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  Sep 2015 Tia Jane
Jack Aylward
I removed myself from the darkness
Of the dead
But soon became a demon
On the run from the Gods.

©Jack Aylward
Tia Jane Sep 2015
Not a word was said ~
Above the hum of fingertips ~
His hands danced a duet ~
With her skin ~
Love made without voices ~
No hush nor whisper ~
The only noise ~ the sound of mutual desires ~
Intensely passionate love ~
They need not speak ~
Touch ~ Taste ~ Kiss ~ Skin
The only music they needed ~
And he ~
She ~
The only ones who need to hear ~
Not my best write. Rushed and thinking about a recent experience when words were not needed. Mainly the point behind this story is that if you can hear each other, it doesn't matter if the rest of the world can't.

Copyright Tia Jane Fajardo
  Sep 2015 Tia Jane
david mungoshi
In their time
In their clime
They did
what they could
And it stood
What do we do
In our time
And in our clime?
Will what we do stand?
O fellow poets, have a heart
Be not like Aeschylus
the poet on Greek shores
so distracted and abstracted
he could not see
the lamagayer's missile
aimed at his shining dome
Your poetic heart should be home
singing sweet phrases to scarred clouds
and healing the wounds
from uncaring man's foolhardy actions
Write poetry to make the ocean's heart
heat up and sweat
Make the clouds ravenous
Till they weep upon the earth
and the world becomes a sea of green
This poem is based on my worries abour climate change that we could as a world acting in unison avert but hardly any of the super powers are privy to protocols such as  the Kyoto Protocol and so on. Right now in Southern Africa where I live, the whole region is faced with either a debilitating drought or a devastating el nino. These things are no longer speculation.They are for real. It is historical fact that the droughts that led to the loss of millions of people in Ethiopia in the 1970s were man-made.They were the results of severe damage to the ozone layer and that came with its attendant difficulties: not enough heat from the sun reaching our oceans and, therefore, the oceans did not heat up sufficientl for any real evaporation to take place. Result- no rains fell and no crops were grown. Result - famine and crocodile tears!

I am, through these notes and through my now enhanced poem, appealing to all HP poets who feel so inclined to join me and write poems on climate change and related themes. We could in the end publish and even organize symposiums and readings around the world on WORLD POETRY DAY 2016 and beyond till we make a difference.  How about that poets?
  Sep 2015 Tia Jane
ryan
There's something about dark mornings,
That make kissing so exquisite,
and how my hands reach for your curves,
Like you are air,
and my lungs are starved of it,
I can't wait to touch you,
Breathe life into your neck,
and watch your legs part,
Because you can't resist,
How much I love you
How much I need you,
Because you can't resist,
Being **Mine
  Sep 2015 Tia Jane
ryan
I want to take her pain away,
First with my heart,
and then my hands,
lips,
and tongue
  Sep 2015 Tia Jane
raine cooper
maybe yours would be hands that stay
or your eyes, stars that won't burn out
maybe your waves would keep reaching,
instead of relentlessly leaving the shore
but i have said goodbye to parts of myself
and i know they'll never come back
the parts that love
the pieces that trust
they lay here shattered and broken
and i can't let anything close
because i am made entirely of ruins
and i destroy all that i touch
©rainecooper
  Sep 2015 Tia Jane
ryan
I know a woman who emits light when she speaks,
Few hear her words.
She chooses them carefully and with grace,
They are a blessing to my ears,
and a comfort to my soul,
I sometimes wonder if moonlight bleeds from her fingers,
Maybe one day,
They'll illuminate my skin,
For now I'll keep her safe among the stars,
and like the dark,
Swallow the light when she speaks
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