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LONE STAR May 2022
Do you believe I love you?
Six words that were enough
To bring my life to a stand still
Even my feet couldn't stand it
Doubt,no it's not what I saw in your eyes
Love,that you have for me

Do you believe I love you?
Six words  that were enough
To remind me how empty I felt before I met you
Even my heart smiles just at the thought of your name
Wait, doesn't my touch express how much you mean to me
My eyes, don't you see that when I look at you the whole world ceases to exist

Do you believe I love you?
Six words that were enough
To make me laugh
I'm sorry it's not amusement
My dear one,no it's assurance that you seek
You know, that even before you asked the answer is so evident

Do you believe I love you?
Six words that were enough
To bring tears to your eyes
Which made my heart ache
My voice just had to break
Ofcourse I believe you love me
Why else would your touch set fire to my blood
Yes I believe you
© Lone Star ✨ poet
Even my eyes show the depth of my love for you
saint8 Apr 2022
Under a rock
In the messiest river
You have given me
A power jam

It is red
And shiney
And it burns
With passion

If you hold it closely
You'd see the cracks
And feel the endless vibration
I always think it might break

But the red rock keeps it's structure
For every time I tried it
It has yet to fail me
It has shown me new lenghts

I am terrified it might fall into little pieces
One day
But as you promised
It always held together
Tempests may surround
in the worst of times
a storm to level ships
capsize friend and foe alike
waves that change not just lives
but memory
how tragedy frames our desires
as need, rather than options
as love, rather than responsibility
how the quilt of phoenix feathers
that we oft cover us for slumber
molts as we shed our tears
molts as we age through life
and though times do change
and shadows creep beneath the door frame
still we hear the voice whisper,

"The winds of victory are soon to come."

Memories are trinkets we trade for action
we trade for purpose
we trade for comfort
Efforts spent crafting the perfect memories
catch up to our imaginations over time
Snapshots we thought were sublime
Calamities we shut the door upon
In the kaleidoscope of reality
we can see their colors change
what was treasured becomes tattered with use
what was feared becomes power over abuse
As we build our lives from ashes
no longer need for phoenix feathers
as we shatter walls of illusion
fact from fiction
truth from delusion
we come to hear the voice command,

"The winds of victory are soon to come."

And there is a tumult in the cupboards
under the floorboards
in the rafters
an aching shout of protest
a rapping upon the windows of the soul
a look, in the eyes, of horror
a clinging on to the raft of hope
a desperate jump to the cliff of salvation
a plunging fall into starvation
a rushing flight into the arms of the past
a stepping back from its cold clutches
a fervent climbing of the mast
looking out to the distant horizon
seeing how light is carved from darkness
knowing how you were made this way
and that your limitations
are at the mercy of your love
walking forward, proudly saying,

"The winds of victory are here at last!"

And how the winds whirl about you
as you dance in the curls and twists
walking upon the waves of anguish
waves of guilt, love, and praise,
to know they all complete you
and that the storm is who you are
you build the foundations
that will prepare you
for becoming
a guiding star
that leads your loved ones to the noble place
where your dreams would lead you thus far
a place of healing
a place of trust
a place we all know is here
within.
To my friend, Amanda, on her birthday.
May this and every day be one of joy or little victories amidst the struggle of life.
Keep fighting your battles with your heart to guide your journey and your mind to light the way.

Much love,

DEW
M Solav Apr 2022
Where is that hand,
That motherly embrace,
Which comforts in its ****** -
That motherly hand I can trust?

Where is that hand,
That warming caress,
Which eases the nerves -
That cocoon of soft curves?

  There is no rest anymore
  In thoughts of exile and escape;
  My being is shaken to the core,
  My soul bent under the stress.

Where is that hand,
That soothing absence,
Which cradles you gently -
That silence of calm and mercy?

Where is the hand,
That promise of better days,
Which relieves innocently -
That convincing “don’t worry”?

  There is no rest anymore
  In thoughts of exile and escape;
  My being is shaken to the core,
  My soul bent under the stress.
Written on August 7th, 2021;
Completed in April 2022.


