The day I met you
I think I thought that I could die right there on the spot,
as long as I could shed my skin and
come back as a gentle breeze
on the back of your neck.

I wrote this upon meeting my husband for the first time on December 6, 2006.

I met two girls today.
They were young, wide-eyed.
Freshmen, passionate-
They reminded me so much of us.

One of dirty blonde,
like you,
and the other of near jet-black curls,
just like me.

As I watched them,
it was as if I was looking through a mirror.
Parallels so cinematic,
I could hardly believe it was real.

It was friendship, in its purest form.
Laughter; like a thousand doves had taken flight.
Smiles; like the angels themselves
had manifested upon the earth.

Like I flood, I felt it-
The warm glow of the summer sun,
the crisp taste of raspberry iced tea,
and the bitter poison it took on when it all fell apart.

But they, they are young;
yet to be touched by the Devil's proud finger.
They are yet to reap the consequences
change and time may bring.

Though all we were has since died,
the Wheel continues to turn.
I see our beauty reincarnated as two souls
far more deserving than either of us ever were.

As I sit, and I watch,
I cannot help but think-
I only hope they should be so fortunate
as to escape our fate.

Francie Lynch May 11

If not born into this confluence
From the cesspool of the waiting room,
Then elsewhere.
My consciousness schools me.
My ego insists.
I am, and was meant to be.
But logic countermands hope.
The fairies and angels are indexed
In the collected works of Aesop.
I am a network of synapses
Bleached into the soil.

Guff: Hall of unborn souls.

Sunshine dances in three-four
Down red winds of the Day’s River,
Canary wine pedicels litter deciduous
Plateaus intoxicated if only, petals reach
For my tongue wanting to be swallowed or
Acknowledged a faulty reincarnation of chemical
Reactions, I’m human now nothing
More than ever, ambitions stifled
Reduced to making minimum
Wage and fighting each day
To stay awake,
Ran timeless together a brief escape
Encompassed again by distantly
Nostalgic surroundings, unable to bloom
Stripped of beauty, given skin and lungs and sent
To suffer here I lie spine pressed to chartreuse quilts
Hair whistling gently impersonating bluestem
Meadows dreaming restlessly suspended
In relief, speak loud oh wildflowers oh wild lovers of mine
And I unable to communicate, will listen

We all had to be a water droplet,
a blade of grass,
a piece of metal and shard of glass,
We all had to be an air molecule,
a mess of dirt,
we all have died and we've all gave birth. We've all been insects that live in the earth. We all had to be fleas,
We all had to dogs,
We all had to be Lilly pads and had to be frogs.
We all had to give and we all had to take,
We all had to lose and we all had to make, We're all on one team so we all have a say.
We are the characters and life is a play,
A roles a role but still we must not delay.
Your path is the only thing in your way.
We've all been here before but we don't have to stay.
Enlighten and leave,
the cycles recede,
and birth is at death,
a spiritual world of love and light is all that will be left,
without our skin we look within and see at our best,
the problems we had in life were nothing but a test.
Individual strength brings you closer to the source,
so never look back in remorse.

Written on 2/20/17

We turn back into dust everyday
We slowly decay
Some of us corrode much faster
Some of us turn into dark matter
Some of us turn into foam
Some of us are left alone
Some of us stay here forever
And this is my souls greatest endeavor
Life after life and lesson after lesson
Dissecting the product to get the blessing
Shining light into my heart to receive the message,
Live and let go, no time for stressing.

Written on 6/27/16
ConnectHook Apr 18

The immaculate Dalai of Lama
was revered as a modern Gautama.
While he discoursed, with mirth
upon karmic rebirth
he reminded us all of his mama.

NaPoWriMo #17

Lemme axe u dis:
do Haiku thrill the urban
poetry-lovers?
Hannah Apr 17

Entry ~
I walked into the sea. I dove beneath the rolling waves, and released every piece of me to the sandy pits underneath my feet. I came here to find some peace, to relinquish the pain I've been carrying, since the day my soul was born to this spinning planet of blue and green. I think my soul is made up of the past, of lives I've lived over centuries passed. I can't explain this karma any other way. It's stacked up against me, towering so high, I must've done something truly awful in a previous life, because there's no way it's karma from this one. I've paid for my mistakes in this life. I've done my time, endured my suffering for the mistakes I've made here, but I can't do anything about my previous lives. I don't think I payed my do's then. I think I ran. I know I did, because there is always an incessant urge to flee, deep inside me, whenever something goes wrong. It's instinctual, kind of like a lion chasing a gazelle. It's a natural instinct for the gazelle to flee when it's being hunted, and for the lion to chase when it's after prey. I think I've been running from the lion for centuries, maybe even millennia's. I don't know who the lion is, but I must've done something truly awful to deserve being punished through lifetimes of karma. I think this karma is how I'm supposed to know he's caught me. I've always had this feeling, deep inside my chest, that life on earth is a punishment. I was sent here to learn a lesson, and maybe I haven't been able to figure it out. That's why it feels like I'm constantly reborn, over and over again. I think in this life, I'm starting to figure it out. I think when I die from this incarnation, I'll transcend beyond the heavens. I'll go back to where I came from thousands of years ago. I'll go back to the place where the lion lays. I'll face him, and hope he doesn't kill me, or wound me to badly. I have to face him, because I can't keep running. I can't be reborn here again. This place is truly hell, but at least I find peace when I'm floating in the salty sea. It's a refuge for me.

Hadiy Syakir Feb 19

It takes me years
to go to nowhere
I've been waiting
for the moonlight
to wrap me up
for the sunshine
to burn me up
but I can't let go
the pain of not wanting
a revenge on the
sight of deity goddess.

What we ought to know is something that we will never know.
Alyce Black Feb 18

The fields roll gold
against the emerald
and violet edges
of dusk creeping in
and I found you
under
an oak tree and
I took you in
while ravens watched
and there's nothing
like those
magic moments
of in between

I saw the fog
roll in
like a dream,
cold and cozy
against my parents
blue beach house,
a shabby thing
in
a shabby little sea town
and I watched
tea steam
against the glass
and heard boats calling
and I
know I'm safe
but the dinner dad made
is
disgusting

The night owl
comes to take me home
and I'm longing
for some sense of
belonging
but she
wraps those broom-bloom
wings around me
and suddenly
I
am so afraid to fly
because when I open eyes
into bright lights
I know
I'll forget
what it means to die.

A patchwork in every sense of the word
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