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K Balachandran Apr 2015
Morning light, without fail tells me something new, about you!
Each day adds some more in my story book about your love,
Some little thing, makes me think about invisible you each moment.
What do I do other than being possessed by you, in spirit, body and mind.
Ever  imagined a love in which body would never figure
yet the ecstasy is beyond anything one can compare,
one reaches there  only lifted by the wings of meditation..
Mike Essig Apr 2015
When I die
my words will scatter
like fallen leaves.

All I have made
blown carelessly
to the four corners.

This is both
heartbreaking
and amusing.

They are
not really mine
anyway.

Hold on to nothing,
you become free
to do anything.
  - mce
Rockie Mar 2015
What have I done
I've done it now
Ended it all
Realised that there is no going back
From that moment forward
Injustice was done
By my hands
My hands are stained
With the blood of another
That knife
The knife that was in my possession
Through the foundations
The foundations of the human body
The body of another
Which is shivering
Shaking
Quivering
Ending
*What have I done?
Lauren Batchelor Jan 2015
Do you consider
                                     Me
A Victory? Ah!
My Dear.
This trophy rests too heavy on the shelf,
Weighty in the mind.
skyblueandblack Jan 2015
A girl once wandered along a field of flowers, feet bare
Carefree and unafraid of what she might encounter there

She knew the thorns she removed from her staunch heart
were the launching point, from the point of depart

With the promises that come with the freedom of wings
that portend magical Hope and other beautiful things.

She stopped in the midst of flowers abounding
held out her arms to soak in the sun’s rays astounding

Her head raised high, her eyes serenely closed
no more tranquil an image could have been posed.



Soon thereafter, a feather from the heavens fell
suddenly appearing, as if cast from a spell

It gently danced and glided, sought out her hand
as if searching for a place to land

A feather of the most vibrant hues
like the flowers; reds, yellows, greens and blues.

No sooner had the feather ended its flight
there followed a most ethereal sight .

It was the most exquisite bird,
and suddenly,
something within the girl’s staunch heart stirred.



On her outstretched hand, the bird gracefully landed,
peered into her soul, her attention it commanded.

Resplendent and fine, its feathers in all those dazzling hues
like the flowers; reds, yellows, greens and blues.

She could not help but caress those fine feathers,
as she stood amidst the irises and the heathers.

The bird sang a melody so sanguine and so sweet
only briefly it lingered in sorrow,
a song reminiscent of times long past,
and a subtle promise of tomorrow.



As the bird then moved to the palm of her hand
its beauty, a stunning mesmerization;
the awareness that it may soon fly away
was a sudden and terrifying realization.

She held it with care, grateful for each moment
treasuring each offering like a gift from a lover
Is your heart here to stay, she wanted to ask,
or does it belong to another?

You are not from this place, she thought to herself
You belong in paradise, your heavenly abode
Are you visiting, dear wanderer? Or lost, searching for home?
Still pursuing a path along your designated road?

How easy it would be to close that hand
hold the exquisite bird there forever..
It would sing to her every day,
A bond that would not sever.

But love is not of a forced possession
In her being, this she knew.
That vibrant light would surely dim
There would be no more vibrant hue



And so she wandered on in the field of flowers,
towards the blazing horizon of the dusking sky.
The majestic bird perched upon her open hand
as it sang the songs of days gone by.

Fear remains, along with many thoughts awoken
they set behind the fiery orange-crimson sun,
they hide behind fragile promises spoken,
and gold-gilded intentions begun.

Twilight descends, infused with the disquiet dark brings
accentuated by the stillness of night..
‘but the morning brings strength to her restless wings*’
and Hope, emerges with the Light.
“Behind the blood-stained curtains of Love,
there are fields of flowers where lovers wander...
To wander in the fields of flowers, pull the thorns from your heart.”
~ Rumi
http://skyblueandblack.com/2014/04/09/wanderers-in-a-field-of-flowers/
*Jackson Browne
lily Jan 2015
your mouth is several degrees hotter than mine
and the heat was delicious
you devoured me with your lips, teeth, and tongue
it was a bruising kiss that i returned with equal intensity
our lips in an act of passion and possession
Abigail Shaw Dec 2014
Tonight,
Like lambs to the slaughter,
You're drowning in water,
Because you're mine.

Consuming,
I'm filling the spaces,
And all the safe places,
Of your mind.

Tonight,
Crawl on back to your circus,
Yeah you've lost your purpose,
Now you're mine.

Infected,
Stealing your body,
Possession and blackness fill the corners,
Of your mind.

My words,
They wrap around your throat,
Your fractures they denote,
That you're mine.

You're blind,
Lost in the darkness,
You're stolen, you're heartless,
So give me your hand,
And your mind.

Broken,
You'll sleep in the lion's den,
And all of your amen's,
Are maligned.

Tonight,
You'll ask me to love you,
To please take hold of you,

Because you're mine.
Mark me
like a permanent marker stain on my collarbones,
a smear of bruised flesh, painted with possessive fury.
I'll mark you with my nails,
crescents like waning moons on your back--
but we aren't waning,
we're waxing,
glowing,
night lovin'
creatures.
professional poetic lust
saranade Oct 2014
Faced with disapproving faces
Glazed gazes dazed hazing my faces
Fascinated by my inappropriate places
Amassed masses ****** and passed by me
Watching the voices; noises, you'll avoid
Our inside turmoil recoil and reclaim
Property that wasn't properly yours...
to claim
Sprinkle a double dandy shot of disdain
Hand and hang myself in your vision.
Whatdoyouseeinme watching voices property
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