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Anecandu Jul 2018
The gilded opening is terse and with age defined,
Locking away the pathway from a golden mind,
Hairlike roots of tiny letters form a braid,
Ficus-ing along stretching prongs of Purple and Jade,

Pushing they gather and spider around its ovate curves,
occasioning sprouts from cracks lips perturbed,
grammarized rain fertilizing delicate pods of flesh,
blossoming frosty lemon blooms of T's R's come to rest,

The bunched words hanging, dangling like grapes, of frailty,
dipping on fickle branches barely holding on to reality,
threatening to fall like daggered swords,
But alas are some silently whispered Jamaican words
Kristo Frost Mar 2013
Parallel tremors follow your heavy footsteps through the moss that carpets a maze of tired oak. Solemn warnings calcify soft thoughts and point you at the coal on the horizon. Its splinterglow peeks hot squints through the arboreal tangle. Topaz streams convene and braid themselves around your spine. The stones in the riverbed grow smoother and each becomes a grain of sand. You let the sand console your roots as you curl your toes and fall asleep.
harlee kae Jun 2014
Sometimes I wear my hair in a braid.
So I know we'll have at least one thing in common.
liza Feb 2016
sitting in the dark, chewing on my cheeks. My ankle bracelets don’t come off and they're still wet from the tub
she used to braid my curls before bed

driving on the interstate with my back windows rolled down. The front ones wont budge
she would hold my phone with the maps up, “get off on the next exit”

Id come home to fiery curls every night; i still do. Except they're mine and they smell like smoke instead of coconut shampoo
things change but not a whole lot ya know
Madisen Kuhn Sep 2018
i could be that girl
whose voice is low and melodic
and coats your mouth with
acacia honey
whose eyes are the color
and depth of
whose presence is thick like
new york summers
rosy like
los angeles in early spring
if i braid flowers into my hair
if i write enough poems
if i learn to show the skin of my essence
but remain an abyss—
i will stop making art
when i become it
harlee kae Oct 2014
i loved you for the way you grinded your teeth together,
and the way you tucked your braid inside of your hoodie.
i loved you for the freckle in your eye and the burn mark on your chest,
and the way you put your hands in my pockets to keep them warm.
i loved you for the letters you wrote,
and for your compassion,
and your wonder at life.
i loved the way you read,
and the way you smiled,
and especially the way you laughed.
and i loved the way your voice sounded on the phone.

but as you can see, i say l-o-v-e-d. because i can't love you
when you loved me.
Walk with caution long-haired girl,
It's already late and the bells are about to sing,
You will not want to fall in love with the guitarist
Of boots and hat.

They say he takes the girls
Especially those with black hair,
Be careful brown skin,
Not his size, but his spells.

When the horses cry,
Run to your house and do not wait for serenade,
The braid to the horses,
While playing his guitar.

And if someone touches your sale,
Be careful! What is the Sombrerón!
Love is neither a battle nor a conquest,
It is the ultimate request
Love is neither a question nor an answer,
it is the hollow space in the mystic’s chest
Love is neither the petal of the rose nor the thorn,
it is the single drop of oil from a thousand petals pressed
Love is neither circumstance nor romance,
in its ***** tenderness it is always exquisitely dressed
Love is neither blind nor visionary,
in lovers’ eyes the North is South and East meets West

my heart gives rise to a million loves
drunk with love I am I am
drunk with love I am

come and grab this animal
until you break the chains
that tie you up
if you free your mind
and voice your love
then one day
you shall drink the sun
that lights you up

voices soft that break your heart
dreams are stuff that we’re made of
do you care for what’s no longer there
and have you forgotten how to share
these broken chords set me up
yet never mind this empty cup
for love is a freedom not a burden
its sweet to some and bitter to another
tender and **** to the taste
love's fragrance cannot be placed
neither a heavy weight nor cumbersome
without wicked grapes or holy grace

