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Diane K Oct 2018
A father shapes and molds his daughter.
A husband ought polish his wife.
But, only when a woman realizes her worth and value
will she shine beautifully.
Francie Lynch Jul 2017
I knew her when
She learned her letters;
She liked me too.

We shared a tent;
Followed the sparks fading in the full moon's face.
Draped water over our skins at midnight.

She bickered with her mother,
Whom she mothered today.

She once had a mole
Only we two knew.

I knew her then.
That's the fact of it.

She rebelled,
Then surpassed naysayers and detractors.
I knew her, then.
Got to know her at her best-
A sharer, and keeper,
One who wasn't one to rest.

I knew her without discretion;
Like when she partied at Mardi Gras,
Wearing string-beads, blowing saxes,
Something she never spoke of.

Then, this cannot be her.
I knew her, and,
I didn't know.
Terry Collett Jan 2016
Bella wife of Albus
looks over the wall
at Annona's villa

the sea below
waves crashing
against the rocks below

gulls in flight

sky a blue
light and cloudless

Amy Annona's slave girl
stands back a bit
but close to Annona

Albus leaves soon
for some campaign of Caesar's
Bella says
is Marcus to leave too?

Annona looks at Amy
taking in her loveliness
how she stands there
near the wall
not far from her

yes he told me last night
Annona says
feeling a sense of happiness
rise in her like a small stream
let loose suddenly
after being blocked

I shall miss him
Bella says
I always do when he's away
being in my bed alone at nights
trying to keep things in order
the household
the slaves
the affairs of duty and visits
how do you cope
while Marcus is away?

Annona puts on
her sad face and says
it is hard and I am often
at a loss and sleepless nights
(she looks at Amy)
and the villa to maintain
and look forward to his
quick return
(she dreads his return
like a foul illness)

I do too
Bella says
when Albus is home
I am like a young girl again
running to him at his feet
and he lifts me up
and well between you and me
he and I make love so much
that first few days
I can barely stand
and she laughs

Annona laughs too
and Amy looks
at the sea below
and senses Annona's eyes on her
and wants her master Marcus
soon gone so she
and her mistress
can go to bed again
and make love in their own way
and feel each others'
bodies close and kiss
and lay there in each other's arms
knowing Marcus knows
she shares her mistress's bed
while he's away
to prevent rumours
of any disloyalty
on Annona's part

Bella still laughs
and Annona stares at Amy
standing by the wall
looking down at
the sea and waves
gulls over head
sky blue
thinking a message to Amy
I want you
love you.
I am rich from all the things I have lost
Vanishing into a mist of missed opportunities
The knowledge lies inside, quiet like a lake
When he leaves for battle my skin aches and breaks
We take on our true form when they're gone
Layers of flesh fall to the ground
Underneath this tiny heart a dragon rises from the ground
I open yellow eyes and wake
Tough skin and deadly claws
You smiled at me and disappeared
For many years I will guard alone
The tiny home we call our own
Shed my skin and try on a new soul
Thousands of years old and rusted to the bone
My soul springs awake, gets ready for battle
But nothing lasts forever, nothing is ever given
Words are written, said and stolen
They want it back
They always want it back
Greediness is the wound of Man
The result is spilled blood
And fallen tears
Wars are fought over countries
Murders are committed by passion
Cold blooded, show no compassion
Red is the colour of our everyday lives
And in necessary cases we spread our wings wide
Our homes we protect, our treasures we hide
We bare our teeth and hiss a cry
To scare them away we aim and fire
Open our eyes and watch over our treasure
In the midst of war we still smile and murmur
Make promises of brighter days
We will hand our skin in the living room
And pretend we never left the room
We will smile and welcome them home
Under the rug the trap will squeak quitely
A hidden mistress underneath our home
Treasures lie quiet and concealed
*Late at night
In it I can see all the treasures you didn't take away from me
Äŧül May 2014
La belle femme Indienne aime un soldat,
Le soldat est mort dans une guerre féroce guerre,
La femme Indienne a été laissé seul et veuves,
Elle porte maintenant un chiffon blanc.

A White Cloth

The beautiful Indian woman loves a soldier,
The soldier is dead in a fierce gun battle,
The Indian woman is now lonely and widowed,
So she wears a white cloth nowadays.
A French-English poem for Indian soldiers and their loving wives.
Widows of Indian martyrs wear white or dull coloured clothes traditionally.

My HP Poem #632
©Atul Kaushal
Martin Narrod May 2014
So I scuttled up, until I found a voice like Japan, I read him his rights, turned out the lights, and laid right back on the sand. They said, "Sir, he was much of a father to me, but we were labeled his kin, right in our family tree." "Oh wow", I said, with a gentle, smooth voice, he went missing last August, but now he wants back you boys?" "Oh yes, he sure is a feral man. We think that's why he dried up and flew to Japan." Right then, the two of them went silent just like two second story men, so I inquired, "What happened then?" "From Monday thru Sunday he took to prayer from the bible, and on every other weeknight he watched Japan's Top Model. He threw gallant parties to a harem of wives, he read each of their palms, and looked in their eyes; some time later, when everyone was about to leave, he'd turn on Happy End and start a wild ****." By this time I was tired, the sun began to set, I grew tired of my beach patch and yearned for my bed. Although soporific, I tried to be polite, I said, "Let's finish this conversation some other time." "Of course!", they said, "We're off to bed. We'll see that you'll do the same." Then they stood up quick, and reached down and picked up my chains. The beach we laid on was black top, asphalt and tar, the bed I craved was behind a row of private bars. The two of them, them both, were children of mine, because my memory is shot, this might've been their millionth time. i got locked up in a county that's dry as a beach, like Elizabethtown, Kentucky, where I was raised till 13. No one, not even the warden, knows really why I'm here, even some man from Cell Block Five, asked me last Sunday, why was I here. My beach perhaps, it's love at last, concrete, gravel, and stone- a 6' x 10' room with bars and a porcelain throne. It's mine I cry, each night I die, with glee, with smile, with rite. But it makes the other guys run at me, and try to start random fights. I don't remember the boat I took, but I remember the tour, going to Japan at Epcot Center since I'd never gone before.

— The End —