allie 6d

If you sit on the chair
Will you watch me stare?
At your thin arms
Missing your old farm

She moved you here
And year after year
I look at your falling face
And think about your case

And this place
Is hidden from space
And it can embrace
Your grace.

Bad news came in. My grandfather had a stroke, so there goes the mood.

Marvel at your magnificence and madness.
Orbiting rainbow hues of mirth and sadness.
Opaque auras swimmingly swing moods.
Night of the full pink moon broods
.

K.R.Dalton
4-12-17 (C)

Musing on the moon for National Poetry Month!
Thanks for reading! K:)
Jonny blaze Apr 3

Never did i know she would come on to me. A married woman and married man how could this be.

It started out as a kind gester to take her out never did i know it was I and not her husband she was thinging about

She threw herself at me not thinking with my mind but with my dick to me it was fucked up but to her it was all a game just a trick to get me trapped.

My marrage going up in flames but my wife doesnt want to leave me unlike this crazy woman who see's herself replacing my wife like im her gains

She told me if i cant have you no one will.
Not wanting or ready yo leave my faithful wife the crazy one caught onto the deal.

Dime me out and tell the public hit me with adultry these days are dwendling down my times coming to a end quick.

What am I to do now take my life nah thats too serous not even something to think about. She wants to end my life end my career she is txting me now it her or me choose wisely and not out of fear.

Maria Etre Apr 3

Kiss me a galaxy
and I’ll orchestrate
the best musical
with each and
every shooting star

Kiss me a note
and I’ll generate
volumes of kisses
imprinted for
each and every moment
I have wanted to
kiss you back

For full entry https://indiedoodles.wordpress.com/2017/04/03/6946/
Timothy hill Mar 30

That too was flawed as your characterize traits.


Do river's move because of wind, or is it because your smile.


Optical illusions, as your beauty gets off at the next transit.


Crowds aline in order hight low short taller.

You choose, aimlessly and sit blank in experience.

So as too your mind you keep safe.


For moods are annoying and you need to pick your team

Of a girl of moods
Pagan Paul Mar 28

.
Changing her disguise,
lover in liquid lapis,
tart wearing turquoise,
blending serene, frozen,
collecting flirtations,
in green emeralds,
feeding on innocence,
emotion camouflaged,
sacrificed phrases melting,
virgin hot tears, crimson,
return to the silence,
and decriminalise sentiment.


© Pagan Paul (2016)

.
old poem
.
Aaron LA Lux Mar 27

Mad Man

A made man,
a mad man,
but no I’m not mad and,
I’m dreaming of scheming up a brand new grand plan,
as in,
a glad plan,
to be happy and not mad when,
people act bad as I suppose sometimes just happens,

and that’s when,
words find their way into your heart,
hatred hits the light and dissolves,
and we see the matrix coming apart,

this is the definition of The Beautiful Art that we are,
hope there’s enough diamonds in this dirt,
to make the dirt worth this much work,
the effort is worth it when we’re on the Ark.

We are the Art…

We are all art,
this is all art,
blow me a kiss,
don’t waft me a fart,

oh sorry not sorry,
was that a bit retart,
or rather retarted,
did we have a rough start,
should we just restart it,

because I’m late,
a bit tardy but not hardly sorry,
because it’s better to be a day late,
than a dollar short and that word to Charlie,

hardy,
but not sorry,
see we don’t care,
not even hardly,

we don’t care,
as we buzz by like shooting stars,
let them stare,
young starlet’s go numb from the fun on the heart,

I know where you’re at and can tell where you’re from,
just from the scars that you wear,
no time for small talk let’s take a tall glass and a long walk,
see the road is long but if we stay strong and get along we’ll get there,

don’t be scared of offensive truths if we have to we’ll take it there,

see there be no PC for my Bee Gees,
we’re Staying Alive staying live just to survive,
How deep is your love love,
tell me will I hit bottom if I jump in from a swan dive?

It’s Saturday Night,
and I’ve got a fever of Celsius 69,
been spending Too Much Time in Heaven,
It’s hot up here on Cloud Nine that close to the Sunshine,

see I’m,
making references to musical preferences,
Bee Gees Staying Alive,
How Deep Is Your Love Saturday Night,

but I’m probably just sounding like a mad man,
because you’re probably to young to get it they miss the reference,
so I sound like someone who believes they’re right even when they’re wrong,
but are just are too stubborn to admit it as a confession,

every mistake can be a lesson,
listen I’ll tell you what the difference is,
if you learn from a mistake,
you turn what a mistake was into what a lesson is,

you don’t learn from a mistake,
but you learn from a lesson,
see honestly it obviously seems,
that that’s the only significant difference,

tell me what the difference is,
between genius and insanity,
honestly it’s only a few million,
self made man so what can they tell me?

