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Colm May 2017
When surrounded by darkness of every kind
As the fog of sadness hangs it head
To wallow low, in the valley below

Only you can smile, be it there beside
Only you can be gracious and ever kind
Within that moment

May you be so, for those who you know will not be so
For the retaliation is not to react
But only to only act out of what is kind

That way your own head won’t hang low
As you pass through this
The valley of perpetual time
A Reason For Kindness
K Balachandran May 2017
his twitching hand rests
on her warm thigh, say her sighs:
" valley is abloom"
A strawberry red bale
that gratitude was dale
but her waist ran a bijou
a chestful day in May  

and her thigh was derry with such a motif
that was ye trumpet from Sunnyvale tonight

where her sweet tooth went ravishingly bare
while incredible vibration she'd shareware
indeed, a variation hypnotically sound
like her chestnut roasting bonfire where

tactfully dressed in love attire
we happen to know that travel so far
with the web now our thoroughfare

and dire by dawn fit her ankle again
that entail her sprangle
though her selfie is the grandeur soon
with foetuses In her bottom.
Richard Grahn Apr 2017
A pleasant valley
Offers its serenity:
Tossed in the moonlight.
It seems that I'm in Haiku mode this morning.
Zero Nine Mar 2017
She's lounging on the futon playing Stardew Valley. We both get a kick out of it. Mainstream gaming can **** a *****. Exceptions occur, of course. I look into the bathroom mirror through a splatter of mouthwash and toothpaste and groom my hair, my face like I think highly of myself. I don't. I shave and I pluck, admire the edges, pretend I'm of feminine energy, pretend according to the faces and voices that matter. We have to look out for ourselves somehow, but in whole what the world can see of us makes them think we're outsiders trying to climb into an exclusive box. I want to find myself beautiful, and I know you must be happy with yourself, but there's no pleasure in false positives. Where is the touch of appreciation? To struggle visually means that windows are better caked. Not cis, nor have I ever been. In the end, I'm content enough choking in the wasteland.
...
JM Romig Feb 2017
She's sitting in a nearby booth
telling her friends a story.
She says

"It was mid-day.
Like, noon.
Like, the sun was, like,
directly above us"

I was on my way out,
so I did not catch the rest
but I secretly imagine it sounded like this:

"We were, like. almost exactly half way through,
like this twenty-four-hour period.
It was the opposite of, like, midnight -
like, the opposite of crickets, gazing at stars
and contemplating the utter insignificance of,
like, all life on this planet."

"It was all, like, birds chirping, and like,
one single star in a blue sky,
so close and so bright that gazing at it would, like,
blind you or something."

"It was like this pure moment,
like, a rush of endorphins, or adrenaline.
like there was nothing
that mattered more
than the two of us,
there,
then,
like, around twelve P-M, to be specific"

"It was, like, you know, lunch time.
So I asked if they, like,
wanted to hang out,
grab something to eat, maybe,
or maybe, like,
you know, do something else
or whatever..."
Ruman Hafsa Dec 2016
The soft chilly crystals
Falling from the sky
Has beauty of their own
Alluring than the beauty in summer lie

Flowers aren't dead everywhere
They are just in a deep slumber
Resting till the show begins
Then will blossom from their chamber

The routes all are covered in a veil
Like a child wrapped in a quilt drowse
And when the morn arrives
He will vibrantly from his bed arouse

Rubbing their eyes & smiling at the world
The chilly cold winter will surely subside
And when the spring arrives
The bloom in a valley will reside...

© by Ruman Hafsa
2016
Andrew Maitland Dec 2016
As I focus my gaze beyond autumn's red and orange trees
I'm taken aback by the forrest's vitality
I don't even care to pinpoint the sound of rustling leaves
Because I cannot stop myself from questioning the role I contribute to this scenery.

How does this landscape even look through a set of prying eyes so soiled and unclean?
Where shall I take my place within this tainted scene?
Surely our God of nature wouldn’t paint so intrepidly?
Nevertheless, here I go again, making love to memories.
Gaius Normanyo Nov 2016
When I fall, I don't land where I used to.
The Lord's hands catch me and guide me through
Dark valleys, mountain peaks, and the in-between;
Depression, accomplishments, any emotional scene.
The embrace of Heaven's warmth is what I seek,
But while I'm here I'll show others as I speak.
Truth, wisdom, my faults, I do not hold back at all
Because I know He has me, even when I fall.
10:45 PM, 10/27/16 - 12:34 PM, 11/5/16
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