sweetly like the ocean surf
her heady waves
and belly button
curve along the
her eyes on
your chest
tenderly hold this sparkling
and drench your soul
in beauty

love is not a burden
its a gift
that enters swift
into this place
that most forsake
so find me there
but do not stare
as I braid thy hair
into the sun
into the moon
and twice as fair
thy lips do break
my aging heart
The clandestine chandelier intestines gassing
Insanity on pork chops and whiskey braising
the anodes with artificial ceremony
and detonations putting life into the backs of  
eyes attempting to thrash the night
and lash it down with burlap straps
for the starlight,
Cassiopeia, Pegasus, Aries
We braid your loosened God notes and
Hang from the bottom of childhood for the best GRAVITY,
swinging between the weeks Life SCREAMS from
this balcony over beach seamed
with moonlit cream dried
to the canvas until nothing
moves but palmetto branches warming me with salt breath panting,
Eager to be memory
With my face over her hair fallen neck
sending through my lips
what I’ve dreamed of compiled tastes

One arm wrapped her waist
The spinal curve of her back
Give-way my others embrace

In my palm falling slowly
with surrendered hold
Her reclining body takes plunge

A body wondrously dreamt by the Gods
but never to beholden
For that vessel has since long belonged
And in a quiet covet,
the Gods continue to sin

Over and across the bed
Released from my grip

Upwards into her hairline
a sweat spreading mist

Grabbing a fistful of mane
I’d lay down on the runway to attain
this flowing coat between my fingers

For the length of time
her hair has entwined me in cuffs

Pulling harder
I gladly yield in acceptance
this braid given stain
a permanent scar

Slow let go of her feathers tangled

In her neck I’m keeping
a burrow in repose

Seeing buttons undone in sync
to expose

The destination of my lips next imprint
like advanced shadowing hints

In a mechanical motion

Hair pulling emotion

Triggers upward
her chest and chin

Two spotlights on the ceiling what her ******* up send
Shaping her back an arc
like a half moons descent  

When she finishes her unbuttoning
Next for my belt she reaches
then the unzip I’ll never forget

She takes me in invest

I take her in continuous shooting

All the unfastened

Now Firm
And Shake
The peak is reached from this encounter
defined by a collection of far to many lustfully seductive
mental hive of trapped aches
Then I kiss her lips in return she kisses me back, felt...
Deb Jones Oct 2017
You would think that new pain takes precedent over old pain

But the truth is that when new pain follows old pain, the weight of the whole tends to be a lot heavier than any individual wound.

A whole lifetime of accumulated pain.

If we have no coping mechanisms we just bear the weight.

The ever heavier weight.

Because let's be realistic, life is full of pain. And there is no one to turn to that doesn't have their own pain.

We can't say "Hey, do you mind holding this for a few hours? Or for a day? I'll pay you for babysitting it."

The truth is we don't want to give up the pain, to give it up means that we give up the immeasurable love we carry for the people we are mourning.

To give it up means that we never loved them enough. And we did. We do.

We love them so much we are willing to carry the pain for the rest of our lives. That is part of their legacy to us. The love, the memories.

After a while the pain is not so heart clenchingly hurtful.

We start to remember the laughter, the happy times. The loving times.

And we take those memories out and examine them. Smile and feel the lightness in our very soul.

We put the memories back and the heavy hurt doesn't seem so dark.

One of my my favorite quotes is  by Lewis Carroll
"I try to believe in as many as six impossible things before breakfast"

That always seemed like a good attitude to me.

The way the world is these days, it’s almost incomprehensible how anyone could have a closed mind.

It seems like most every day there’s a story in the news about one of our certainties being turned on its ear.

Maybe that’s what it means to be human, forever questioning our certainties.

One of my certainties is I will someday smile and outright laugh at the memory of my mom.

She was a funny, outrageous woman that made me laugh daily.

One day she said something so shockingly funny I threw myself across her bed laughing and banged my head on her wall.

Even that made me laugh harder.

