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Crystal Freda May 16
Her hand brushed the rough edges

of the tips of taupe timber wood.

Burgeoning into barren branches

billowing briskly as the stump stood.

Brunswick green buds

engraved mini mints of mixtures.

Painting pages of profound poetry

reproducing rings of pretty pictures.

Recovering from her inventive imagination,

she released her hand and rotated around.

Shamrock slips of silvery shades

glimmered on the lime lagoon and gentle ground.
That windy day
I walked through the wood
Not to enjoy the windy fall
But to touch and follow the footsteps you left behind.
For my grandpa
Poetic T Jan 30
Tome stones of wood
           honouring those
who used to gaze upon
the beauty before them,

     sitting in reflection.

A tiny plaque with
      a name respecting
he loss.

Now others
    sit in respect of the
          one sat here before.

Gazing into the surroundings,
                deep in thought,
of a world passing them by.
Mikey Kania Dec 2019
your warm heart
is the pulse of my life

the sweetest speech is when
i speak to you anna

my salvation
my destiny

the sweetest blood is
your blood anna

your warm heart
is the pulse of my life

the pulse of my life
is your warm heart

my savior
my salvation

the pulse of our lifes
are our hearts

travel with me
i will take you away

forever anna
anna forever

a: absolute love
n: neverlanddreams
n: no other woman
a: absolute love

your name is a

your reflection a


and this white page has become a bole
our lovenames are engraved in wood

and wood never sinks in water
nothing more to add, baby
Karijinbba Dec 2019
Many years have passed
and Natallie Woods's picture arrived to smc's Facebook page in 2006! and 2012
but the king of hearts
never received it;
what's more, smc that
snake in our paradise,
deleted my creative page!

His slandering law liar
room mate
(not his peaceful land!)
in her jealous rage,
never gave it to him,
even though poor Natallie Wood had been dead many years.
His jealous significant other, anchored to his bank accounts. also controls his Facebook Twitter and all other social connectors for she owns him.
He is not allowed to post even a picture of him on face book!

She must fear a dead star with a message from his past will show her up for the poisonous naga she really is underneath her smily two face mask.
smc is a nasty bone fish
out his bedroom window
it's all she is!.

Who can blame that lawliar for trapping him in her black hole-M87 singularity!?

And what can his old beauty trapped at ZagrAlpha milky way singularity do against it?

still I wish neither of them any evil
even as surely as he has exiled
me bare broke cursed
all misunderstood!
from his heaven knowing no scorn like his love for me
to hatred turned!
instead of killing me a mother of three!
I guess the King spared me from being murdered
by the power of his wealth
and scorn!

He must understand I didn't understand him to keep him in all his glory back then,
much less wish him any evil!

I never knew when it was him wearing masks on line testing my waters on e-mails,(rdd!)
sending me ****** toy photos when I asked if it was him
he denied my sense of intuition!
I didn't know why back then
but I know today exactly
when it was him.
Yes I do blame it on amnesia
that protective old mechanism was real with me.

I have recovered most of the painful memories supressed
blocking all my blessings
but I lost it all on the awakening!

So sadly so this lovely seductive outfit an image sent to him in the past from me
his old beauty;
it's worn by Natally Wood herself
arriving also to his mansion in the same old clipping from a star magazine of years past
on personal and confidential notes
sealed and with no return address
yet, again the old true love
lover of life, giver of life
didn't receive it.

So here it is at long last
a metaphorical love letter enclosing Natallie Wood's picture
in her lovely outfit
simply delivering
a vissionary message
from me, his past love
to an old time king of hearts

and no one can know it's meaning except
the two of us.
By: Karijinbba
All rights reserved

By: Karijinbba
All rights reserved.
A promise is a promise here delivered.
it's better late than never!

"What's yours is yours, or it will be written!"
isn't this tus.too what you wrote to me long time ago.?
Seanathon Nov 2019
A more simple man builds a more complex house
But as for me and myself, I find
That I will never be content with myself
With my motives and mind
I am ever at odds with the person who I couldn’t be
That is why I will always try
There's no sense in comparing yourself to that which you will never be. The lack of comparison is what should make you YOU!

From the Midnight Wood Series
Seanathon Nov 2019
The crush of shells beneath warm feet
The whirr of petals above the September streets
The cooling feeling of evenings alive
The Moon over Atlantic eye
The hint of lingering sand everywhere
The smell of wicker seats in the morning air
And the scent of steaming shrimp to eat
Mouthwatering dreams and memories
And everything bread mixed by the sea
How these fragrances linger here in my everywhere
And make me want to be we again
With you in this place, still there
Easily one of my favorite places on URF.

From the Midnight Wood Series
Seanathon Nov 2019
No paint speaks for me
My favorite words fall utterly short
And I, no song could ever be you
And yet I can see you here
Before you are known
Before you exist in this world of mine
I can see you as if you were in present time
Just as if you were already mine
Sometimes all of the venues you use, the methods of communications and expression, fall incredibly short. Which is life I guess.

From the Midnight Wood Series
Seanathon Nov 2019
When I used to think about you
It was was with the warmth and intrigue of a friendly fireplace
The distant respect of a nightlong star in the bright sky
But now it is only the cold ash and glowing cloud
Which consumes my night in the direction of you
For you are no longer in mind of mine
And I am no longer am to you
Memories do fade. Thank God. LOL.

From the Midnight Wood Series
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