The poet wished to cry out loud
And vent the slithering pain
Yet void in his sinking heart
Won't let him flee this blain.

The pen then oozed in torrid red
To scribe 'bout the hovering gloom
Yet mind feared to find the words
Which would write the poet's doom

If the poet broke his promise
No flower would ever bloom
So pen hid the poet's torment
Within a heap of silken plumes.


Prashant Shaurya ©
All Rights Reserved

The pen rambled across the pad
To write something untrue
Yet mind and heart did seldom see
When the pen hid it's rue.

Mind could think but heart would long, for
Insidious days to part
Yet pen would foster spilling of
Blood from the wounded heart.

Verses written in sparkling red
Couldn't sort the haze around
A poet caught in the vicious fray
Wouldn't want to be homebound.

Prashant Shaurya ©
All Rights Reserved

I see other people
And they’re happy two by two
It’s like they all know
Exactly what they should do.
They smile sweetly
They hug and hold hands
TheY talk to each other
And seem to understand.

They look into their eyes
And don’t quickly look away
And seem to be listening
To what the other has to say.
The smiles are frequent
And so is the cheerful laughter.
It seems they are well into
Their happily ever after.

Two minus one
The mathematics of my story.
Plenty of guts
But never that much of glory.
There must be something
I have not learned to do
That makes one plus one
Add to up to a decent two.

Going out to dinner
With couples is quite a trial.
Everyone gets uncomfortable.
I quit doing it after a while.
It hurts to see happiness
When you aren’t getting much.
The reminders are constant
With their every loving touch.

Two minus one
The mathematics of my story.
Plenty of guts
But never that much of glory.
There must be something
I have not learned to do
That makes one plus one
Add to up to a decent two.

july hearne Jul 3

~ "and you sang, 'Sail to me, sail to me',
let me enfold you:
here I am, here I am,
waiting to hold you.

Did I dream you dreamed about me?
Were you hare when I was fox?"~

"Song to the Siren"- Larry Beckett/Tim Buckley

........................................................­.............................................

after i saw The Wicker Man,
i was so disturbed
i had to tell someone
so i told the security guard kid
at work one friday night as i was leaving late
but he had only seen the Nicholas Cage remake
he was a nice boy training to be an EMT

it stayed with me for days,
the squealing pigs, the Lord is my shepherd i shall not want,
little existent-fluid Rowan,
brain drugs for children,
the fool on his way there

a perfect arrangment

everyone is hoping for a bountiful harvest,
especially the shrike

what could go wrong
so many lovers for Kitty
it goes on and on
all the sexy ways to butcher something
in the grass

she likes the predatory feel,
not quite as badass as hooks,
but the needles in her chest
make her feel like she is flying

she meets a new friend to choke
her magic blanket gets soaked
so many lovers for Kitty
she sticks a fifth rod in
because every woman needs to feel pretty

Luna Marie Apr 27

Before we had divided,
We loved each other to no end,
Until you had crossed the line.

When our paths again collided,
My idea of you started to bend.
You got me thinking about when you were mine.

You just want my innocence.
You don't really want my heart.
Maybe you just hate the thought of me loving someone new.

You just liked my appearance.
And now that we're apart,
Is this your way of making sure that I'm not getting over you?

Help me let go of you.

Suddenly
The world is still and
The flutter of wings
In my stomach
Has hushed
And I can see
You drifting
Before I've felt
Your touch.
Never have I
Known a soul
That mirrored mine
So much.

11/9/16

..
I long for an ideal love,
But I cannot spin on a reel,
Tape myself with magnetic
Energy, that lights up rooms.

I pine for an ideal love,
But I cannot enter a screen
That flashes imaginary truth
In dimly, dear lit theatre halls.

Why is pain so real, so concrete?
Why is joy so abstract, illusory?


I ache for an ideal love,
More actual than godly stars,
Lovers living within golden light,
Always faithful, printed on film.

Why is isolation so universal, so dark?
Why do only movie idols glow, spark?

lynnia hans Jan 24

coasting waters lap gently across the shore
shimmering crystals dance playfully in the golden sun's embrace
hearing the distant soothing breath of the ocean's gasp
feeling warmed by this heavenly caress
laying in your arms is forever where  i want to be

.
When I fell, from you,
Into loves' violet eye,
Sea spray in my ears,
I was on the strands,
By the creeping seas.

Sky called, a tannoy,
Screed from seabirds
And the sands sunken,
Tapered me by footfall,
Such recurring dreams,

Air howling our names,
The horizon lit in flame,
We were twined in kelp
And arms rail embrace
On strands where I fell.

She crept up my veins,
And highjacked my heart,
Before dumping it.

HP Poem #1275
©Atul Kaushal
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