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My eyes slyly asked yours for a breeze
But your lips quickly gifted a tornado.
Uprooted, with you  I flew across like a bird,
To an island where your sharpend  nails,
Etched murals on love going sweetly violent,
On every inch, making the pain pleasurable,
All over the canvas of my down turned body.
Like a play that posed drama of a full moon and dark glory on my skin,
I opened my hands in the middle of the day towards the valley of hope ...
Of whose wait towards me delegated by your silent coming where there was nothing,
Sometimes it seems to be collective strength from one to the whole but with nothing,
I only know that when I walk I feel your scent running in my footsteps ...

Like a work that I carried in my forest where nothing fit,
Just a new species that knew nothing about Wind or Rain.

Feet to stumble as tripartition:
- Of my few wings for airs to whisper to you like purposely agony,
- of my fragility of staying alive for love without sacrificing anything
- And not reaching the train as my heart takes without being able to do anything ...

When I look at the absent gleams of your company I celebrate living a fuller second of Life that pretends to be a count before sleeping without a second more to count new shines in the opaque gray that walks to be new light of me.

But I fall asleep awake and I feel again the warm cold that falls on my eyelids sleeping as if I were a timid Lily with the term of advancing the devotion of the flowers to your hands on my lips in the morning to receive your Life more than a Life in thousands of forms of your gaze.

I want to run as a gift that runs falling with content moaning that flattered your empire cuts my fingers more than my words without having drama of the edge of the sigh that more than Spring winter is reborn from the chalice of the soft corridors of the forests in games on our Choppy phrases without saying that the party of living will have no limit of guests among flowers, animals and their entire creation of beautiful without being punished by whoever wants to challenge for valleys and mountains, but who knows to repair the memory of those who did not, or who felt it ...

I would like to embrace your shadow and fall together on the shadows of the shadows of our sleepless nights ... thinking that you were already, even being on the threshold of the loneliness of terror of having conquered the single life without the life that frightens those who die in their arms asleep.

What is the smile but has sadness in each sound of your joy,
How I use each arm of my conscience and will if I wish to have the will of the thunder clamoring for you, losing yourself along the banks of the flash, smiling with the same joy of singing forever your Life in every gregarious indigo moment, confusing you with the eternal rest of my on sense of knees in my infra sense.

We will lean our worshiped heads on the sacred forest in strife
And of the multitude of sacred noises watching us envious of how we continue to love to spill on their dry leaves the spilled liquids of our scattered and torn courtship.

Rainy I love you Rainy Sphinx of Water, I believe and pray that your Snow - Water Crown will never dry!

I was always with you,
You walked and I gathered the petals as servile company that adores your footsteps in Eden by refusing to withdraw from Him ...

Delight in the mysteries of beginning to walk with my hands out of the sky, Or with my feet in the wakefulness of not sleeping thinking of you closer than I think to be measured by the greatest wakefulness ...
Dancing under the private pendulum of you and my scent flower that roar from Heaven to come closer to my arms and know more about you for when you are not there if I have to forget it so as not to suffer the drama of your hand and your hand next to mine flower next to yours even under the worst hell ...
Hands for Hands
Jack Harrell Jul 2019
Somethings I do
Just for me
Paint this picture under my tree
Pull out all my drawers to find one tee

Drive the hammer
to hit the nail
Swing my car  
to set sail

Hit cruise control from my chair
Stare off until I get a cramp
Lay in by bed and make basecamp
Randomly run my fingers through my hair

But that’s fine for me
It’s not all for you
Some parts are lies
Some are true

I can’t have everything I want
So I’ll imagine the rest
Even when I drift off
I’m never at my best

I’ve never fully realized my
Potential
Never completely fulfilled my
Aim

If life is a game
I
Forfeit and forgive
All
Steve Page Mar 2019
Settle down please.
Today you will be trained in Level 1 crucifixion.

First, the nail. Please pass the bag along once you have taken one nail each.

You can rely on these nails.
Each one is forged by hand, hammered out and shaped with skill.
'You can nail it with one nail,' as they say.

Nails can be used to fasten almost anything to wood. Choosing the right nail for the job can make a big difference in hold power. As there is no need to conceal the nail head and we require maximum holding power, we have chosen common nails for the job. When the nail is temporary and will be pulled out again, as with crucifixion work, we have found that a double-headed or duplex nail is the best choice. However, due to cut backs, we have reverted to the common flat headed nail.

