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PrttyBrd Feb 2015
Oh keeper of my soul
Guardian of the sky
Seep within my depths
Deposit your tender heart
For I will defend it with all that I am
With the fight of a warrior,
I will protect thee
With the spirit of a mother,
I will nurture
And heal your scars beautiful
My love, all of my love,
I lay bare before you
Ingest me, consume me
Infuse me into your purest essence
The fire of dragons lays dormant within
Awakened with purpose alone
Protecting fiercely the most delicate of hearts
Mine is in your charge
As yours is in mine
Espoused and revered
To the death
Without fear
We will vanquish the shadows of doubts
Casting out with them
The lies that would beseech us stay
Timeless and eternal,
Coterminous, harmonious
One and the same are we
Born united
We are infinite, fated
Bounden and bound
One
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Gwen Pimentel Feb 2015
When our hair turns gray
And our memories fade
When our bones get weak
And we lose our teeth
When our meds increase
And our hearings decrease
When everything else turns gray and old
I promise you, our love will stay safe and gold
Immortalized in this poem, my love
For the generations to unfold
Mile Conde Jan 2015
Destiny is mute.
Soundless.
We create our own fate
Or we get carried away by it's currents.

Uncertain paths await for us.
Waiting to be transited.
While undying hands run against the past
And minutes turn into hours.

The clock is impatient.
It won't stop for anyone.
Keep walking, you passer-by
Or you'll get stuck in a memory.

There's not an end for everything.
There are things that are eternal.
Your hand in mine is timeless
Our joined hips are feral.
Life goes by fast enough for us to realize that being detached and fearful keeps you from really living.
Lennox Jones Jan 2015
even after all this
time it's still like
the very first
kyle Shirley Jan 2015
I had a dream about her again... she was mine like always. But something always happens in it where we are not together. Like the dream just makes me happy with what I want, taunts me, then shes gone. I mess up again like I did in life or she just disappears.  Dreams are the only thing I look forward too, bc she does come walking back into my life. " I miss the air so much, I miss my wife, its so lonely out in space, on such a timeless flight... I think its gonna be long long time, till touch down brings me around again to find, im not the man I think I am at home..." perfection and happiness is just... a dream.
Tryst Jan 2015
Upon that day and in that park
Two lovers lorn in statued pose
Entwined limbs, tight as tree to bark,
Soft as scented summer meadows,
Orchestrated by the larks
As timeless as a river flows

And passing by, an endless stream
Of strangers came and stragglers went
And all who stared upon the scene
Of statues carved with love's intent
Would oft' recall their sweet serene
Beguiling stares of merriment

And time that brings to man the dark
Of endless nights in sleep's repose,
To leave a stately stony mark
Where flowers wilt beneath the boughs,
Will oft' recall a peaceful park
Where lovers stood in statued pose
First published 10th January 2015, 20:00 AEST.
Null Dec 2014
Again and again
Over and over
Time never stops but here it never changes
Day after day
Night after night
I wake up everyday and I dream every night
The same dream and the same routine
Does it ever end
Again and again
Over and over
déjà vu
Francie Lynch Dec 2014
Uncle Eoin walks his fields
At odd times day and night;
When I visit he's asleep,
But not his cows and sheep.
The cows low blithely,
The lambs bah lightly,
There's no cause for alarm.

He's adding on the years,
And since my Granny died,
Eoin lives on his own,
Childless and untied.

Eoin tries to maintain health
With little money
But awash in wealth.
He doesn't worry
As we do,
Being mortgage free,
Debt-free too.
He always knows
Where to eat,
His white-washed house
Still burns peat.
The stone wall fields
Mark creation's expansion,
From first to last dimension.

He rises when I call
From outside the house:
Time has little meaning,
No matter what the season.
He calls down,
Who's there?
Francie! I yell  back.

You'd think my accent,
My singular name
Would tell him it was me,
So I'm surprised
When Eoin replies,
Francie who?
To me.

He rumples down
To the blue front door
That doesn't quite
Reach the floor.
Rot has eaten much.
It swings quite well,
Considering,
It's balancing on one hinge.

Eoin wears similar clothes
I saw him wearing
Years ago.
He has a robust crop
Of hair,
As thick as smithy steel,
And snow-white
And grizzly fair.

He dips his ***
Into a pail of water,
Boils it with
The tea bag in,
And stirs it with
His finger.
The mug he offers
Needs a sledge and chisel
To chip at stains
Thick as Irish thistle.
I accept resigned,
Knowing Jameson
Comes with time.

Eoin is himself again,
After tea and toast
And insulin.

He carpets his rough floor
With red-dotted slips of paper,
Used checking his blood sugar.
They're the only color
In a room,
Black with soot,
Still dark at noon.

His sitting room is 12 X 10
With an antique cooker
Not lit since when;
A string of socks above the stove,
Hard from drying, yet never moved.
A propane burner against
An outside wall
Provides some warmth in winters;
But missing window panes
Defeat the warming currents.

My stay never last too long,
An hour, seldom two,
But Eoin never leaves my thoughts
Across the miles of blue.
Don't sympathize with Eoin,
He's turning ninety-two.
Edit and repost.
Eoin (pronounced Owen). Not many of his ilk left.
Patterns float
obscured
by uncertain mists
recreating
a scene perceived
and painted
in washes of water colour
overlapping, merging
transfixed
fresh and timeless.

The shape
of routine activities
unpredictably change
or shatter
behind
the inexorable advance of time
as sequences
inevitably retreat
into a fading future
until the circle is complete.
PrttyBrd Dec 2014
it is there
in the eyes of the soul
in the emotion conveyed
in the words unspoken
in the shared breath of a warm kiss

it is there
in the chill of absence
in the dawn of day
in the shadow of darkness
in the heart that bleeds

it is there
in every moment
in every thought
in every subtle nuance
in the fabric of time itself
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