She was a treat to talk to. A great artist, pianist and writer.

When my niece Ashley died, her granddaughter, I came home and went straight to her room.

We didn't say a word. I cried with my head on her lap for more than 2 hours. While she made soothing noises and cried with me.

The night she died I looked into her eyes for hours. The fear. The panic. I talked her home through it all.

I smiled while I cried and I made sure she knew she was safe. She was going home to be with loved ones.

I asked my siblings to come around to my side of the bed so she could see them and they couldn't. They just couldn't.

So I talked her home alone while they listened and cried.

I made sure every time she focused on my face I had a smile for her.

I told her to go. I reassured her and at the end gave her massive doses of medicine so she wouldn't hurt.

And I smiled until my cheeks hurt. While I kept talking her home.

I didn't want strangers touching her so out of 7 sisters only my youngest helped me bath and dress her in her favorite clothes.

I washed her waist long hair myself and did it in the long side braid she favored. I put the light makeup she liked on her face. She looked beautiful.

She was wonderful. She was my anchor, my soulmate, my best friend. She was my mother.
I can't believe she is not upstairs in her room waiting for me right now. I will miss her everyday for the rest of my life.
This was written at the same time I wrote the poem "Dying" my 22 year old niece died just a handful of months before my mom did. Last April. I am still working my way through the grieving process. Writing about it makes me feel better. I can pour the pain into my words
Release amma/

break armor

Cortazon open/

open yours to/

if it's meant to be/

the light will shine through/

guide you/

Spirit will find you/

the way/

where love always stays/

this is not a dream/

it will comes to those who speak what they mean

open door for amor/

open my roots/

my heart is the truth/
gaining patience and a kind point of view/

My family joins me in the future/

no ruler/

Aphrodite shine brightly/

bless her heart with **** light and trust so kindly./

For she can't fight me

/ and i can't fight her/

yesterday was such a blur/

thinking about her /

day and night/

his feelings about her so bright no more fights/

Let the Druth find us /

The Druth will find us

let the lies depart us/

we wake /

we know the truth /

white by it's glows/

you tell me the root /

I tell you the clues/

We told them the truth.

Mother gaia resting in prayer

lend me your skill/

we shall meet and lay still/

Moon father/

shine off what bothers/

Release all that was bottled/

when me and her meet/

we lay full throttle/  

new light shine through

round earth mother's birth

i'm flat when I sing to you/

Inferno **** /

the fire of passion

bring us satisfaction/

**** unbridled desire/

bring it to me now/

what I require not what I admire

I complete me/ you complete you/

bind us/

bless our union/

joined by coven/

our union bound by flame/

two different paths, their goal is the same/

winds to the east/

sun by moon / distribute this thought real soon/

Goddess shine the path/

MY lover/

reading my heart like a map/

Another to one

and one to another/

We're our own true lovers/

This fate was chosen for me/

A match made in heaven by the powers of seven

with this candle/

let it shine like any man can do/

  Agriminy mixed with Rue

love bond broken/


whole heartedly/

send my letter to the holder of my heart/

deliver this art

receive my star/

be who you are

tie the knots/

meet me /

charm me

do no harm to me/

Red strings to braid/

I sing away it's disarray /

red pink roses/ Cherry incense/

I gulped the rose water in an instant/

kiss when we meet/

greet me

with all that you been missing with peace/

Light as the airy sounds of our voice/  

conversations when we meet

talking merriment /

blossoming experience/

I see you shine/

i see you often/

i see you perfect/

see her fall in love with him/

see us now/  

the opportunity

is not just a hangout/

the universe waves

merging us as two

connecting us/

our love is the universe waving back at you

it was the night of the waxing moon/

The moon shoned bright/

affection to the sun

fall for the one/

come to them/

if i lose my sight/

i will still draw a heart in the air

and say let's unite/

sorry past

but my future is bright/

come to me my lonely night/

for our love

our hearts shall be/

as we will it/

so mote it be

Come in a time of need

with no greed

My work shall heed/

From western winds

My love shall be

me the infinite sky

and her the immortal sea
Robert C Ellis Oct 2018
Nodules braid flesh on my chest
from the rest
of cometbone rupturing
God's sheath of satin fabric covering the sin coded DNA helix for ATE
with porcelain teeth
and the sunlight between,
that that shows my ruins of childhood as if i breathed.

