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Jo Baez Mar 2016
Two vessels afloat,
Lost at sea.
Fading beacon of fragmented promises.
Shun and shine among the raging waves.
Awaiting to get washed away or break among the corroding rocks.
Whom hold history of a ghost traveling through the past, present, and lingering in the future.
Waiting to collide
Shipwreck, shipwreck,
The sirens sing .
Jo Baez Feb 2016
We danced & intertwined like experienced virgins on her bedroom sheets.
Copulation ignited, Seemed like fantasy.  
She gave birth to love but in the end.
She regrets calling off the abortion.
~                                                          ~
Poe­ms. Leave a special subtle fleur
lingering  around. In colours they
live. In auras of poets. They're
born. They turn. They dye.
The world. And die.
~                     ~                         ~
In the middle Earth we'd love
and cherish our liberated
slick yearnin's. Limbs.
Craving caresses.
~     ~                ~             ~              
I'd kiss you like a crazy
flutterby. Levitating
upon your body.
In pleasure.
You. . .Me
~~~                                             ~  
Endless words stream from
your radiant thoughts.
Laser swords are no
match to describe.
How you Scribe.
Vital. Sensual.    
~           ~            ~              ~
My eyes sip you. Wordless.
You purr. In my palms.
Lustful breaths.Dim
Light. Pressed. Lit
Flames. Are we.

  ~     ~
Imagined by
Space Poetess
Summertime, naked and hot, in winter,
still blazing,  buried tinder of our heart;
never healed love bites arrow's splinters.

Enchanting two violins move red roses
to tremble in light wind. A song to see,
souls craving to play starry night's glee.

I know, I was borne for your body, male;
A season too late, too long a foolish desire!
tearing us apart, as omnipresent love tale.  

Many a night, your lavish words touched
me, yielding under your immense beauty,  
should I savor for you tremendous desire!

Owl's wakeful eyes are thoughts beyond
Realms. And you take me there upfront!
Summertime, naked and hot, in winters;
Never healed love bites arrow's splinters.
Imagined by Impeccable Space Poetic Love

I was searching for a music You remind me of; and
found a proximity of everything you stand for. . . .
I went to the kitchen and asked the magician

"What do you think of love?"

He took his two birds, love birds they be
He swung them around carelessly
Right then and there he broke their necks, sputtering

*"That's what I think of love!"
Okay this is another old one but I do remember I had a lot of fun writing it. Which might seem weird. Idk, I love stories.
Elijah Corbeau Jun 2014

These are the verses of indecision-
Of being scared of what might be.
Or what might not, have we forgot
How to put faith in what we cannot see?

In trying times, we seek to be free
(From pain, from ego, from strife-)
But you can’t outrun your responsibility,
And these trials are the key to life.

So if you carry such burdens, and cry
And can’t seem to find the path you own-
Give in to the moment, end those sighs
And trust that you will be taken home.

For there is no value but what we place in stone,
You can only care if you choose to give.
If it’s not returned, what’s given wasn’t earned
Since all things end, how will you choose to live?

Maybe these are verses of  wisdom.
Yes, they speak of things that may yet be.
Give in to desire, don’t lose that fire
Trust your heart, and be set free.
This is the first poem that I've written based on the poetic form I created called a Ritarando (Italian for Re-adjustment). It works on the premise that questions create beauty, and each ritarando poem's rhyme scheme and setup are designed to be the same. I'll be doing a post on it! If you like it, write one! I would love to see people using it!
"...Motus autem veros ex eorum causis, effectibus & apparentibus differentijs colligere, & contra, ex motibus seu veris seu apparentibus, eorum causas & effectus, docebitur fusius in sequentibus..."
D. Isaaci Newtoni.

There will be a sequence of unexpected statements.  We understood, that this was said which likened the beginning to the continuation.  It was the orchard from which delicious fruits displayed their love for the taste of them, the meanings.  Seeds were harvested through the dimly perceived writings of ancient scholars.

{ [ c exp tan r ( x ) d w d r ] / ( d x ) }
= { [ ( k , h ) tau int g ( r ) d w d t ] / ( d f d v ) } .

Visited in the course of evolution, all realized the implication, that seasons would arrive from which the meeting of machines would be complementary like the force of a sports team.  The objects gathering into droplets included the growth of sunlight transforming ashes; yet the dictionary is not to change.
Elijah Corbeau May 2014
I seek beauty in rhyme and tense,
The dreams that colors earn-
The roots of my aesthetic sense
Are things I have yet to learn.

To find a hope in reversing thoughts
Means shifting paradigms is a pleasure;
Beliefs striving, fighting and fought
With metaphor in equal measure.

Then! A trick, a shift we weather,
A path down which we fall-
And then you see, its not just me,
Somehow we end up together.

For we sought beauty with rhyme and tense;
Those dreams of they who yearn,
So in defense of aesthetic sense
To those metaphors I will return.
For me - Poetry is a way to explore my sense of beauty. All those who seek and hope to find live in my work. (I hope!)

— The End —