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 Jul 2018 Jackie Mead
Pagan Paul
.
As his words flow like honey onto the page
with a nod of approval from a linguistic sage.
Long gone are the days when a woman's plays
would look at the poet with a romantic gaze.

His sad verse no longer makes her cry,
his love poems fail to lift her heart to fly.
Her attention wanders like a lonely voice
away from sanctuary, towards more choice.

And as his pen drifts across a blank page
he remembers the ladies, being centre stage,
the looks of adoration in a beautiful face,
deep pools of experience for his art to embrace.

Melancholic he dips his pen again and tries,
imagination musing her gorgeous ****** eyes.
But the words won't flow, so defeated he cries,
and arranges poets tears into convenient lies.


© Pagan Paul (2017/18)
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 Jul 2018 Jackie Mead
Mike Hauser
Be the wheel
that's set to turn
The comfort in
the daily hurt
The flame that lights
not the one that burns
Be the lesson
that is learned

Be the hope
and not despair
The helping hands
that show you care
The pleasure ride
that takes you there
Be the truth
inside the dare

Be the answer
to the call
The very reason
for it all
The solid yes
to all the no's
Be the river
that freely flows

Be the kindness
that we need
The encouragement  
that sets us free
The do good
to the deed
Be all this
and all of these
I've got eyes
That makes me human
But I can't see very well through them
So I'm blind
The blurry kind
These eyes of mine
Are awfully ruined
Like an owl
My sight is fowl
In the morning when the sun rays burn right through them
The darkest shades
Would no less save
These white jelly ***** attached to my eye stems
But worst of all
Without discrediting any other travesty
Is that  these big eyes
Be they regular sized
Can't seem to see that you are bad for me
Though family-like folks
With impeccable eye yolks
Could see for days
Your shiny scales
Me as thick
And blind as a brick
Couldn't see a flick of your evil ways
To me you're kind
From the outer to inner sides
And with these eyes
I can no less find
A wrinkle in your peachy colored float and flutter cocoa butter mind
Although your cheats
And cheating like things
Are clear and clean
And as close as my cheeks
I conclude
Be it bitter and shrewd
That none is as blind as she who will not see...
 Jul 2018 Jackie Mead
Traveler
Part of me's
Been broken
Most of me
Still runs

I would give you
Heart and soul
To be your only one

No, you need not be lonely
On this desert road alone
Ask me what's for dinner
And I will take you home
....
Traveler Tim
The road was all mud
she slipped with the drizzle
and you couldn't tell
the color she wore
but her big awed eyes
colored the land in all colors
making her lose breath
gazing at every little thing
till over the noise of lightning
boomed her father's voice
be fast girl before the rain is harder
when she would run for his hand
and slip again and again
counting fun at every fall
her eyes a glowing island
from the mud scarred face.

Once in the market
the man gave her a good wash
little knowing she was drenched
with all the dreams
eyes could ever see.
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