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Ovi-Odiete Jul 2016
Life has a soul,
That touches every hole.
Dancing to the tone,
But life itself has a dark side.
Darkening that space within hearts,
With twists and turns,
Leaving us Pondering.
Till death do us part,
We will ever wonder.

Ovi Odiete
Life (1) is the first poem about life in my LIFE series poem....
They are short poems written about life..........
More of the life series will be published.
Originally written 2015
Shreekant Dhuri Apr 2016
Was a man who believed
To read was to pray
The sound, the smell, the touch
Of books, truly made his day.

"I'll collect books," he thought
"To read to my hearts content."
And so he did, filling chests
In pursuit of his intent.

He bought and he brought
He stocked and he stored.
Reading forgotten, collecting
Meant so much more.

"Books so countless
Their stacks so tall
I would not live," he'd say
"To read them all!"

It's funny how fate works
The man's wish came true.
But not quite so fantastic
As the dreams he drew.

The books he collected
In his bibliophilic lust,
The termites left him naught
But some dunes of dust.
Cat Fiske Apr 2016
The evergreens twist and fade away,
This only brings forth the light of day,

and in the cold night,
we will meet underneath the moon,

underneath the storms of the land,
full of evergreens gloom,

and when we meet again,
underneath the moon,

The stars will fade,
to a blackened blue,

and the moon will shine,
until the day is due,

the moon will shine,
until it's time is through,

and we see the moon,
disappear today,

like our evergreens,
who twisted and faded away,

we learn in the light of the sun,
the evergreens have left with no return,

when we cry a tear,
the sun will make them fade,

we twist as we hold each other close,
as we wish to fade away,

And the moon appears,
next to the sun,

and the evergreens come back,
to surround us and make us one,

and the stars come out,
and dust off the blackened dirt,

and we all sit inside,
of the earth,
A song I made on my uke,
K Balachandran Mar 2016
To make a long, curious, story short,
the damsel in distress a while forgot,
her troubles, rescued him from the rot,
and in the process found her way out.
heard the age old story of damsels waiting
for princes in shining armor for rescuing,
ad nausem,wanted a change as reality is different,
now is the time when damsels are in missions
to rescue boys still not men,  in distress
let's put the record straight, give her her due
Dr Strange Mar 2016
Hello mother
Hello father  
It has been a long time since we went our separate ways
Sorry I haven't come to visited you in awhile
Been kind of torn considering this is my faught
If only I had listened you we would've still been a family
I miss you guys
In fact I just wanted to say I love you guys
Of course I can't say it to your face anymore
I’m scared, it’s so cold without your warmth
I’m just sorry
Sorry I took my own life
I hope you can forgive me for causing you so much pain
Well I guess this is goodbye
Hope we can be together again on the other side
Scarlet Niamh Jan 2016
Tongue tied, my twisted eyes
Allow me to see the truth,

Yet my vocabulary evaporates
Whenever I see you.
~~ For you, there are no words. ~~
L Marie Dec 2015
There's nothing like the impending new year
Than to make you realize
How far you've come
Forward or backward
Or perhaps you didn't move at all,
Stuck on square one.

I always thought we stayed in one place
A few steps closer
Until a sudden pang,
Sent us flying back
All the way to square one;
I've realized I was wrong.

Square one was just a single step back
To refocus,
We've grown so close,
Only like a spiral,
Circling further and further in,
All to one center.

Reflecting now, we are truly the same
For we do not attack straight on,
Like a line;
Instead, we are cautious,
Handling what's precious
In careful hands.

What feels like square one and a step
Is more like an ocean we've crossed;
Patience is the key to a treasure chest
And maybe, we just hit land;
Now it's time to pace (ourselves)
And follow the maps drawn on our hearts.
Chris D Aechtner Sep 2015
Dressed-up words
misguide our naked thoughts
far more than naked thoughts
influence the use of dressed-up words.

Words can be a narcissistic cover-up
or
masks expressing secondary emotions,
even if the wordsmith
is begging to be
needed.

If one desires to communicate
with a purer intent,
to cut through language's sinew
of misinterpretation,
and into truth's marrow,

such communication can happen
within wordless silence
where blooms
touch
waves
salt
sweat
true north,

pantings
in the cold;
the swelling heat
of iron ignition.

When my tongue dissolves the words,
laps up innuendos
and syntax errors of reality
from in-between
the honeyed surface
of language,
over-stimulation
spins me deliriously.

If
this
needs a pause,
a breath to breathe,
to feel the distance,

our wavelengths
will never cease
to communicate.



September 12th, 2015
Neex Sep 2015
It took more hurt,
But I get it now.

How could I be so stupid,
To let them take my hurt,
And make it about them,
*Just to get out of their own guilt.
And I fell for it,
Every time.
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