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CautiousRain May 2016
Preguntame por qué la luz no la hará brilla,
o de qué manera
los arboles encinar transformaron
a ceniza y polvo,
consumen en el fuego,
y por qué nadie oyendo los gritos del bosque
llegaron para pagar sus respetos.

Estas soldados de madera necesitaron lluvia,
como lágrimas a la faz de una viuda afligida,
para calmar las llamas,
entonces, tomaron gotas de agua para pacificar sus dolores,
y en la noche, cuando todos era silencio
ellos dormían en el viento sin ansia,
como es el estado natural para madre tierra.

English version:
Ask me

Ask me why the light won't shine,
or how
the oak trees transformed
into ashes and dust,
consumed in the fire,
and why no one, hearing the cries of the forest,
came to pay their respects.

These wooden soldiers needed rain,
like tears in the face of a grieving widow,
to calm the flames,
so, they took drops of water to pacify their pains,
and at night, when all was silent
they slept without anxiety in the wind,
as is the natural state for Mother Earth.
Because it's been a while since I tried using spanish :P
Stefania S May 2016
i grew up in a patch
of green
low rolling hill
tumbling sky
red maple picnics
cool earth

roses at the chain link
spring's surprise
play dates out front
shoddy wooden hideaway
to the rear

woodpile-beware!
sister scarred
angry bees collect

red-shingled horizon
white shack
rear view
laundry-line perimieter
prison yard
beware
invisible fence line

irish drunks
right side
wife shouts
captures best friend
back-rear torment
pup trapped
evil about

boys and bruised knees
cheek kisses
and sunset
bike rides
snack spot
woods of death

the sky fed me
my roots
tightly woven
spanned, undisturbed

summer mornings
on the run
heat like fire
pebbles, glass
walking on

escape, run, be wild
dreams your navigator

loose teeth
mother's hugs
father's presence
marlboroughs
motor, artistically
deconstructed
colored red

powered escape hatch
off-license
long gone
tree trunk porch presence
dead bird picnic
red-slatted bridge

fruit spider visitor
tiny rodent winter traps
screaming zia
e mamma
adniamo
basta!

communion veil
st. albans bound
pappa, look!
gum stuck hair
and
ruined sleeve

tumbled jacks
fruit loop bed
times
mas*h
glass box
from the carpeted
haven
orange-smokey
scent

beat downs behind
the woodstove
hair-dragged reckonings
begging
cries

anger passed down
mother to
mother
to
brother
pray, midnight
smoke
sleepless-haunted
hell

i grew in no-man's land
POSSIBLE Apr 2016
Change my blood into gold
Elixer of life
A toked up martyr
  I must be philosopher ******

to be
so magical I transform change
the same I re-arrange
invert thought bubbles to elipse to make a circle out of cyst

Wand and Air
like pen and paper
convert the blank page to the strange
till the shoobies get ****** at the deviant sage

Hidden , covered by enigma...

Sometimes I write so hard I might just
Rip ya like paper
the message of saviors,
so heavy it topples the rules
like when the they drop bass in a rave yah

but treble not in ear sight,
As it breaks the music can also protect
what an insight.

Quarel with myself a couple times
like Quicksilver and sulfur

Purification
dissolution
death
and ressurection
dissolve and let loose
the fatal connections


Become alchemist like a potter and turn the clay to a vessel

IGNITE THE SPIRIT LEVEL
OVERCOME THE STRESSFUL
NIGREDO
ALBEDO
RUBEDO
RJ Days Apr 2016
Now hiding hearth and packing wools away
A careful tide arrives to mark changed towns
Chartreuse of verdant blooms commence decay
While we can’t stop what grows by leaps and bounds
Which soil holds firm or shifts beneath the clowns
It’s blind to glimpse so far as nations go
Unfaithful seed of those whose blood still grounds
Our stars and stripes which fly through ebb and flow
Mothers may darkly wail by morning glow
Seeking to raise their daughters to bright dawn
And burn hewn totems to some men they know
Dancing through smoke which wafts hither and yon
Yet fools by terror ******* and billions mocked
Win while we wait with angst by tics and tocs
My first Spenserian sonnet, expressing anxiety for the Republic.
Hannah Anderson Apr 2016
Slowly moving far far away, away form here

