You told me all poetry is about sex or God
Because you know that I have a map of your body well memorized in my mind
And I touch your hands like I'm turning pages of a Bible
A bookmark I forgot about from the chapter in my life when I believed without reservations
But I love you like a sinner because it seems
you are my last chance of paradise

She’s the angel
I never asked for
But here she is anyway.
Being so effortlessly angelic
Making me believe love
was never been tragic
And while my mortal life
is firmly stock on earth
Her soul is so perfect
Like she’s a magic hurled
by the hidden paradise
and the mysterious universe.

Dovey 7d

I dont want to live
till my body wastes away
and I don't want to love you
till I have to watch you fade

I want to die young
I want to go to heaven
Let's go to heaven, you and I

But I'm not sure I'll make it
and I know you won't either
Whats the point of heaven if you're not by my side?

Oh, let's go together!
Let's go together!
Let's go together!
We can die together...

My heaven has no point if you're not there
and living has no point if my body will wear
Take my hand, trust me
Won't you let me die?

Ask no questions.

Weird thoughts, okay?
Seema Sep 23

A place to spend your holiday
A place of peace and getaway
Pack your bags and grab a flight
For Fiji is awaiting your atmost sight
Early sunrise, cool sea breeze
Waterfall wonders, you'll surely freeze
Hikes like no other, activities you'll enjoy
No dangers, no creatures no forest toy
No roaring lions, no slithering snakes
No bears of any kind that awakes
Just wild birds chattering their plea
"Come on humans, why do you flee"
People friendly of all races
Sometimes its hard to tell their origin by faces
Food of great delicacy on a bed of island chill
You'll not be disappointed when you'll get your bill
White sandy beaches open to all
Bonfire activities often on a roll
Special island dances and firewalking by natives
So much to do, plan your island motives
Just now I see a big cruise ship docked at sea
Why not come down and enjoy
A small piece of heaven, my Fiji can be...


A Henslo Sep 22

What antiquated tongue as such
Hissed Eden's serpent to get in touch?
Angelic would probably not be true
Possibly Arabic or perhaps Hebrew
But almost certainly it wasn't Dutch

What dikes would Noah's land comprise
If these polder pros had been about
And the deluge struck fields fitted out
With some deft water controlling device?
Would we have preserved our paradise?

First illustrated publication Dec. 6, 2016
sophia sacal Sep 21

Your voice was the poetry
My ears were longing to hear,
The soft-spoken words my heart
Ached to read.

It was the lullaby
That sang me to sleep,
The sound that carried me
Into the idyllic grounds of dreams.

Kurt Carman Sep 12

As I drifted off last evening, I had no idea I’d see you again.
But there you were in my dream and it was wonderful to see you again my friend.
You made your way through this celestial space to meet me at the roily water’s edge,
And a smile came upon your face and it illuminated the skies.
….”and in the distance, I could hear Wolfgangs “Eine Kleine Nachtmusik” playing”

“How are you John?” I asked.
“I couldn’t be better Kurt because this Kingdom is so special” he replied.
And we tarried there awhile and shared memories with one another,
We reminisced of our childhood, growing up, and our happiest moments in life.
….“I felt as though something in my life had prepared me for this time with him”

As the clouds sped above us, you told me how much you missed your wife and children,
and how much you looked forward to helping them cross this river one day.
I asked John...“If you see my Mom, would you tell her I love her and that I miss her every day?”
He assured me he would do his best to give her the message.
…”And just then, a quote appeared and it read “the smallest deed is better than the greatest intention”

And as I stood on one side of the river and you the other,
I flashed John the live long and prosper gesture and he to me.
He began playing one of my favorites on his Sax, and he disappeared into the clouds above me.
I awoke, still hearing his parting words resonating in my head….
….Don’t cry because I’m gone, smile because I live on”

This poem is about a dream I had last evening. Its written exactly how it was presented. John died last year at 66 and honestly I have not thought about him. We were good friends in the 60's and then faded apart to raise our families. I love you John and I know this is a message from you.
Paras Bajaj Sep 14

Red lips and weird faces.
Star-like eyes and no traces.
Benevolent ways and eminently wise.
Little hell and little paradise.

Timeless beauty but compassionate.
Gold-like bright but great.
No wings but flies high.
Little hell and little paradise.

Paras Bajaj
Seema Sep 8

I am called an angel
I am called a ninja
I wear silver bangles
My color is of ginger

I have doll like eyes
My figure is of a small coke bottle
I hate tales of flying lies
I live in the pacific portal

I smile when I am sad
Tears are always in abundance in me
I have a temper and I do get mad
I am only a human, you see

I love reading and adore writing
But my mouth ain't a word diarrhea
I love silence and scenery sitings
I've been writing for over an year

I am in love with my adorable dogs
Who make my lone day bright
Cloudy yet windy, misty or fogs
I love this weather, as a cold night

My inner me is a mischief child
I am in my early working thirties
My imaginative writing gets wild
I am quite authoritative

I teach info tech, I love my students
Knowledge sharing is my best part
I am intolerable to fake mutants
But, I hate to see them depart

My name is Seema and I am a free writer
With the challenges I face
Each day makes my life brighter
With the blink of time in trace...


U Sep 4

I write poetry cause it flows in me,
Headlong rush on the ocean beach,
Blinding my eyes in the blizzard freeze,
I am nature’s seed
—Sense magnified—
For these words I lead.

Green, lush, verdant, gardens abound,
Surrounding me with their luscious leaves,
Cravings mum under this untrimmed tree,
“This is paradise”
There is no fee.
“This is paradise.”
Why aren’t I free?
“This is paradise.”
I hear it telling me.
But, why? Why, I ask,
Is there work for me?

“Cause nature is chaos.
The mind is order,
It knows where to find the line,
Whereas a vine
Will never respect the border.”

But I am so small
And very weak,
I turn my eyes to the sun,
Followed by bowing meek.
How can I compete, control, or ravish that?
To her I am but nothing,
No different than a gnat.

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