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 Jul 2021 Raven Feels
Maddy
Hearing one's self talk gets old
Even if what you say matters and counts
Thinking of something to say when one is talking doesn't bear fruit
Lately, listening and turning everything and everyone else off is refreshing, soothing, and calming
Tune in and tune out the noise
You can agree to disagree but have the courtesy of listening the person out
Interrupting is rude and unnecessary
Hearing them out goes in one ear and out the other
The quiet helps in a very mixed up world where what counts and matters and matters just like yesterday and today
Listening carefully for tomorrow.

C@rainbowchaser2021
 Jul 2021 Raven Feels
Zoe Mae
Aphrodite broke my mirror
then she stole my lipstick
So if you happen to see her
tell her to just keep it
I got a secret room in the ceiling
where she sleeps sometimes
when the shelter is reeling
I don't mind it once in awhile
But I don't want a goddess around all the time
Yeah, Aphrodite broke my mirror
Tell her I'm sorry if you see her
My mirror could not withstand her beauty. Have fun.
He spoke.
He cried.
Yes, men do shed tears from their eyes.
It doesn't make them weak.
Even when others come with be a "big man" speech.

His mom.
His dad.
His child or spouse has died.
Yes, men do shed tears from their eyes.

Like women, we feel pain inside.

A child is born.
Yes, he cries.
A miraculous happening occurs.
Yes, he cries.
Yes, men of men shed tears from their eyes.

But don't get it wrong.
We are still very strong.
A man is not weak because of a few tears.
Oh, if only you would incline your auricle to me my dear
and walk slowly towards the wisps of my caress, your skin
cool and fresh as rain, would feel the touch of my breath
I would whisper little nothings in your shell and tell you secrets
comb your hair, kiss your face, like only a mother's love could  
I'd lift the collar off your neck and blow kisses on your nape
I'd guide you into the warm rush of air that fills your void  
I'd lay on your chest while you breathe and repeat your creed
if only you would draw your helix ear to me and listen softly
I would be your song, your poem or maybe, a tinkling chime
I'd be your constant companion and listen to you, all for free
If I were the wind on your back, I'd push you gently forward
give you so many gusts of joy you would never turn your back
If I were the wind on your face I'd make you blush with pleasure
oh, if only you would incline your ear to me, my dear,
what a proud wind I would be...
 Jul 2021 Raven Feels
Strangerous
At once he feels the magnetic tug upon
His bones muscles nerves & fingertips.

Aflame she glows, her ice blue eyes ablaze
Amid the fire of her hair & lips.

Proximity mere bends space-time & light --
Captivated, into orbit he slips.
© 2001 by Jack Morris
 Jul 2021 Raven Feels
Traveler
Resilient
The poets heart
Words we use
Turning pain to art

Chronic stress
A syndrome no less
Our muses behold
The Mother's breast

Fight or flight
Sympathetic states
We resolve upon
Our creative slates

Breaking through
Rising above
Poetry becomes our strongest drug

When the fever flares
Word are but aspirin
And the poem becomes our cure
An observation I made while
living here,

on HP!
 Jul 2021 Raven Feels
Brett
A rusty cage conceals me
Deep beneath the waves, of another passing day
The blood inside my veins
Is laced with warmth, that erodes away the pain
The needle scratches vinyl
As the pills provide the music, singing sorrow in my brain

Lost on the lamb
Searching for the touch, from my own callused hands
A wind-up ballerina in her box
Doesn’t spin and twirl like she wants
Damaged dancer
Standing still, inside my antique heart
They have come to ***** the Rooster.
 Jul 2021 Raven Feels
Miriam
Cause sometimes in life
You gain it all when get one chance
Then lose it all on a fake romance
Go through all of the pain
Only to learn all loves the same
Sometimes we waste our life chasing after a fake romance or someone we don’t deserve and lose sight on what we really want so remember you deserve better you deserve to build a life for yourself not for others
I slept on the bed
of a poet, Gibran
and there fell a poem
into my head
like a song…

“One day you will ask me
which is more important?
My life or yours?
I will say mine
and you will walk away
not knowing
that you are my life.”

I slept on the bed
of a poet, Gibran
and my dreams were filled
in my heart was a song
a longing so sweet
a desire too strong
till the museum guard came
and moved me along
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=IE574Lqn6FM

Note: Kahlil Gibran pronounced Jibron in Arabic
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