A made man,
a mad man,
but no I’m not mad and,
I’m dreaming of scheming up a brand new grand plan,
as in,
a glad plan,
to be happy and not mad when,
people act bad as I suppose sometimes just happens,

and that’s when,
words find their way into your heart,
hatred hits the light and dissolves,
and we see the matrix coming apart,

this is the definition of The Beautiful Art that we are,
hope there’s enough diamonds in this dirt,
to make the dirt worth this much work,
the effort is worth it when we’re on the Ark.

We are the Art…

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

Debanjana Saha Mar 21

My mood swings to & fro in motion
And I cry, smile, eat, laugh and so on.
I have been away from it for sometime.
But now mingling again
Knowing not it's good or bad.
I have been away for a while thinking
if it wouldn't make me mad.
But I was wrong, no matter who leaves me
and how walks in.
My mood swings never stays apart.

Me and my mood swings across lonely pathways.
Aaron LA Lux Mar 20

American Dream

Losing it one memory at a time,
how can I keep track of my friends all over the world,
how did America become a shell of it’s former Self,
what happened to the my American Dream?

I mean,
I have everything,
every,
thing,

been to every continent still not at all content,
really though mostly because I don’t know the reason,
for my discontentment I’m in contempt when I try and defend Consciousness,

because most people don’t want to hear it,
myself usually included,
but this day is different an exception to the rule,
in a moment when nothing is excluded,

all inclusive with no illusion to allude to,
only positive punctual true proof,
that ever experience we gain,
is another memorie we lose,

and I suppose that’s the trade off sort of,
lost my money got my freedom feeling strung out like Adolf,
in this Waking Dream that's beginning to feel like a Ponzi Scheme,
was gonna blow the whistle on the whole thing until I got paid off,

hey Madoff,
I just got laid off,
or rather laid on,
a beautiful bed by a beautiful mare that's more like a Stallion,

and that’s the difference,
between the Exceptions to the Rule,
and the “normal human beings”,
I’m between and Exception and the Rules,

I’m losing things but Perfection costs a lot of jewels,
so I'm donating all my Championship rings and useful tools,

got,

to pay the Piper,
there’s a toll at the bridge,
and a troll under the bridge,
and I'm tough not a Billy Goat Gruff with,

Red,
Hot Chili Peppers,
with Kiedis in Budapest,
got The Good Life high as Ini the Hotstepper,

whatever,
nothing seems normal,
shouldn’t be so formal,
let the record play let the drums roll,

in times of gargoyles and turmoil,
having a drink at the bar and it's purple,
at Gresham Palace Bar & Lounge,
up high and getting down with a surplus,

outstanding,
with Anthony in Budapest,
at the Four Seasons Hotel,
on the River Danube,

the River Danube,
brings up memories,
of Lovers and Poems,
and all of the things that continue to make Me,

me and my memories,
I remember you and yours too,
when we walked across that bridge,
above the River Danube...

I can’t stand Truth,
He can be such a fickle creature when He’s free,
and I’m losing memories it’s true I just hope I’m not also losing you,
because She can be such a fickle creature when She’s free,

losing,
one round at at time,
gaining,
on ground that was never mine,

and I know you don’t know the answers,
“But excuse me could you at least tell me the time?”,

to this you turn from your Enamore,
“Well since you asked I’ll tell you it’s almost One Two.”,
in other words what you said,
was it’s almost 12 which makes this the 11th Hour of Youth,
and I know we’re losing all of our memories,
but the only thing I fear losing is you,

Because I’m,
I’m,
I’m,
losing it,

Losing it one memory at a time,
how can I keep track of my friends all over the world,
how did America become a shell of it’s former Self,
what happened to the my American Dream?

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

I exhale.
One exhalation added
to the collective sigh of the sad.
A sort of meditation
a sign of letting go
A surrender to the feeling,
the moment.

I contemplate.
Repeated contemplation
of every unturned stone.
The groove in the record deepens
and the needle traps itself.
The alluring invitation of
darkness is irresistible.

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