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Mona May 2016
I heard the wild thunders as they approached my territory .
I felt your thirst for my blood in the air we call used to call home .
I  listened out for your remorsefulness in the way you ran against peace.

Silently I stood there waiting for the tides to turn in my favor .
Silently I stood there with my mouth open waiting to join your pack.
Silently I stood there waiting for your voice to pull me into your winds .

Blamelessly I stood on the cliff holding on to my dying flowers .
Blamelessly I stood on the cliff holding on the roaring currents .
Blamelessly I stood on the cliff only to descend to grave sites that I  know not of .

But don't agonize over me because
I got used to the fall, to the cold, to  the anguish.
Above everything else I bloomed before you even noticed.
So be sure you're not afraid when I  rise above thunders and roaring currents .



I AM A CLIFF SURVIVOR
I know how these things work ..........
A dedication to the cliff survivor who exists in all of us
Hello.

Welcome to my poem.
I would like to introduce you to
a few words of mine.
The words come from my mind.
       I can't remember where my mind found them
Like a friend, they comfort me,
grow me, make sense of me.

My mind is open. Step on in now.
Come in, have a seat,
   the words will be home shortly.
Be sure and take your shoes off
and close the door,
        we wouldn’t want to let any dirt in.

You and I talk for a while. We share a few
   words of our own.

There is a quick, heavy knock at the door,
the first word barges in.
Slightly rough, tired and stressed, comes up,
shakes the hand.
“Hello, I am Fear”
So Fear comes in and sits.
We talk for a while. Share a few more
words of our own.
Then another knock at the door. A hesitant tap, like
someone was left behind.
Fear says “oh, thats my Of”
Fear yells at the door to “come in
and close the door and take your shoes off,
keep the dirt out.”

So we all sit and pass around
some words now.
It’s taking a while though.
It’s almost nightfall, and there
is one more word.

The sun is going down. Moon in the clouds.
A Word loud, roaring closer and closer.
A growing Light ending in my eyes.
A Light entering through the windows of my mind.
"Come in Come in!"
Such glorious Light. My door is open.
The knock is loud. From every direction.

Of is curled up in the couch.
"Fear" just ****** on the white carpet.
This knock will never end.

The door opens.

"Of" pulls it together, brings "Fear" to its feet.
Both "Fear" and "Of" stand to welcome this Word at the door, and together,
like a friend,
they comfort me,
they grow me,
make sense of me.
The last Word comes and sits with me.
All sharing words with the
"Fear Of God."
this is a repost of the first poem I put on HelloPoetry with a new title.

Inspired by Proverbs 1
Kathleen M Aug 2015
My skull echos loudly
Inside are roaring thoughts
Pounding like waves crashing into ships
I need quiet, I need tranquility
Perhaps if I opened the lid of my scalp
I could spill out all the excess noise
As I sew my scalp in place Clarity would whisper in my ear "peace is yours dear"
Clarity sweeping her delacate fingers across my restless bones
The rattling would stop
The roaring would silence
At the touch of Clarity 's shimmering skin
Lunar Mar 2015
I look out to the sea
Which reminds me of you
My thoughts reach out
But you get carried further away
To the depths of despair
To the farthest corner
You leave me behind
But my boat still stays
High atop the waves, over looking the world apart
she stands with tender hands, ready to caress Seas Heart
calming the storm, riding the waves
water will sound, hiding in the tiniest caves
echoes through night, to hear his masters voice
his head held high, nudging her lovely choice
until the morning breaks, the dew breaks over the ocean
the salt as thick as thieves, while the waves are roaring like a locomotion ...

Rose, an offspring of beauty and strength,
skies of fire and burn from afar and add quite a length
floods of water racing over the top
head pounding like fire, what a flop
burning sensations of the salt
to the tongue taste like malt
Rose pulled and prodded what a enchanted fairly was she
Seas Heart raged back neighing, a free spirit was he
trying to find their home once again
their copulation coming to a glorious end.

Debbie Brooks 2014

— The End —