Brianna Nov 8

I think of him when its raining and the weather is gloomy and the clouds come in the surround me just like he did for a short, short while.

I imagine he is sitting somewhere in New York right now drinking some awful Gin and Tonic drink , writing something about some girl in a bar.

Or he's walking with his jacket high up over his neck day dreaming of his long lost Juliet or maybe he's scheming something more like Macbeth.

I like to think he thinks of me from time to time, the girl he sent poems to on Valentines Day, the girl he talked about loving the ocean more than life.

I know it's a bit narcissistic and a bit conceited but I like to think he know's I think of him from time to time.

When La Vie En Rose comes on and when I'm walking down the freshly rained on streets humming a tune.

When I am alone in my room contemplating how I couldn't make things work with good people or when I re read those poems I keep hidden away in my closet.

I imagine he's sitting in New York at some trendy, dive bar, making friends with the bartender telling stories about his life.

I imagine he's writing something about a girl he's currently in love with and the features that makes him swoon because one day he will give those poems to her for Valentines day as well.

I imagine that the day he finds the Juliet to his Romeo- he won't need to think of the girl whose too far away and in love with the ocean anymore.

I am water.
You can hold me close
I am warm in your hands
But, eventually I'll slip through your fingers
and all that will be left of me will be a cold feeling on your skin, and a puddle of wasted nothingness on the floor.

Each of us has a secret garden.
Someone's is big enough, someone's is small.
Well, it's clear all gardens differ,
And, undoubtedly, they bring us joy.

Hide and seek. Don't reveal it easy.
Swing back-forwards, fall into vain.
Nothing  matters and nothing happens.
Heartbeat sounds like a music box.

Singing, soaring with hands in the air.
Sometimes silence is the best workmate.
Closing eyes I can see all better.
Now the time when mine gathers yours.

Elemenohp Sep 16

I watched you fade away,
At a quicker pace
Than the bruises you left, on my body.

Ksjpari Aug 14

A Family that will always save you bloat
Is none other than Patel’s says my throat.
Boasting? No, really. They are like a tote
Fill whatever from them, they won’t denote.
What a family, what a love, what an antidote.
Whenever you go to them, they are remote
To say “No” – a habit which they wrote
For them – gentle, docile and elegant coat.
All children – Deep, Arti, Nand, Dhir are raincoat.
With their parents and cousins ride a boat
Of success; all creative and ready to devote.
I never forget this family. This a way I emote.

I am developing a new style of writing poetry where ending words of a line rhyme with one another, at least in last sound. I named it Pari Style. Hope readers will like it. Thanks to those invisible hands and fingers which supported and inspired me to continue my efforts in my new, creative, artistic and innovative “Pari” style. Thanks for your inspiring, kind, soft fingers.
Postman Aug 11

Lonely trails left me gutless
amidst darkest nightmares,
terrified, in vain, I screamed.
But, for you, I'll stand
offering my hand.

Postman Aug 11

Raw and rare myriad rainbow
hides amidst purplish puddle,
requisite ratio of rain and sunray
unmask each splash of colour
exactly the way the right man
unwinds his woman.

Relations are necessary
If they are to make a truth.
The facts of the matter
Can never be too certain.

Steve Page Jul 22

Auntie Janet asked me to say hi and that she doesn't blame you.
Grandad sends his regards and says he needs a little more time before he can see you.

Pete says hello and he'd like the long skewers returned if you get them back.
Mary sends her apologies and says you can keep the hachette.

Mum says you're invited to Uncle Bert's funeral if you're up to it. She'll deal with Uncle Arthur. 
Sarah says to thank you. She and the baby are doing much better.

Jim said he'll see you when he gets out. He owes you a major one.
Dad says you were right and not to beat yourself up. What’s done is done.

The nurse says you need to rest. It’ll take as long as it takes.
- Do you want those grapes? Don’t want them to go to waste.

Join the dots for yourself.
Clive Blake Jul 3

Ann Cestor lives alone,
No relatives has she,
So it seems
Iron-ic-ally,
That she is a root …
Without a tree!

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