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 Mar 2016 Ugo Victor
Devin Ortiz
I wear my cloak of crows
With a sly eye to the door
Hanging on the thought
Of leaving because
I've never really stayed

The black feathers flock to the window
Beady eyes survey my inaction
As the pitter patter of raindrops
Hum along the glass

I'm comforted for a moment
By my new ****** of friends
Gazing into my past
And the uncertain future

The rapid beat of my heart
Regains my attention
To the clutch on the armrest
My eyes have since shifted
Back to the door...

Like I'm there once again
Such a persistent memory
The one where it is too late
When regrets manifest
Into demons we carry
Through the mud, these burdens
Never letting you forget that instant

So I sit in this chair
In this room focused
On the door ready to run

At the end of the day
All the convincing in the world
Cannot change true nature
Not when it counts
Not when it matters
~~
Away A Spring comes
Through the windows of the old
Where yet I see the past times of gold
Though I could mention
Still takes some times to
Get out of detention
Of all those values of drowning dreams
Though everything passing with trims

Either Come back again
As any other forms
In the horizon of the Wren Drongo, Myna
In the Sparkling bright days
As if red flamboyant of lost Spring
That only Says a beautiful String

But yet the dried leaves are floating
In the water of Calm Lake
Where yet I'm passing a fake
Within the game of light and shadow
While Love wearing a mystic mask
That confesses me too many tasks
Bright and dark moving with cradle

Forbidden to go near
That I Couldn't bear
Flood tide in the river
Full moon broken with eight pieces
In the silver light her silhouette stands on the shore
Behind I see the closed door
In the known Seasons of moon
Century's sigh as if an elusive tune

If slowly lost all
Put those dreams here again
Even I couldn't leave any pain
But the rainy season can be washed
Saltwater of eyes
I try to feel the bliss
Away, will return the golden
Days of Summer  
Off course there will be
Something on the bottom
Love will come on the
Cloud's raft of Autumn
Away, A Spring being a call of beckoning
~~
...
....I remind you the dream,A Spring.........
..
 Mar 2016 Ugo Victor
cassidy
I've never been in love
but I imagine it's kind of like
skiing on a glassy lake
in the fresh July sunlight.

Or the bellyache you get
from laughing for hours
uninhibited
head thrown back, eyes watering.

Or the thud of the ball
on the worn hardwood floor,
the soft swish of the net
when a shot meets its target.

Love is like a lot of things,
and darling, you're a symphony
of sounds and smells and tastes and feelings
I could never tire of.

So maybe I'm wrong.
Maybe I have been in love
with you, and this world, and everything in it

Because love is like everything
and nothing at once.
It's defined by its undefinability.

c.l.c
I watched her smile bounce off,
The reflection on that last teardrop.
Her lips twisted in a reticent scoff,
The grains in the hourglass, begging to stop.
She  looked deeply into my eyes,
Willing every last ounce of truth inside.
While her sensitive heart tried,
Not to take me on a traumatic ride.
I see the glance at the screen,
And her melancholic sigh at the tune.
Trying hard to forget what they mean,
Seeking solace in the rays of the moon.
She remembers the touch of your hand,
When I softly take hers in mine.
How you held each and every strand,
For that she unintentionally pines.
She doesn't want it to be true,
But it always comes back to you.
We took walks by the lake,
Tossing stones into the blue abyss.
The memories I tried to make,
She always seemed to miss.
I looked deeply into her eyes,
While she returned it with an almost apologetic sigh.
The remnants of much stronger ties,
A bond not reflected in mine.
She doesn't want it to be true,
But she's getting closer to realising.
It's something which she knew,
Its effect on me, no less paralysing.
The touch of her hand was tender,
And she smiles softly at me.
Knowing I could not mend her
Heart, something I should've seen.
I look at myself in the mirror,
With her standing by my side.
I wondered what the image was for her,
And was answered when she barely tried.
She can't fight it any longer,
No matter how much she wishes it wasn't true.
No, neither of our hearts were that bit stronger,
As always, it came back to you.
As always, she came back to you.
 Mar 2016 Ugo Victor
NuBlaccSoul
Till you can’t walk
Till you are sore,
Yet still smiling
from the thrilling experience,
Till you are sweating pleasure
from every pore.
Till your breath murmurs
my first name with every inhale
Till my voice is the only sound
your ears need to hear.

i would
rest my head on your breast
and listen
Enjoy the sweet tunes composed by
every noted word you harmonize

Tales of your life stories before they became entwined with mine
Narratives about your dreams
About who breaks your glassy heart
And what tickles your eye-ducts
into opening a flood of tears.

an inner world of wishes
she deserves beautiful things,
The Nubian Queen,
Sunflower Child.

~ New-Black-SoUl #NBS
inspired and dedicated to my muse - a banquet of beauty, a model of black excellence and a colourful character and a bubbly spirit. God bless her soul.
                           |
(c) 2016. Phila Dyasi. All Rights Reserved. Intellectual property of author.
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