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Michael King May 2018
Augment to me, exotic Lady rise;
just let me touch your spirit in the flesh,
support my pole, and I’ll withdraw my eyes,
this pain ascends the heart like reformed mesh.

In sight this stalwart climb becomes your test,
you smile, you know that this will be your last,
and so you start your groove at my behest,
and minister your hands upon my mast.

In stride, now stroke, just play your graceful hands,
you do it like so many times before.
So wilful, to adhere to my demands,
just let me guide my ship into your shore.

And so I go to my deck and I steer,
while in the crow’s nest you shout land is near.
Isaac Godfrey Jun 2017
~ Not far below the earth, concealed within the ground,
~ lies a common vegetable, in a medium mound,
~ See this plant is seldom main,
~ and really is simply rather plain,
~ If the traditional family have friends they need to feed,
~ it very often overlooked that that stew contains a Swede

~ Normal sized veg, not very special at all,
~ this plant be dubbed the Swede, the Swede we like to call,
~ often hard  and burgundy and round,
~ within our soup it is often found,
~ So if in need of savory your dish  may be,
~ you must always try the Swede you see.

~ I am not trying to say the Swede is  definitively the best ,
~ nor do I mention it's stands out from the rest,
~ I mean the Swede
~ is within no need
~ to be more mundane or less.
Just a little piece of literature I was inspired to create upon simply gazing at a large and particularly ordinary and humble Swede. I do not mean Swede as in a Swedish person.
13 May 2017
I could get used to the silence.

The birds chirping, the bees buzzing, the leaves rustling…
Trivial treasures compared to the screaming isolation.
Louder than anything you’ll hear, quieter than nothing,
Lasting eternally until broken, emphatically.

I could get used to my breath, didn’t notice it before today.
I must have been dead this whole time.
Without a voice, bereft of noise,
That which only feels but never reveals.

I could get used to that.
I could get used to this.
Posted on March 25, 2015
Poetry,my love is not a set of love songs
It portrays all types of hatred as well
Love goes to kiss the beauty it belongs
The rivals have their own hatred to dwell

Love touches the chords of soul my dear
But at times it does tear apart all the parts
Love takes in lap the sweetest beauty near
Hence it melts into liquid both the hearts

Let my beloved understand love in reality
Let sweetheart sing love song to proceed
Let us take real love to edge of its eternity
Lets know a friend in need is friend indeed

Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2017 Golden Glow
I applaud *****, even though her roommate is an *******
and she's constantly beaten up by a ****
she keeps her spirits high and she keeps right on moving...

I applaud you *****....
blue mercury Oct 2016
i wouldn't want to dress up as depression, angst, or sorrow
because then i'd match with everyone.
Olga Valerevna Jul 2015
It feels as though I never knew the person you've become
A black and white chicanery that's breathing through your lungs
The only thing I think about is how this came to be
Forget the present as it were, there's nothing left to see
I must've spoke a thousand times but nobody could hear
I tried to make myself believe before you made it clear
Uncertainty would linger in the spaces you would go
And leave me with an emptiness that lived inside my throat
I had my words and you had yours, the conversation's changed
We may have once been lovers but our hearts are now estranged
miscellaneous
Theodore Bird Feb 2015
cracked porcelain cups, spilt forgotten tea,
     stale uneaten biscuits and the freckles of crumbs
on a matching hand-painted plate.
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