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Mohammad Skati Feb 2015
There are waves that                                                                                                Look like mountains and                                                                                         There are mountains that                                                                                       Look like waves ...                                                                                                    There are clouds that                                                                                                Look like winds and                                                                                                Winds that look like clouds ...                                                                                 There are seas that                                                                                                    Like like skies and                                                                                                     There are skies that                                                                                                         look like seas ...                                                                                                     There are many images                                                                                       In life that look like other images                                                                        Here and there ...................... .
jerely Feb 2015
If I can write your mind by words and an everlasting strokes of emotions and weaknesses over you, i'll write you a love song and will never stop until my hands go bleed...

If I can speak to your heart to mine I'll respond every questions that you'd asked for me a long time ago...

If I can see to your eyes how you'd wanting the ocean and the silence that needs to secure then I'd grab your hand and hold it for a moment...
unfinish poet

Jerelii
Copyright
02.03.15
horseloversmyth Jan 2015
Witch-hazel blooms in the winter light
Upon the grey rocky mountains’ height
A lady comes upon it and she weeps to see it bloom
So close to the winter and the snow comes too soon

Witch-hazel bough in this lady’s hair
She hears the owl call from its hidden lair
In the dark where her love’s gone and she must follow soon
Now that the snows covered over the witch-hazel bloom
Witch hazel is one of my favorites plants. It is unique because it flowers in November or December when most other plants are deep in hibernation. Nice to see something bloom out of season, kind of keeps the spirit alive in the dark cold time.
Pangs of loneliness
creep like shadows
and fleeting images
sad and solemn
of truants hiding
stealthy as the slide of tides
observed with half-closed eyes
finding freedom in perversity
and the serenity of silence.
Maybe I was misinformed,
Or simply couldn’t understand,
what it meant to go,
from a boy to a man,
where's picasso when you need someone,
to paint a vivid picture,
so these distinct images in my head,
will soon become a work of art.
All Rights Reserved 2015 @justakiddnamedsmoove
Hanna Baleine Nov 2014
Remember curiosity,
The reek of home,
Sleeping with a
Mouthful of fevers.

Remember gold,
Roasted muscles,
The shackles in your thighs.

Remember me,
When you discovered
Hearts of past lovers
Live in your fingernails.

Remember you,
A mad-driven star,
Biting waves with such
Honeydew eyes.

Remember patience,
Threaded into your skin with
Pear tree splinters.

Remember:
Even God knows limits.
What is real?
What isn't?
Is anything anymore?
I can't tell
I don't know if I'm real
I'm lost
Who am i?
What do i like?
What don't i like?
Who is real?
Are you?
Can you prove it?
No.
No one can.
We're guessing.
Assuming.
I need to know you're real
One day I'll fall and trust you to catch me
Will you really be there to save me?
Or will i fall through the air and into a bottomless pit of nothing?
Anna Elise Oct 2014
I put my roots in warmth
and what is comfortable
sending them down
thick and deep into the soil
only to be stopped
by the desires of others
uprooting and replanting me
over and over
while my leaves wither
curling in on themselves
for dislike of
change.
Amitav Radiance Oct 2014
Take a deep breath
And close your eyes
Images comes rushing
You thought may have faded
From the memory
Yet, they now come back
Where had they been?
Hiding, when the eyes were open
Now in silence
You start reliving those events
You were a part of
Marred with sadness or
Joyous moments you cherished
Take a long breath
You are overwhelmed
With the rush of images
So profound
Yet, you were not aware
With eyes open
But they had been locked away
And closing your eyes
You looked inward
Unlocking the secret vault
It’s quite a time
When the mind goes berserk
Creating a turmoil
In the usual life of yours
A small storm
Which rocked the boat
Images are profound
Sarah LeClair Oct 2014
I
“I didn’t know anything”

Astrapia,
the beautiful arcs of plum and golden
wrap in you a security.
It is disconcerting to see you know
so little--
to not see such daunting arcs
for rhetoric.
Hold steady.

II
“about the facts of life and that I didn’t know that I would conceive or so on.”

Misconceptions most fed,
generational ignorance liberating
throb and leisure and pleasure and…

Seemingly perfectly perched.
Feathery flow and bend
swoons over the exotic excitement
naturally--
unknowingly.
The color flushes,
flashing bright, a melting beauty.  
To know of this must be to know serenity…

III
“I stayed with him and he said he loved me.”

Every
prismatic fiber
is yours.

IV
“He said this was the only true way to show that you loved somebody.”

Paradise, what alluring shades you show.
The better to attract you, my love.
Oh, what mysterious gaze you hold.
The better to captivate you, my love.
Oh, what sturdy frame you stand.
The better to surround you, my love.
Oh, what fierce talons you stretch.
The better to clutch you, my dearest love.



V
“And I met him again then, and he said, Well you did it before; why can’t you do it now?”

He reaches for her once more,
as if for lifetimes
this had been the norm.
She settles in the familiarity and
loveliness that is,
or so would seem.
Neither flushed
nor melting,
with one door another opens.

“And that was the time I got pregnant.”
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