Esther 19h

To all my demons:
Hello and welcome – back.
My chest is open for your return,
Pining for the familiar pressure
Of your phantom limbs pressed against my ribs
And slowing the blood flow to my heart.
I wonder, has your presence really lessened me?
Has your presence really ruined me?
Because the lower the blood pressure,
The harder it is to gather up
The courage, the steadiness, the willingness
To act on your orders.

To all my demons:
Hello and how are you – today?
I can’t say I don’t think about your well-being
The moment I wake from the loneliness,
Thinking maybe I’ll never get an answer
If you ever stay away.
They say you’re never really fulfilled,
Until you wish upon your enemies
The same happiness you want for yourself;
And here I am in this pit you’ve dug for me,
Floating on my tears,
Hoping in silence for your own freedom - from me.
My own pruning hands will hold the door shut
As I say this,
Hoping you continue to suffocate us both,
Gracing me with your reliable company – daily.

It may be low of me to even so much as assume that you're still there, still listening.
But I'm still here, ever the quiet sufferer and silent muse.
My silvertongue has gone hazy.
To make way for gold?
Perhaps not.

i'm back. not sure i've changed for the better...
Alan S Bailey Jul 10

Always the flow of water-across muddy banks and
Passages into lakes filled with the essence of nature,
Pulling tides and the smell of alpine, hickory wood and
firn. Always the flow of life-ever passive, trance state,
Picking up speed it rushes, like the sound of blood rushing
Through the earths veins, towards endless vinyards and orchards,
Cascading over cliffs like sparkling mist, into ravines and it continues
On. Into the forest, into the pines and the sage brush-not thinking,
Quick to find solace in this mid-morning dew, this canopy, deer hide.
Continue to be cloaked by the grass and thistle, branches and vines,
Not stopping, ever residing in it-never looking back until reaching that
One point where it is certain that the past concrete, cement and steel,
Are but a thing of memories of tragic times to be kept so forever, never
Looking back, never to return or see them again until the very world ends.

Always the tide of stream water, endless in the universe, it's strength,
And it's endless source, that source, from which all life flows...

A H S Jul 9

I am the guard
To my fortress

I have the lock
I have the key

To the towering walls
That surround
My happiness
My feelings
And my soul

Only when the safety
Of another surrounds

Will I give you the key
to my heart

In which in return
You must protect it
With your life

Or else the dingy dungeon
Awaits your soul
For eternity

A H S Jul 9

Darling hold on

For I will wait
For your return

To then be in your arms
For forever and ever

Where our happiness
Will grow and be nurtured
For the rest of time.

MU Jun 24

Words in my head
Stir up with the thoughts of the day
Mix into torment

I am looming around
Nowhere but inward
Deeper into the oblivion
Of unspoken poems

But they
Eventually
Will be out
Explode in sparks
To rattle the existence
That wraps my destiny
To set me
Once more
Free...

I’m back
Though never really gone...

I think my 'creative break' has come to an end. I must write poems again. Hello Poetry, I missed you.
Zan Balmore Jun 19

Move. Shift. Effortless.
Leave. Return. Don't.
Return.

Hollow.
Where the love was grown.
Dejected earth.

Cry. Wallow. Fatigued.
Return or Don't.
Return.

The flora found the trashcan.

Have your empty earth.

4 of 4

thanks for reading.
love ya'll
K Jun 14

Tis' a tale foretold
A pattern so bitter
Your veil is sold
To the highest of bidders

The right one knows
With the mind that is clear
The left one talks
Through denial and fear

Your true beauty sleeps
Till the acting is over
When you open your eyes
Return to your lover

Zan Balmore Jun 12

When you leave
A deeper shard of me
Flees til you return

When you breathe
You steal none of my parts
You my love, gift me
I gift you my energies

Four.

For Toby.
Leonila Jun 11

The Canvas of Her Soul

Forty years
Tell of the story
Of her life
That is such
As the canvas of her soul
Told through a painting

Myriad tones
Hues mixed in palette
Manifold
Colors cast
The brush slaps paint on canvas
Portrait depiction

Her design
Picture of His love
Stains tell of
Elixir
The Great Artist of her life
Traces of His love

Her outline
Angles of her cheeks
Graced by hues
Radiance
Vivacity in spirit
Soul's intensity

He relished
In her sweet figure
Blossom lips
Magnified
In her eyes were magnolias
Enhanced by ambers

Bronze tresses
Alluring swept maine
Copper curls
Entwined hair
Expressions of her painting

Moving frame
Her anatomy
He took pride
He fashioned
Her fluttering like the wind
Untamed butterfly

Scarlet tints
Through out the canvas
Marks of love
Told by Him
Painter that paints her portrait
His love that endures

Finished work
Unfinished business
The canvas
Lives in her
Intensity in her face

Tale of love
Told in poetry
Recorded
In writing
Excellent composition
The story of love

Weary girl
Hardship of years gone
Out of reach
Tarnished art
Stands before the one she loves
He knows her story

Unaware
Of her soul's own worth
She meets him
Once again
The Great Artist of Her Life
Sees right through her heart

Her soul cries
Before her great love
Warped canvas
Faded cloth
Pleading to erase the scars
Embedded with time

He glances
At His loving muse
Tears welling
Blinded eyes
Asking to renew the vow
He pleads from His love

Enchanting
Was His gorgeous bride
Who left Him
Walked away
Seeking love in distant lands
Found herself again

Celebrate
This love encounter
Butterfly
Who took flight
Has come home to her husband
The muse has come home

Together
The story now ends
Joyous end
Love story
Of the canvas of her soul
And He that loves her.

Copyright©All rights reserved~Leonila 2016

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