I am stream;  As if God dreamed
Thera Lance Oct 2018
The movies lie,
Every single image that flashes through these eyes of mine
Promises that I’ll have more
Seconds to braid your hair,
Minutes to whisper sorry so that
The past no longer drags you down with cold steel
Biting deep.

There should be
More moments to hold your hand as
The hourglass’s red sand dribbles through your fingers
And pools around us,
Mirroring a world where
We could have walked side by side,
With sunlight streaming through your hair
And moonlight illuminating our bed where we rest
With hair the same silver.

There should have been a time where
I could have held your hand
With the strength of a chain,
Wrapping around our arms in golden threads
And binding our fates.

We should have been able to
Sit under the same tree,
While smaller others played around us.

The screens vowed
Long enough to say all
That could be said between us,
Yet, the only thing that I can give you
To wipe away tears that I can no longer reach,
Is a smile.
Out of ****...
Out of desire,
Carefully, lovingly  
she chose the finest,
most supple leathers.
Length and width she measured them...
to size each finished braid.
Four she made, each stitched
with tearing eyes.
Weaving them together
she bit her lip imagining...
their sting on her buttocks.
The day I wear my blue dress-
My hair up in a braid.
Those dark blue heels on my feet,
And dark veil held by bridesmaid,

The day I step under the trellis,
To the altar surrounded by men,
The priest, and groomsmen,
That day, beneath the sun, well it's...

The day I'll cry, walking down a white carpet,
Blue sweetpea, forget-me-not, cornflower, in my grasp,
I'll stand before matching eyes, and of his heart
I will only hedge to ask

That he love me, in provision, in familial, in sickness,
In health,
For immer and for the poor side of wealth,
For all our days, and the rest...

That the day I'll be wed,
Not far after the day we'll have met,
I will finally let the one who loves me true,
Be the one where the words, will finally be said.
In the way only we can say "I do"
A special "*******" to the one who will never see that dress, to the one who has, and to the one who said his goal was to get me to wear it.. but not for the wedding it's meant for.
kyla goodson Oct 2018
Its so much easier searching Google or Pinterest looking for the perfect quote to effortlessly upload to the world.

So much easier letting another speak your words you can't seem to ever find.

So much faster to copy and paste, than forge your own complex emotions onto paper; no take backs, no rough draft.

So much harder to find the words that feed your soul, that truly illustrate your passions, your desires, your wants, your needs, your love.

This poem is for all the quotes that just don't suffice, for all the poems that aren't raw enough to deliver your missive. The ones that barely scratch the surface of your iceburg:

I don't have a problem with love; I love lots of things; I love babies and puppies, thunderstorms and laughing.

I love my job, my coworkers and kids, I love their tiny hands and developing brains, I love their arguments, and their ten second future careers. 

I love ten second future careers.

I love dancing and singing, I love being surrounded by trees that reach the skies and long walks on the beach where there's nothing around for miles.  

I love being uncomfortable, I love learning, I love awkward feelings of vulnerability.

I love being scared, but the kind of scared where I know I'm safe, but I allow my self to forget.

I love allowing myself to forget.

I love cliché and cheesy, I love pick up lines, and jokes that make your stomach hurt from laughter. Don't get me started on vulgarity and cursing; they're my drug of choice.

I love risky conversations and dark secrets, almost as much as I love life stories and scars. Man do I love scars! The narratives, the memories, the reminiscing.

I love reminiscing.

I love silence and I love noise, but mainly the kind of noise that echos joy and content. The noise that feels like home. The noise that eases my nerves like gabapentin never could.