to run to the air to leave the strangest kind Summer

The weight of your problems tapping, sinking into you

the sweet air is leaving fast

I'd fly away if you saw me here


somebody, the one not paying attention

is bothering you

because they are missing it all
Slowly moving far far away, away form here

to run to the air to leave the strangest kind Summer

The weight of your problems tapping, sinking into you

the sweet air is leaving fast

I'd fly away if you saw me here


somebody, the one not paying attention

is bothering you
Hao Nguyen Apr 2016
To: Thomas

Message: hey did u reed that bok
bout Chauser cuz i didnt
get it.  Its jus 2 hard 2
read n i dont kno y
we r doin this.
I meen we r good @ talkin
in our english so y r we
reedin all of this ol ****?

Who needs it or even cares?

Canterbury Tales?  Mor lik
#icantspellbarytails!
LOL.  its like 2 long but
txt me bk cuz I dont get it
n ned help 4 the test.
TTYL, busy day sooo gotta g

~<3 Becky

Sent at 2:00pm April 2, 2011
This poem was created in an experimental form: texting.
aniket nikhade Mar 2016
Every opportunity comes in the form of a disguise
When an opportunity seems to be there, then many things seem possible
Initially, at the first instance only be absolutely sure as to whether or not an opportunity is available.
Once confirmed, then no point in looking back.
Time now to get hold of the things and make sure that the opportunity does not get out of hands.
Definitely every opportunity comes in the form of a disguise.

The disguise can be that of an odd, a challenge or some difficulty
It's absolutely important to be honest to your ownself, then the opportunity will not get out of hands.
What follows later is an experience gained from an opportunity that came along the way
Experiences have got an important place in everyone's life, good or bad comes later, much later.

Opportunities multiply when they are seized,
however, they die when neglected.

Nothing succeeds like success, same is with opportunity
Once an opportunity is seized upon,
time now to wait for the next.

Time alone can tell when the next opportunity will come,
till then keep your fingers crossed and wait for the same.
When the iron is hot, strike - John Heywood
Opportunities multiply as they are seized; they die when neglected - John Wicker
words elude my breaking sight,
dream, and dreams of forms
bear might.
built and forged upon the light, now -
it fails, consumed by night.

aloof the babe at mother breast,
forged a world, upon its flesh.
lines and form, subdued in sense,
amorphous matter - cracked and rent.

are true the words, which mask seeming?
or void held gaze, and lack of dreaming?
a man, a man, in restless slumber,
context born of lust and hunger.

can we see, a world past sight?
strip away the egos might?
a star, a star, throws out its light,
grasping for
the endless night.
semiotics and zen
Spenser Bennett Feb 2016
There's an impossibility standing adjacent to the nearest star bound body
It waves and beckons with a sincere familiarity so unnaturally
I am the end of the undulating tunneled vision
I am become a silhouette of a dead city caught in the decaying story bones fiction

We are all emptiness and our emptiness is how we define ourselves.
But our emptiness will become a river into which we will find the world to be held.
The universe exists in the eyes of those who live without the sight to see
Those breathing, freezing stars that burn into the heart buried deep.

Constructs of will and portions of strength cut out the guilt of my youth
All roads lead to the sky but I will not seek to understand you
Futures are made in blinks and beats
Are they aware of the way we lay with our tangled feet under these threadbare sheets?

Follow the light of my darkness
A single shot of whiskey and a conversation whisks away my heart's hardness
All cool and breezy across the great green oceans
I'll meet you halfway between loss and a facsimile of dreamed emotions
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