— Copyright © M. Solav —
www.msolav.com

This work may not be used in entirety or in part without the prior approval of its author. Please contact marsolav@outlook.com for usage requests. Thank you.
Karijinbba Mar 2022
His light house amidst
his mystic fog, signals belated
in triumphant decore,
Enamoured with ancient joy
of his blue green dreams
I chant.
“His rod and his staff
comfort me and all surrounding
gore departs.
I breathe in gasping
about my true love.
as he spots my battered
vessel into the wind sailing.
  Ecstasy twinkles his teary eye
   in the magic water dancing glare,
of our mystical full moon light.

For too long I've traveled
jeweled triumphant
yet unable to reach
his promised treasure vaults.

To the greed of legions on
treacherous paths all alone I wept,
through enemy's territories,
but all those from me have fled.

I roamed alone yester woods
I reach his safe private harbour
his peaceful shores.
As trustworthy jeweled queen
regardless of grave loss.

Willfully he reveals his home key
to come open up his door
as photographic memories
on new calming waters
get anchored deep.

At last I shall rest in love
on my bittersweet bed of roses
red, and flowers wild;
   white sad lilies on hand,
saluting my beloved glories
recaptured and retained.

Enduring rhythmic ways
with courage, heart
brain and hope and off my
survival modes into éasier dwelling
  into my grave but neither there
I shall trod alone no more.
~~~~~~
By Karijinbba
All rights.
https://youtu.be/rFEv_ZjCTuE
Sabika Mar 2022
Could you separate life
From the living,
The scripture
From the pope?
The teacher
From their history
Could you find that glimmer
Of hope?

Could you forgive
Betrayal?
If not
Do you have a limit?
Could you see weakness
And still
Accept it?

What if it never amends
Or if it’s never acknowledged?
Could You forgive and forget a broken promise?
Could you trust?
Could you be trusted?
Could you fix what is broken
Without the knowledge?

Maybe you could
If you had to choose between
Losing a part of yourself
And losing something dear to you.
Or if you had to choose between
Being alone
And forgiving someone who has wronged you.

And could you
Accept an apology
Of someone who
Has done something
They could never take back?
Could you accept an apology
For a pattern
Occurring behind your back?

I will not be walked all over.
I will not be taken as a fool.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
But
What you did to me,
To us,
Was nothing short of cruel.
And I don’t know if you mean it
When you said you were sorry
Or you’re only sorry
Now that you can’t hide
The consequences,
Now that I have to
Deal with this
For the rest of my life.
And I love you,
But
If forgiveness means
To trust you one more time,
I wouldn’t be able to lie.
xavier thomas Mar 2022
You know it’s time to go
Don’t amp up your ego
Don’t worry about the romance
You know you’re the definition of a real man

Focus back on your dreams
People depending on you, focus on that team
Just regroup and relax
Your wife will reveal herself, and you know that

I know your heart’s scarred
Yes it *****, but it must end
Just trust me, Zay, you don’t belong to them
Let go you’re not the problem

Look in the mirror and smile
There’s know need to be angry
If it’ll be awhile, then it’ll be a while
Remember you got God, Jesus, and me (you)
Speaking to yourself in the mirror
solEmn oaSis Mar 2022
since no inspection** from the untaming spectator

corruptor said, sinkhole may not have abduction

governing through the skills and power of possession

manipulation of resources gains from the uprising.

hence person of interest
created a Triads of crest
no more - no less
go for it, do mess

fence with a perimeter of staplings indulgence

keeping the dark secret floating by influence

bitter-sweet memories punctuated in by offense

higgledy-piggledy moments
of so true lies to dispense

sense of time and chime framing into a collage
not knowingly the insight of the other conspiring colleague
hot stuffy might get play by the edged ruler
*** of a golden word tightly encoded bolder

dense heritage is one of the hesitancy

privacy of those possibilities dare to disperse

inverse and reinvest the so called benefit of the doubt

sought out the figuring depth of outcome versus rehearse
working term !
prove to be a better doer..
don't be just like a starry-teller
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