I love meaningless drives and getting lost, or at least trying to, and finding myself in unknown territory that takes my breath away.

I love things that take my breath away.

I love hearing of your love for your son and your daughter, and how because you're a dad, you can french braid.

I love asking random questions from your jar that let me know you sentence by sentence, as we lay on your bed, just us in the room.

I love when it's just us in the room.

I love the feelings I get when I read your book; knowing that your hands have flipped these very pages.

I love staring at you while you strum your guitar and you smile sheepishly as I record you for later. I love watching your hands slightly tremble with everything you touch. 

I love everything you touch.

See, I know what love is. I know how to love, I know what to love, and who. I don't need help to love, or motivation, or reason, or rhyme. 

I'm a lover.

So if I slip, if I fall flat on my face and spew love from my pores, flicker love off my tongue, don't run. Don't be burdened with the fear of breaking my poor heart, or hurting my soul.
us lovers have enough love to balance out the pain, we have enough love to share and hoard all the same. 

So when I call you my lover, or love, or heaven forbid, say I love you, know that's part of my identity, it's my mark on the world, my rendition  on Charles Bukowskis words, "if you’re going to try, go all the way. Otherwise, don’t even start."

-kyla Goodson
Semicolon Aug 2018
Let’s make a boat out of the moon,
Braid these stars into our hair,
Sail this endless galaxy till the end of time,
Breathe in every little fragment of this entirety,
Let’s get lost in this universe.
Let's get lost together.

© Semicolon
Life isn’t always about the big things
but the little ones, they are not necessarily small either.

Like the times you would braid my hair before sleep
and the next morning I wished for it to grow faster
just to doze off in time before you finished
so that I would soundly sleep with no anxiety but a blankie.

Sometimes I felt like an elder sister
I’d go and scare the birds you wanna play with
I’d lock the door and make you plead outside
I’d make you take things I pretend I can’t reach
and I refused to stop, because I saw you laughed
and I guess, that’s probably a part of me which made you happy.

You said nothing’s impossible for me
and truth is, I kinda agree
I know I’d go as far as I could
I’d conquer the stage and make people believe
like a great person, there I stood.
But when the night passed
I’d put on the clothe that says my name
I’d take off the mask which has never been me
and I would find you.
I would find you
just to tell you how did my day go
like a little girl who’s just getting to know the world
and you’d nag at my irrational decision
and we both would be tired of how dumb I can be
but I know, I’d still go to sleep happy,
knowing that somebody’s just as dumb as me.

But little did we know
that bestfriend can break our hearts too
No, I’m not blaming you.
I must have never been prepared
or I’ve been living in lies
that everything will work for me
even when I’m too busy to give a glance
I thought I’d never have to see you leave
I thought you’d never choose anything else before me
I thought what I did is enough to make you happy
when the truth is, it’s not always about what I feel
You too, want to live like me.

I miss you.
a lot.
as much as I was mad, it upsets me more that I can’t be there
to witness your happiness, like how you were there when I felt it
I still want to hear your dreams
I still want to call you ****** which only means I just want the best for you
I still wanna fight the person who makes you sad
I still want to be the gangster whom bigger figure you know you’d always have to hide behind it.

But I just can’t move.
or am I just waiting.

That one day, you’d call my name and hug me
cuz by that time, I know you still need me
I’ll know I’m not only a person asking for a sympathy
that I’m also able to give love rather than just receive
and that, you still haven’t replaced me
with a new idea of an opposite character I’ve turned out to be.

But maybe, we're just a same person
from two different worlds
We thought we could walk the journey
with all we got and any obstacles, we're ready
But nobody has ever guaranteed this
cuz it's always best to let go, and let God
and as for me
All I want is for you to be happy
Even if it means, happier without me.
So close yet so far.
Deep down inside, you still have a special spot in my heart. You're still my bestfriend. I don't know how is it going over there but as for me, I know that I'll always love you.
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