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Scandal and Silence the Theme of the Night
When his Dive scorned my Innocence with him
The Endearing One was there - Red in sight,
Marking the Troll for his Disgusting Whim
Which I would agree if Extent permits
The Mirror crying my Conscience to wake
Trust, at my Pocket; Honesty, at brim
And a Cloud condensing to form this Lake
Now fill Evaporation's Time with Blood,
Squeezing the Hour we need to amend:
"****** Holy, Smug Lot! Gossip's Cot Krug!
And whatever ******* left at Tar's Bend!"
Aye. Folly Love-Haskins takes one a-craze
And left the Diver-Boy swimming at maze.
#tomdaleytv #tomdaley1994
In Waterstones
Sighing at the bestsellers
opaque at the corner of my right
eye two ladies late in life
are centre stage amid the table
paperbacks.

“Are you following me?” the taller bellows
brimmed headscarf towering over her NHS bespectacled
sister of afternoons and shopping mornings
continuing a conversation that has obviously
followed them their entire friendship
seeming the matriarch of the pair, she is circumspect
in her contrariness.

Whatever entitles her to this
Guardianship of self-importance
Her being a lighthouse rising above the mists
condensing off beaten shards of rock
is subdued by her companions’ pithy response
“no-you know I have no interest in Autobiographies.”
Khyati Pareek Nov 2018
With the summer breeze touch on my neck,
I’ll infer it’s you.
When the winds start to be sharper,
I’ll gladly open my arms to you.

When the snowy snow-***** fall on my face,
Condensing the pores of my skin,
And cooling down, my burning of a heart,
I’ll infer it’s you.

I’ll infer it’s you when a little one walks alone in the rains,
And jumps into the puddles of mud water deliberately,
Holding on to the air for her balance,
And squeaking a silent scream when she’s fearing to fall.
And laughs idiotically over her silliness,
And blushes away from me when she knows I have been watching
Intently, I won’t stop gazing at her,
But my eyes will surely bleed,
If that is possible,
To see her jump, trip and fall and walk,
Still get up and with a smile new.
I’ll infer it’s you.

When she’ll also have petty queries in calculating her sums,
I’ll infer it’s you,
When her childhood opens up and she balances her bicycle,
While pedaling she watches me too,
I’ll be sure and infer it’s you.

When her knees will be sprained
And her elbows would pain
And she would hiss in her ache
I will provide her aid
And take away her ail.
When she’d again get up to rejoice,
And tumble upon the furniture,
Then run away in fear of being caught,
I’ll infer that it’s you.

When she’ll leave behind her dolls to comb her own hair,
When she’ll fall in a struggle everyday on what to wear,
When she’ll tell me I’m not understanding her,
And when her impatience will make me scold her,
She’ll run away to a picture hanging on the wall,
And complain her heart and tears out.

But then she’d come back to me apologizing,
Knowing her wrongs and she’d then be strong.
Her teenage will pass too,
And she’ll be prettier than earlier too,
I’ll infer it’s you.

And then she finally will be set to run away,
With her Prince Charming,
Covered with the bride’s attire when she’ll look divine,
With smile on her lips and the wedding vows,
When she’ll set her foot in her carriage,
She’ll turn to again go,
And run in my arms to slide off the tears,
Of her separation,
And I’d not stop them,
They’d not be in my control,
I’ll shower on her our blessings and love,
And when she’ll smile through her glistening eyes,
And proudly add that I look funny when I cry,
I’ll infer it’s you.
My beloved,
I will know it’s you!
Because you live in her,
A part of us!
She is just like you,
No she’s a reflection of her mother
You.
the innkeeper May 31
If I share with you what was going on for me,
Hope, the thing with feathers,
springs up in my chest
I know there is no room for it
despair is my alternate companion

Both are always present and vying for attention,
they both want to be fed

I am doing the work within myself to soothe the spaces
where each companion wants to land
to take space where it doesn’t fit

I cannot let hope touch down and root
So it rockets around in my fear
causing collateral physical damage
as I try to eradicate it with logic and self cruelty

I cannot let despair sink into my soul
So it is ever present in the air around me,
condensing with thoughts that drip
from the ceiling and leave stalactites,
sharp and threatening to fall and pierce
Ryan O'Leary Sep 2018
It is a line from a prayer we learned
by rote in childhood Ireland.

I expect, our ability to recite poetry
is based on this form of mindlessness.

Hail Mary, Hail Cesar, Hail ******,
Hail to thee blithe spirit! (Shelly)

If you are doing nothing different
you are doing nothing.

It is this from of repetition that keeps
us in check, unrequested surrender.

We writers of life’s observations have
an obligation to the short form readers.

Condensing is a consideration of which
we must be cautious in calculating.

Therefore, I urgently request of you, my
captivated audience, put a capital s in title!
Lynda Ross Oct 2018
Innocence escaping
like water drops condensing
on old stained windows, youths playing,
tracing faces posed to sing
tunes of birds ascending;
gravity is shifting,
all my hopes are sinking
falling up past cirrus clouds, consenting,
leave me with no marks showing
where we've been or what we're doing;
screaming, kicking, shouting,
enduring the grief of falling
on the other side, rictus radiating,
moonlit opals edifying
still most gratifying.
Spruha Dhamange Nov 2018
Him
How can one person be the solidification of all my dreams,
Like when you open that box there is fragrance of peace,
Of the meaning of life, of the significance of each breath,
Like a little fluffy cloud that picked you up from despair and took you to wonderland,
Like a little boat with flippers that waded through troubling waters for you,
A giant mountain that gave you vertigo but stunted your ignorance,
A dangerously deep ocean that sunk you in the serenity of truth.
A magnificent, shiny stone, precious among the alchemists,
A knowing touch, a trust so profound,
Condensing all of my life in his palms,
Like delivering me to the other side,
Like I have seen the face of God,
and that was it, I said, take away my name, take away my existence,
Be it that this man has made me known what life is.

A sacred haven for my scandalous secrets,
Incessant rants and causeless regrets,
A fierce champion, an astute philosopher,
A pocket of sunshine, a partner in crime,
Reason for my light, reason for my tears,
Reason for my smiles, reason for my fears.

I saw myself in his eyes, neatly wrapped in a tear never fallen.

While they called me a hopeless romantic,
I thanked my heart because it wasn't - it was a seat of hope and desire.
True to my name.
And his heart was a seat of love and wisdom.
That was protected from the world's desires.
But how utterly beautiful now to give away to anonymity,
Because my existence cannot be defined or held together in a few letters anymore.
Amid that truthful presence.
But the most important,
The source of my purity,
The depth of my kindness,
Beacon of my wisdom,
How can one man be...
But he is.
But he is..
This is dedicated to someone so special that I fail to understand how he can be real.

— The End —