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Jo Barber Jul 3
I was not beautiful.
Too sharply did the features
of my face intermingle,
strong eyebrows jutting
over a too pale face.

But the more I saw of
this strange and magnificent world,
the more beautiful I became.
Every sun setting
over peaceful lakes
at home and abroad,
among strange company
and familiar,
added to my essence.

The cliffs and the rivers
and the sun screaming
its multi-colored cry
above me imbued itself
in my eyes.

The world's beauty filled mine
and I grew light with the burden of such joy.
vern Jun 5
there is so much I want to see
wonders I've never glanced at
art I've never seen
skies I've never gazed at
seas I've never looked at
homes I've never peered at
there is so much I want to see
and yet I still haven't opened my eyes yet
that is the question
Time to leave
Break the screens
And find our true eyes
To live the dream
Leave the clean
And head out for a ride

The American dream we seek
To go out for a week
And look for some hell to rise
Get drunk under the stars
Stare at mars
And smoke all the grass i can find

For the American dream
Is were the real people meet
And talk about the times
To do drugs with a couple of thugs
And meet again up in the sky

To discuss the cancer
That grows in our homes
And molds itself to the young
That has done went
And ruined their minds
And destroyed them
Of their good times

For they will never understand
That long travel across the land
Looking for those great friends of mine.
The American Dream has never changed, Hunter S. Thompson layed out the ideas of the american dream that cultures today will never understand.
Midge Jan 20
memories
full of wonder
and light
filled my mind
and sense of sight
those were
the dreams
in my imagination
a whole new world
in another dimension
completely random
Abby M Dec 2018
I'm glad I live in an average place
So that I can keep my breath
Who cares about the lack of sights
If my lungs keep me from death
And sure it's not quite pretty
But there's certainly some charm
To back up quiet living
Without tracheal alarm
We eat in the restaurants
Eat in the bars
By the bistros
Against the street or on the ground
It does not matter where we are found
As we eat like we are dancing
With no one around
Who could possibly be watching?

Inside your own home
A house of a lone star
Impossibly pondering
How the pauper used wood
And turned it into cooking.

Food can be shared for
A life once cared for
Kept to yourself
Perhaps you beg not to share it
An octagon plate and octagon jades
Caramel vinegar rain
Tossing and turning with lightning veins.
© Teri Darlene Basallote Yeo
Electric sun twirls its lava skirt.
Slammed woks.
Peanuts, chilli, limes and oil
Feeding him its lunch.
Shelter to chilli cheeks and peppercorn faces.
The air can't move its obese body to the rivers for a dip.

Darkness is hard with sturdy edges.
Curtains made of invisible beads and threads hang over the night in silence.
They spill against the concrete under rough hooves and feet
For the night falls like tight heavy lids.
Dusk is a bruised tunnel of vision.

Candlelit giants blinking rapidly.
You don't speak
For the night is never empty
The silence never lonely
Stampede of restlessness surrounding
Grinning from squint to squint
Raising embraces and chance encounters
They scream loudly to frighten the dawn.
© Teri Darlene Basallote Yeo
Poetic T Nov 2017
Once upon a time I climbed
a tree, up here I was carefree.
But as I reached the top, an invite
of views now gifted upon me.

Could I breath in these views of
grandeur, as I leaned on a sore knee.
I'll never give up majestic illustrations,
this sight I gaze upon beyond expectations.
LexiSully Oct 2017
Her eyes were glued to a sky full of stars,
But she was dreaming of something bigger than Mars

Somehow the constellations would just realign,
Opening up a portal to all space and time

Distant galaxies sang, danced and laughed all night,
Persuading her to stay and relax ‘til light

The dawn would come much to her dismay,
But then the sun rose, showing her a new way

The light glistened with every step taken,
And her whole being somehow felt more awaken

Mountains climbed high and streams ran fast,
Making her wish this moment would last

Colors frolicked and pranced across the distant sky,
Giving her beauty of which to testify

But soon dusk would come, and she welcomed it grinning,
For she knew these dazzling sights were just the beginning.
Lyn-Purcell Sep 2017
Silence falls truthful
Trouble brews of love long lost
Children laugh loudly

Raining of lovers
Love's embrace is free to go
Markets spread lively

Young women lament
Nothing now collapsing slow
Singers by the lake

Hear beats among friends
Riding over metal bridge
Silence in my mind

Fountains flows lively
Nature's grasp in tranquil minds
Flags drift over there
Haikus I wrote on a bus journey around my local area. Perhaps I should do more of these? I really enjoyed it!
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