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moonrabbit Nov 2020
Smoking out by a fire
in the middle of the day, the two young men wear straw hats–
gardening hats. T shirts. Shorts. Bare feet. Laughing and smoking ***.

The old woman approaches them.
They stop laughing and one of them
reverently hands her a joint.

She takes it and takes a long drag.

She wants to sit down.
But she hasn’t got time.
One of the boys stands up
from his camp chair and
guides her by the arm,
offering his seat.

Well all right she thinks. I have
time for one more.

The standing boy crouches on the
ground beside them.

The twilight is descending into darkness now. A midnight bunny bounds across the moon.

The woman laughs in recognition.
My mother told me that story when I was young, she says.

The two young men look at her respectfully, waiting for her offerings of human life stories–  of all the stories she has lived and those she has heard and those she has yet to find.

They wait and listen.

But she is silent at first.
She waits herself.
For something more
to strike her fancy.

The flames pop up, flicking bits of
light and ash into the treetops.
She sinks back in her chair and
watches the smoke rise.

She takes a drag on the joint and
hands it back to the boy. She sighs,
contented to look up at the smoke
and the treetops and the darkening blue sky.

The faintest flicker of a birdsong in the trees. Fireflies in the night.
Please don’t ask me to be brave
Let me lay my bones to rest
Just let me close my eyes.
Leave my thoughts
to reach the open skies.

Don’t tell me to stand my ground
My dear, I fear that I might fall,
I just might break again;
Don’t mind the tears
if I fail to keep them in.

The shadows come in waves
they loom above my head all day
they join me in my bed;
and when it's time
for sleep, I drown instead.

But if you’re tired of this as well
If you’ve run out of soothing words
and patience left to give,
I’ve left the door ajar—
Please know that you may leave.

Just let me take a breath;
The smile you see upon my face
is asphyxia within.

I apologize;
You must have hoped for me to win.
Corey Nov 2018
If I could spend every summer night outside,
in the grass or on the roof of my car, I would.
The way the air lingers is magical.
I never want to leave it.

But there's something about a winter night–
the haze of the faint orange glow–
when it arrives, it's so welcome.
It's a kind of quiet that summer nights don't have.

The silent descent of snow.
Krishnapriya Jul 2018
My heart is soft today
Thinking of the suffering
Of all those who are near
And those who are far
The known and unknown
Living beings everywhere
in pain - in their body and mind
Deep within in their souls
in any kind of tears
fears, trauma, heartache

I raise my eyes to heaven
Pray for light to surround them
The fragrance of love
Succor, consolation, respite
Now and forever more
i saw an ambulance go across the road from my house early this morning. May all live in the space of peace, free from suffering. All things are possible in God. I pray for that. Thank you for reading. So,so,so appreciate it. :)
the last word falls
like a mountain on a dove
a shadow on a child
a bullet through a rose
and no-one knows
quill rests between cold fingers
the ink
is dry
oldie
Poetic T Feb 2018
Elapsing into cognitive repercussions,
               a thought never one to fade.

Always an afterimage
  burnt on to the psyche
           of delicate dewdrops clinging.

Within a consciousness
              that never  evaporates
just lingers in a reflection of it hanging

Like its waiting to suffocate
           but the breath of reality
                              gives it respite.
long ago
we lay quietly in the aftermath
of an exhaustive period of rage
the eye
of this terrible storm
rendering a peaceful moment
'don't ever leave me'
you said
in such a pitiful whisper
that I almost believed you
such a haunting, calming plea
that I knew at that moment
I'd never forget this night
even if it be our last
oldie
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