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Majestic is

this love I scribe

open like the skies

beautiful if you stare

sensitive to the eyes

burning moths to flames

embracing every touch

weary of the pain

desiring the lust


Majestic is

love under pressure

don't call it ordinary

be careful its combustible

rare, yet extraordinary

not quite the miraculous


~Butterfly εїз
My fingers have learned
how it feels
to get burned.
When your every
“I’m Sorry”, left a scar,
deep and unearned.

The words on your lips
whispered the truth
while you slept.
Leaving me no longer wondering
why you smiled
as I wept.

My heart finds itself smiling
into the numbness
of your vacancy.
Your memory’s grown silent
and is now dead
to me.
**Copyright @2014 - Neva Flores Smith - Changefulstorm**
Sing your praises on high
to long since deafened ears.

Build monuments to your sins
of all the bloodshed and tears.

From cultures wiped out
on your righteous crusades.

Just like the Druids
your religions will fade.

There are no gods to save you,
no one to hear your pleas.

So unclasp your hands,
get off your knees.

People need saving
yet we sit idly by.

Whispering to the clouds,
waiting to die.
You'll never see how mislead you were until you retrace your steps to see how you got there.
 Jul 2014 TinaMarie
Sjr1000
Desire
 Jul 2014 TinaMarie
Sjr1000
He was far too disorganised
driving too fast
here and there
with no particular place to go.

She was a neon light
flashing
in the black Mojave night
a celestial mansion
alive
with such sweet smells.

He now had a purpose
a story to tell of
a
thousand fantasies
hotter
than the hinges
on the gates of hell
sparklers of desire
flaming through neurons on fire.

He was lite up
like
neon
in the dark Mojave night
all he could see
was
delights
in
every window burning bright.

Her fingers beckoned him
her eyes pleaded
her breath said
yes yes yes
her
body
danced and swayed
perfect harmony with all he craved.

He moved closer
moment by moment
movement by movement
to
take her to places promised.

He reached to take her hand
there was one
exquisite flash
disintegrated
shred into ash
on the pointed arrow
of
her forever flames

Just like that.
The line "hotter than the hinges on the gates of hell" is from Todd Snider's Play a Train Song.
Thanks Todd.
One of mine and The Masked SleepyZ's favorite lines, had to get it in there.
Last night wasn’t like any other night
I was like a tower of strength
I took hold of the rein
mastered a very difficult task

I sigh
as I watch you snore
I took a sip of red wine
felt satisfy while the lion sleep  
however,
the pleasure was all mine


http://poetsintheattic.com/viewtopic.php?f=6&t;=223
Language is what successful poets are good with, whenever, we want to speak vividly, or imaginatively, we have a special way of doing it
 Jul 2014 TinaMarie
r
Dead drop
 Jul 2014 TinaMarie
r
Underneath the painted rock
you'll find a key
I ain't much for hiding
but that's just me
There's a book of pomes (yeah, pomes)
beneath my pillow
You might find one or two
to your liking
But that's a'right if you don't
I wrote 'em
for you, any ol' way
Come September
if I don't remember
where I hid my key
That book of pomes'll be
still beneath my pillow
If you care
to take a read.

r ~ 7/12/14
\¥/\
  |.    
/ \
 Jul 2014 TinaMarie
betterdays
haven
 Jul 2014 TinaMarie
betterdays
i stand on the grass,
and above me tonight.
the sky an upturned bowl,
no.. a collander,
with stars streaming
bright...through the blue
metal sky...
and thus the moon is, dinner plate big
and  cottage cheese lumpy.

and i hear the sea sighing
and fretting away...

but not too hard.
there is, enchantment
in the air.. .
and i wait a few moments
more,
in the crisp, winter
night's air... for magic
to happen....
before walking inside,
to a child asleep,
a husband reading
and a little blue, grey cat
washing the day away,
in front of the fire...
and i thank the night,
for the magic...
it has sent,
as i turn off,
the porchlight.
and enter into
my haven.
 Jul 2014 TinaMarie
Dakota
If everyone else was a drizzle,
you're a downpour.
If they were locked,
you were the open door.
As easy as a breeze,
blown by the sea,
are the feelings between you and me.
They, a small tune,
You a symphony.
A warm song that can keep me company.

As these summer months fade and are plundered,
By the lengths of fleeting time while I sit and wonder.
I hope we stay as we are,
With everyone else the sky and us the stars.
I dont always say what I am thinking the right way in person. So here's what I could've said if  I would've only organized my thoughts when I spoke. haha
 Jul 2014 TinaMarie
Nisna M
You told me to start loving myself so i stole some roses from the cemetery and gave them to the skeletons in my closet but when i came home at 3AM after the storm all i found were broken bones and thorns.
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