I remember reading somewhere that one thorn
can be used to extract or take out another thorn
which has pierced the skin and body of a person
so the pain experienced for a while does worsen
and only after it has been taken out is heard a sigh
of relief regardless of the method used to come by.
____
Written in Jan. 2018
The flash of white,
in a sea of darkness,
is enough for me

Hope,
that’s what it is,
in an ocean of doubt

Attempting to soothe,
my infamous,
inconsolable mind

But as I swim,
to the lighthouse of hope,
I find myself drowning

Falling deeper into the doubt,
into the darkness,
becoming less and less myself

Somehow, you managed to pull me out,
back to shore,
back to safety

You had pulled me to the lighthouse,
the lighthouse of hope,
and that is where I will reside

Thank you
Let’s have dinner tonight,
In the humming breeze,
And the soothing sight.

Let us crush the stars,
Dip a straw,
And drink the wine.

Let us slice the moon,
Set the plate,
And take a bite.

Let us become a boat,
With dancing sparkles of the sea,
Let us float.

Let us sit on the shore,
And fly with the breeze.

Let us taste the sky,
And let the storms cease.

Let us walk to the garden,
And dance with the meditating trees.

Let us sleep,
On the tip of the grass,
And slip down to its knees.

Let us spin
To the melodies,
Of silence
And let the thoughts freeze.

Let the dreaming soil,
Kiss our tongue.

Let the enchanting
Sensation drip down
To our throat.

Let the cheeks moisten,
And let the heart unfreeze.

Reflecting the memories,

Of our last dinner,
Our last journey
Of love and seas.
This is a poem I wrote on a 2015 morning while travelling in a metro train. It was spontaneous but I like it very much!
G Feb 11
do tell my love,
ill come home
one day;

ill come home
one day,
when my mind
is clear
and i can stop
breathing
to look up
at the sky
and think,
'wondrous, beautiful
this world is
simply astounding.
so, this is
what i've been
missing?'
You pick me up at 8.

Nobody’s home, you’re dressed nicely
after a long day,

skin tight red dress.

You bring me close to your face,
put your lips to me, clasp mine in between yours,

your tongue rolls around my delicate glassy edges,
soft curves.

bright red lipstick leaves a stain.

you curl your fingers around me,
we tilt back together.

Tonight, you’re sad, lonely
looking to unwind, let go,

today’s been long, tiring, you need a distraction,

your hand trembles as you hold me, but

you won’t let go of me.
this poem is not about lust, it is about a wine glass.
Amanda Feb 5
When wild day collapses on me
I can't breathe or reach the air
My tired lungs are trying to find
That's the moment I need you there

I can stand up on my own
Til my endeavors start going wrong
When I become too weak to move
My consciousness depends on you to be strong

I try my hardest to be perfect
Sometimes my fickle hopes take flight
Once they are crushed again I know
You'll be waiting to make it right

You are my lasting refuge and relief
The anchor keeping me on sore feet
Your beautiful smile holds me here
Without you my wounded heart wouldn't beat
I like this one.
I want you
to lust
after me

I believe
in being
vile and rude

Try to
understand my language
of impure thoughts

Condemned to afterlife
without relieve
from woe

Where is
my foe
of bout and confrontation?

I must be
left alone
with suspicious ideals

That border
on
the extreme

Of my consciousness
borrowing into my mind
destroying my being

Preventing relief
to the
depths of Hades

I'm not an angel
nor a worn object of time
but the untamable beast fighting love
Karisa Brown Feb 1
I liked it better
When we fought
Then I could get attention
Then you'd call me out

Dear sweet attention
What's my name
Slap me
Berate me
Carmalize me instead

Make me pretty
Attention will follow
Many beds

Till I collapse underneath
My pillow instead
And crawl to walk
And walk I shall stay

Firm and steady
Not wishing I was dead
Past washed
Past watched
Not to show up
But to feel me
leave my IMPRINT
Uncertain futures number the leaves by summer's height
They linger and twitch teasingly in the hot July winds
The sounds keep her forest awake at night

The autumn comes sneaking in slowly
Turning and shivering those green hopes and fears
That rattled through her trees so loudly

They all fall away to an aching quiet of bare branches
Soon to have winter fills her wood's empty spaces
And blanket naked quivering bones with cotton colored chances

The peace of the chilled silence soon melts away
The future starts to weigh on her forest’s limbs once more
New life springs in with its ever-mounting buds of May.
©LadyofRavenhill 2018
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