
And saturate my skin with days and years.
You should know that I
Would follow that elusive path the moon tosses on the waves
Satin and diamond given breath
Given life
To lead me home to where you are.
I would kneel before the pale face of the moon
And cup my hands full of soft white light
And sing your name to the wild sea
And listen to it crash its echo back,
Over and over forever.
And it would shape lands. It would swallow the earth,
Searching, asking for you,
Like the waves that never give up their grasping for the shore
Leave glittering drops in offering, in worship,
In a promise that they will always return, pulled by the distant light of a love so powerful
It can tame even the savagery of the sea-
Even the very thundering surf which can twist great ships into splinters with its passion
And pull the strongest souls to the center of the earth
With a simple sigh.
This vast, fierce, brutal titan
Bows to tenderness. To light. To
Love
Of you.
And I would follow you
To the blackest edge of the sea
Where the darkness of depth is so complete that it becomes the spread of the night sky...

And I would sit with you on the hood of your car, looking at the moon
And hold your hand.
AmberLynne Jul 2014
Your blithesome nature
overwhelms my aching soul.
If I am honest
I must tell you that you are
simply extraordinary.
Luna Jul 2014
There will be a point one day when people tell you that your tall tales and wondrous dreams aren’t real.
Do not believe them. Not now, not ever. Your dreams will be your own to share and live and you tell them to back away, and you keep a tight hold on them, you hear? They’ll always give you hope.
There will come a time when you feel being extraordinary is something that doesn’t matter anymore. Well then, think again, because you always have been extraordinary and you’d better keep that going, because my god you are good at it.
You look so alive today, and all I can think is that after everything, you turned out amazing, so you sure as anything keep doing whatever it is that you did, because you did it right.
Anthony Williams Jul 2014
There was no earthquake
no shattering birth
raging against the pane of existence
sending butterflies cowering behind glass
and wolves baying over a bloodless loss
in a forest where one tree falls to a soulmate
breaking free from clutter with a passionate flair
like a newly clustered sun's first real pulse
of living light
flung into a dark sky to dwell on its joy
at brightening its view of the universe

when I met you

there was no pepper spray
of subdued stinging elation
burning under my skin
when you climbed over everything
and demonstrated against
all I had ever defined
choking the air with a perfume
so hot it welded every flower
within miles into a single staggering
placard blowing me into a garden paradise
from where winds were strengthened
with a strange unprotesting fascination
only guessed at by curious angels
only sensed as the singular truth
amidst the nonsense of existence
by a philosophical idealist

when I met you

there was no starving ants' nest
hunger to consume you morsel by morsel
carry the idyllic seeds aloft in triumphal succession
and acclaim the day as evermore celebrated
store the piecemeal plot as sacred land
my eternal home to build on as we will
and relishing the daily harvest
the piled to spilling their vanity fruits
of Aphrodite's labouring shaken womb
by putting your heaving bodice of attraction
on display where the highest peak
looks up at your shockingly favoured nature
and in its warm shade curls up
contrite

when I met you

on a never to be exceeded
memory pillow of accomplished desire
below the tree line where it melts
the final crystals of snow
and rolls over on to its back
hard time ink tattoos giving way
to slipped on morning lipstick
like a puppy wanting a rub of its tummy
discovering the pleasures of green grass
on its first summer
of life

when I met you

there was no play of your fingers
skimming down my back
touching every vital chord
of merciless disharmony
tormenting the hell out of me
with a soft on my eyes stream
of exotically attired tireless servants
loyal only to our exchanged look of adoration

when I met you

performing in concert with your lithe body
by suddenly trumpeting the flash of lightening
generated by a momentary show
of everything you possess not static
and worn to part plush glimpses skin on skin
from shifting notes dripping under lazy dresses
dropping their quavers on to velvet carpet
and rubbing in the salted healing potion
you drummed up on quiet sleepless nights
inside a perfection of smooth conniving visions
bolting the bedroom of mad freedoms from inside
and banishing every other maiden's swan song
from this man's dreams of orchestral piece

when I met you

I found only the more
perfect body
personality
kindness
and love
and that
my dear one
was more than I deserve

way way beyond
what I couldn't find
what will ever be
envisioned
enough

when I met you

to think maybe the other bits
will follow
but it doesn't have to be so

when I meet you
and meet you more
by Anthony Williams
Et cetera Jun 2014
A nobody is
a person
of no importance.
But you, my dear
are important to me
as you always shall be.

So if you're anything
you're not a nobody.

But if you insist
on being
a nobody,
well then
I'll humour you.

And say
you're a nobody.

But allow me
to elaborate.

You are a nobody
bent on being
a somebody.
And the only thing
stopping you
from being
Somebody,
is nobody.

And hence,
we deduce,
that you
are a nobody
that is a
somebody.

Beautiful albeit damaged
by life.
Strong albeit afraid
of yourself.
Strange albeit familiar
to me.
And very
Extraordinary.

Yes, you're a nobody.

~Moniba.
cosmic poet May 2014
im so tired of ordinary
I need extraordinary
I crave a life filled with magic in the smallest of things
and love riddled with passion and never having to endure boredom
my heart is so closed off
can it open enough to feel a touch of love
it doesn't even have to be love
I just want something more
something extraordinary
Traci Eklund May 2014
Some things we loose, while others we gain.
When we take chances and put ourselves and hearts on the line
any day is exceptional.
No day is ordinary,
for an ordinary day is when I met you.
An "ordinary" day changed my life.
I met you in my favourite season,
I was wearing my favourite touque.
You were foreign to me...
exceptional, mysterious and cute.
The blood stains on your canvas pants like a piece of art.
The body of a doe in your bare hands, disturbing yet beautiful.
The wildness that coursed through your veins,
the life in your eyes...
I always knew I'd find the man of dreams
in the forest surrounded by trees.
Although it was in a parking lot beside the naked hardwood
fate brought me to you.
Late night procrastination brought me to you.
Under ordinary circumstances
came extraordinary outcomes.
We loose what is less to gain what is more
fate brought me to you
an ordinary day became extraordinary
and grew forever more... <3
27/12/2013
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