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Eriko Jul 2016
what a whopping willow
slinging sunlight
cascading off of falls
like the sea-enriched spray
of another lifeline
anchored in the crease
of a out-reached city
busting restlessly
in spite of the
whopping willow tree
sorry it's been so long since I wrote
SassyJ Jul 2016
Seems like the time
I searched the sunlight
Seems like the time
I watched the moonlight
My eyes so wide
above the sunset
Seem like the time
I touched the sunlight

Half moon
Half sun
Half river
Full moon
sun rays
blind my sight
Halt, stop
the world is moving
So slow, so slow
this movie

Half tunes
Half dreams
Half heavens
Half real
Half humoured heathens
Halt, stop
the snake is biting
the fangs, the fangs
so drilling

Seems like the time
I searched the sunlight
Seems like the time
I watched the moonlight
My eyes so wide
above the sunset
Seem like the time
I touched the sunlight
For audio follow:
https://soundcloud.com/user-367453778/touched-the-sunlight
Tara Marie Jul 2016
I used to see just shadows
painted on concrete.
Scared of seeing sun above;
With whom our forms compete.  

I thought that only shadows
surrounded me before.
Before you painted color
in sunlight, off the floor.

I walked around in trances
evaluating time.
Trying to move forward, empty,
walking a straight line,

Until I felt your fingertips,
Collapsed beneath your shade,
Inhaled the air escaping you,
And watched the daylight fade.

The shadows I believed in
Weren't shadows anymore.
They're pieces of a puzzle
Filled with life and dreams galore.

You show me there is more to this
Than working everyday.
There's moments, seconds, memories
I hope won't go away.

I hope our lips colliding
Will never be routine.
That we will never frown
When smelling racing gasoline.

I wish that late night thoughts
Continue to be said.
That every bit of stubbornness
Stays within your head.

I hope you'll never see the
Ink upon my skin as boring,
That no one else within this world
Will write you notes each morning.

You showed me shadows only are our
footprints on the ground.
You're the one. The only,
With whom my heart is bound.
Reed, my constant sunlight ❤️
Ciel Jul 2016
The poison is in all of us:
Half-smoked cigarettes lay on the side of grainy gravel paths,
crinkly Dollarama bags and glass beer bottles.
We relax on trees
leaning
backs against the braille texture of bark
that tries to speak to us in a language we don’t understand.
We lean back and raise our faces
towards the sunlight dancing between
the leaves of the canopy,
listening to the tires
whizzing against concrete,
but think it similar to the smacking of waves against stones;
lean back and savour the syrupy smell of maple trees
against our tongues,
thinking to ourselves
how grateful we are for nature
as we sit in a paradise of tall trees
their branches intertwined in a space
smaller than bathroom stalls;
lean back and breathe in exhaust
and cigarette smoke masked
behind a layer of sweet antiperspirants
and coconut-scented shampoos
as the wind whips hair against your face.
We take peaceful naps against the undeciphered braille,
but the poison is in all of us
and one day this paradise will become
nothing.
A bed of dirt
blanketed by prickly store-bought
strips of grass.
Joshua Brown Jun 2016
The hot June sky breathes heavily upon the tree after which I was named, which may shield me from the light of the sun, but not its violent heat or the overburdened air from which I fight each breath, air which assaults the browning grass that gave up long ago when the rains had begun, dampening the ground and the air, and so they remain, and so wildflowers grew with pious fervor oblivious to traffic, and clouds hang with handsome and gracious indifference to the Joshua tree below.
Jasmine May 2016
The sun is glowing
shining through
the ways it lays on you
oh baby
I can see it sweeten
the skin
underneath my lips
this kiss
can be breakfast
all I need is you
and that thing you do
the way you play
yea
it makes me think
I'm back in the 60s
this is our summer
baby
and all we got is love.

And that's enough.
The drops of gold
Break through
The cover of leaves
I’m hiding behind
Peeking through
Touching me
Warming me
Making me realize
All the good
I’m hiding from
All the things
I should be happy about
The yellow rays
Burning the bad
Purifying my thoughts
Changing my mind
And I run out
Wanting to make a memory
Of this happy
Golden moment.
jane taylor May 2016
pain knocks on weathered doors
fastened ever tightly
cryptic access is denied
it camouflages in the shadows

stealthily it watches
hypervigilance enhancing
catastrophe awaiting
it strikes in latent graveyards

the gale begins to form
and unleashes its fierce torrent
the latch shattered and torn
there’s now an open entrance

creeping in it slithers
engulfing to encompass
digging up emotions
buried underground there

hovering and foggy
tho’ murky does not smother
but fleshes out the psyche
entombed and cobweb covered

it crawls along the edges
and peers in secret ledges
seeps into sequesters
like dust settled in feathers

it slides through every feeling
and when it’s at its blackest
it carves the darkness out
and let’s in sunlight’s presence

© 2016janetaylor
Vamika Sinha Apr 2016
the tenderest thing. the tenderest thing.
is stumbling
in the hollow between
life's collarbones. it feels just like
velvet.

innocent. a moment.
crushed-soft, caught you unaware.
as vulnerable as hot
breath
alighting on your neck. his
fingers lacing round your ribs.
a moment.

innocent.
placing lunch plates in the sink
getting washed by sunlight instead.
a glow on metal
so bright, so clean
you think of a baby's skin.
warm.
like love.
like love exists
in everything.

the tenderest thing. the tenderest thing.
Caitlin Apr 2016
I’m not sure I believe in auras but I do believe in vibes.
Different people make me feel different ways.
Instinct, I guess.
I have a friend who makes me feel like I just drank 3 Monsters, and can’t sit still, constantly moving, too nervous to be calm.
Another who feels like waking up late on a summer Saturday, curled up in bed, like sunshine and freshly washed sheets.
And a third who makes me feel like I just chain smoked a pack of Marbolo Reds and can’t focus, because everything is spinning.
I believe I have loved them all, at different times and in different ways, but I’m still not sure which of the three was the best for me.
Or if everyone I’ll come to love is going to give off a vibe,
I hope they do- maybe these “vibes” are my sign,
making it painfully obvious that these people are going to mean something to me.
A reminder to stick it out and keep my heart open.
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