Experience and common practice calls for driving the nail through the thinner limb into the thicker timber. For maximum holding power, the length of the nail is such that it passes almost, but not quite, through the thicker timber. 

Take a careful look at the illustrations provided. As depicted, for best results lay the condemned on the crossbeam and bind the arms in place on the timber before nailing. I refer you to your ropes and knots training last week.

One nail is sufficient for each upper limb if placed between the forearm bones above the wrist. You will find that some limbs will have been subject to a break beforehand. If this is the case, we advise that you use additional rope to bind the limb to the cross beam and that you select a site for the nail further up the arm if necessary.

Now you are ready to secure the feet. Place the feet together one over the other. Hold them in place while a colleague drives one nail through both feet. Please hold them steady and resist any attempt by the condemned to frustrate your task. Keep steady pressure on the feet while your colleague hammers the nail home.

Before lifting the crixiform into the hollow, ensure each nail has been driven in securely. Once you and your supervisor are satisfied, lift the cruciform in one swift movement ensuring the base slides neatly into the hollow. Two or possibly three of you are needed for this.

This is the greatest test for your handiwork. The impact of the timber landing at the base of the hollow will cause the body to jar under its own weight and place additional strain on the nail. In the event that a nail comes loose, you are advised to lift the cruxiform out and to use a second nail on the unsecured limb.

In most cases this will not be necessary and the condemned will hang securely long enough to allow the body to die, even if this takes several days.

Once death has been confirmed using the accepted method, lift the cruxiform down, remove the nails and inspect them for damage. If deemed reusable, rinse and dry them before storage.

If there are no questions you will now each be assigned to an experienced colleague to assist with a crucifixion. If at any time you feel that you are likely to *****, please use the bucket provided. There's no shame in this, the first time can be quite shocking; there is usually more blood flow than you initially expect. However, you will soon learn how to complete the exercise with skill and professionalism. I have complete faith in you.

Please keep your nail, you'll need it later.
Easter ain't pretty.
when ****
day afternoon
was really
something to
behold in
Nashville with
catastrophic notes
that mother
backs another
day and
timbre her
fortune with
a dainty
song and
hence wake
in market
of blues
Margaret Dec 2018
Late one night
walking home
alone
I felt a long pink
finger nail
touch the
pad of my thumb finger
and it was my own
and somehow

I thought
to my grandma

how many bottles
of pink nail polish
collected in that
far from antique
white plastic container
and at visits
the rummaging
I would do
inspecting each color
and she taught me how
to paint each nail
one on the left,
one in the center,
one on the right,
for each nail

and when they
were drying she
would tell me
to blow
I would sit
so tall and proud
for not having smudged them

Such a childish thing
and yet how warmly
I remember this
when she died
I could have all of her
nail polishes
Wow, it has been a long time since I wrote for Hello Poetry. I started writing on this website as the only outlet for an awkward teenaged girl who was the only one in her classes enjoying poetry. Looking back, the content I was putting on the site wasn’t very good, but I loved the community here. So much has changed since then and I think as you get older you come to realize less is more when it comes to poetry. (With amount of words used at least). It will sometimes be months since I’ve written anything, but I wrote this one late a night or two ago, recalling this memory of my grandma. When she died, I lost a huge mother figure  in my life. My own mother was not the type to paint nails.
There was a dear

She was wild

Lived in a jungle

The lions saw her

They believed they can eat

Her with one bite

And they can hurt

With their nail

The wolves saw her

Walking without fear

Showing her beauty

Walking with very happy

They thought they had her

So they all follow her

The foxes noticed her

She was walking there

They could catch her

So they all approach

When she looked at them

When they saw her face

When they gazed in her eyes

They all admired her

They all loved her

They followed her

They play with her

They admired her

Suddenly she had gone

They searched for her

They looked everywhere

Who saw the wild dear?

At the night the lion appeared

He called with high voice

Come ,come my dear

I invited you to be her

To stay with us

To amuse us

With your beauty face

I am the king of  that world

if you return indeed

Did she return ?

Did she appear?
love could occure by haters.it needs clear hearts
Nayana Nair Sep 2018
The moon shines in my tear lined eyes.
On the edges of my nails that have lost their color.
Tonight once again
light falls on only on those bits of me
that are in no need for the love of a neutral god.
Anya Aug 2018
If they talk they talk after one
But all the nails in his socket were gone
And though our pastor could not outrun
The secret remains of Babylon
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