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April Hapner Jul 2018
I lay here watching
Which layers are spinning...
And what direction?
My mind dissects the clouds
Like a fog being burned by sunlight...
During the late morning.

This pattern above me
Rather pleasing... yet confusing...
I'm on the right,
I find it yielding left...

There's designs I can't name
Animals I can make...
Yet they all run away as I move
And the clouds spin trails...
Watching them evolve
Like a lifelong time lapse.

The drawn up moisture....
The streams of steam condensed...
Swirled and forged into cotton-like pillows of uncertainty.
The colors are the Indicators of moods
The light and mysterious
White and normal
Green and envious of the oncoming destruction
Black and gray depicting ends of sunshine filled days...

The life underneath grows, quivers, and in series of decays...
Some offer condensed clouds as flavored swirls in mugs...
But I rather watch the ones that love
Carrying wind and rain...
Have swirls of their own and a Name.

Though subject of objections
The will of nature has a forge...
To churn this stream of water around
Like spun sugars of cotton candy.
Much like a carnival, life is a surprise
An unyielding wild ride.

Directions are unclear
If i will be here
I have watched the life of
The swirl in this giant mug
Smack the coastlines with giant hugs...
Some rough love...

Though oddity
Have you seen what clouds can do
When spun around oak trees?
I am a Hurricane Hugo [1989] survivor.
I enjoy weather and thunderstorms.
Once I dreamt of being a meteorologist.
There used to be a 100 year old oak tree outside my bedroom window. During the eye of the storm we notice the tree was turned. In fact you could see the disruption in the earth... as roots were twisted around and almost braided. The tree was uprooted and twisted like a tick... And survived for years after that storm. By far... the most interesting tree story I have.
Kon Grin Aug 2017
They allure and bid us to
Stay content in freezing cool
August night and sleep beside
The ones that kiss beneath the starry light

They consent each promise to expire
For no word shall bond a folk agile.
For a pang in heart must drive
Those willing to abide to loving right

And on August Night
A slumber army of blue lanterns will proclaim
Them the citizens of realm of pristine men

And thus in pitch
Of darkness full of heavenly within
The stars will swallow sin.
(And kiss you on a chin)
Been busy with the band and music. Love you all for being here when muse breaks out. Has just finished Les Miserables.
He sleeps. An enigma, his life bereft -
He lived then died once his angel had left.
It happened as simply as anything might,
As from day there follows the coming of night.
The poem at the end of my favourite book. Presumably co.mposed by Marius Pontmercy to honour the life of Jean Valjean. One day I hope to translate Les Miserables in full, until then, here's a very small section of it.
It's a tale of revolution and dread
Where most characters wind up dead
Some end up insane
Some end up in the Seine
And all of this over some bread
evocatory Sep 2015
Demain, dès l’aube, à l’heure où blanchit la campagne,
Je partirai. Vois-tu, je sais que tu m’attends.
J’irai par la forêt, j’irai par la montagne.
Je ne puis demeurer **** de toi plus longtemps.

Je marcherai les yeux fixés sur mes pensées,
Sans rien voir au dehors, sans entendre aucun bruit,
Seul, inconnu, le dos courbé, les mains croisées,
Triste, et le jour pour moi sera comme la nuit.

Je ne regarderai ni l’or du soir qui tombe,
Ni les voiles au **** descendant vers Harfleur,
Et quand j’arriverai, je mettrai sur ta tombe
Un bouquet de houx vert et de bruyère en fleur.
Ludapoetry Dec 2014
Dear Ernesto Hugo de Castro,
Keep breathing and keep thinking,
we'll remember that somewhere,
along the lines, you were there
since you have something to gain.

I like reading your poems and poetry,
I also like that you express yourself clearly,
I also like that you know how life does hurts
and I like your ruthful and inspiring works.
I love knowing your writing and trueness,
I also love how reaching perfection you do,
and, last but not least, I also love you.

- Ludapoetry
Thank you, Ernesto Hugo de Castro, for your poetry

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