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Kevin J Taylor Oct 2015
Let me rest among these giant souls that stand
where trees once stood.

Here, greens break into blacky-blues and dragonflies
and dusts of beetle dung grow old withal.

Let me rest among the salmonberry and the tumblewood
of cotton, ash and hemlock, fir and cedar.

And let the wind stir of pine above the fall reawaken me
in early greens and sapling dress, anon.
Not all poems survive. I've lost a few and let others go. My current collection of poems is available on Kindle. It is called "3201 e's" (that is approximately how many e's are in the manuscript which is a very unpoetic title but a reflection on the creation of poetry from common things.)
Desirae Hoover Oct 2013
They say I’m cold and hard.
That I don’t know how do love.
They say have a glass heart.

A heart people can’t hold.
A heart that only collects dusts.

But let me share a secret about glass hearts.
They are easy to break.
And if you try to clean the mess.
You’ll cut your finger.
astrid Feb 8
I lay down
your creamy expanse
unto the marble surface,
as if milk made love with
the stars in the galaxies.

I write you out
as pleasant simmer
of pulverized charcoal
and bloated glycerine.

I splatter and spread
fine dusts of Carica
in temperate motion
to touch the sleek edges
of the vanilla branches
on your person.

I hold and dip
my feathery digit
amongst rose water
to grasp the flowers
that frames your face,
like light morganites
that hail from the west.

I cast you off
as the blue sea engulfs
the life from the waters
where life swims with
stable beginnings
and whirlwinds of stories.

I finish you
by letting molten pearls
lither your dark onyx orbs,
surrounded by your lakes of gelatinous almond,
like shooting comets
finding rest on land,
as lightning's faint and close
but never quite touch.

I made you
with intrinsic detail and rawness
to give you the life
that you may never have.
may these words show its own form of art.

090219; 07:29 --- revison due to incompleteness from original file
Eve Aug 9
A child of the Sun
      Her golden miracle
            The touch of Midas
                  like melted caramel.
She flows through your veins
      and seeps through your skin
            A breath of warm honey
                  I thaw once again.
She caresses your face
      leaving stains of rose
            With benevolent kisses
                  she dusts your nose.
Hair touched crisp
      by her scarlet aura
            Burnt orange hues
                  Warm curls of lava.
Through gentle strokes
      you paint my days
            with transcendent smiles
                  like soft morning rays.
Oh your sparkling eyes
      glazed in undying fire
            You are my sunrise
                  It’s you I desire.
Bryce Feb 28
Have you seen the soft light of her eye?
The speckled dusts that line
the record sheaths
Spinning in the groovy beat of eternity

Somewhere high above the skies
veiled in wisps, her water-bearing cirrus
and looming presence of Cumulonimbus
running the deluge of thoughts into the brain
and giving the gift of loving rains

There she is, the lovely moon--
A pockmarked pearl in distant gloom
A momentary gift, spinning her disk
in shafts of light on fallow eyes

I have been long lost, in varied dream
The boundless world around careens
Empty towards the end of move
But I'll spend the rest of this with you

The moon, Earth's aeons of planetary dance
in loving poise of circumstance
Her writhing storm of life between
the ever-floating nodes of light
ponder Jul 2018
What is it like?
To have a permanent place?
To have things stay where they are?
Making them collecting dusts sitting still.

From one to the other,
To the other then to the other.
I feel so lonely. So empty.
It feels like I need something, to get by.
But I don't know what.

- ponder
I had this one for quite a while, but never got around to put it up.
Tatiana Sep 2018
He had wandered far in his truth quest.
A man by law, with 19 years he can attest
and ended up stuck in the west.
With limited cash in his name,
as he had abjured his family's fame.
Since his beliefs differed in his chest.

The family ideals were deceptively lenient.
Kindness was taught but he had never seen it.
His views were seen as unnaturally scenic.
A family that preached their branded acceptance,
made the man sing their praises and dance
with their rhythmic rants.

Maybe he is just a rebel;
A phase where instead he sings treble,
because the bass is in a bubble.
His head shakes and dusts rains,
falling just like earthly remains.
The ideas caused by yesterday's pains.

Heartful man, take care in the west
Listen as lives differ with the rest.
Make a pledge and mind the dread
Keep a level head.

Keep a level head.
© Tatiana
No 'O' was surprisingly more difficult to write than No 'E'. The amount of times I wanted to use the words "to," "of," "for," "you," etc. and then realized that I couldn't, was more of a challenge than I thought it would be.
Also I couldn't write "vow" so "pledge" it is.
The amount of times I've looked in a thesaurus is unreal.
Yenson Dec 2018
The Rent-a-Mob loonies, the gangsters and the Racists
damaged scums of society and contemporary politics
Ignorant arrogant sociopaths who want it all for nothing
Indulgent wasters in nation awashed with opportunities
In idle union they scream, feed us poor and **** the Rich

Strangers come Poland, Bulgaria, India and all over
to work in farms, hospitals, hotels and Constructions
Building futures and faring in endeavours with sweat
Crimson gangs and Renta Mobs states we serve nobody
**** the wealth makers, **** the parasites and let's drink

Our shyster gangs of Revo-comrades and malcontents
See killing fields, whereas strangers toil and find rich pickings
Our Revos Distract, confuse, sow seeds of dissent, make strife
Blame all others, lie and decieve, fling indulgent political turds
Rent brainwashed Mobs,into ***** bridgard to do their ***** work

We all know life is unfair and even roses have imperfections
Some are born to riches in spades and some born to beggars in dusts
Those with time, sit and ask God why, just a fact of life to accept
But from dust has risen billionaires, whilst riches have made duds
Insane Crimson sits in spurious guise and odious fallacy playing God

Yeh, **** the Rich and feed the poor, why hide and use Rent a mob
Why not air your case in broad daylight and stand your conviction
The coward you are knows it hold no sanity for those with sense
Except for thieves, the workshy and wasters who cheat to survive
In your city of merits aplenty, Revo-crimson is beneath contempt
Rahim Sterling - Nothing annoys the Racists more than a successful Blackman or a black male with potential. The sick of the Society will all rise up in arms to Destroy them. They can only abide the subjugated and oppressed black male, the ones they can use in Rent-a-Mob...
Consider a bee
while the sunbeams dance on a bench in front of a melting clock
Consider a bee
while the cradling mankind sees a gun under the pillow and feels safe.
The dust of the soul,
the soul dusts away
The bee
Interrupts a series of copulations
and a run across the industrial lawn

The sacrifice
of a fat lobster named eternal consciousness
garlic sliced bread & a fear of a thing
as per the given prescription?
am I right?

I have no more time for such nonsense,
Consider a bee
5 more minutes, a 90-degree angle, you are dead.

- Samar Charulingah Godfrey
alskawlfe Jul 2018
And tell me how do I sleep.

Knowing you are someone else’s and not mine

Knowing that I will forever be yours

Knowing that this house that I build

This house with dusts sitting on the other set of china

The one i build after tearing down the walls in this rib cage

House full of echoes. Spitting regrets on the lawn

empty rooms of memories.

This house that you didn't come home to

Tell me how to shut these eyes when I didn't  see you when I should

That my heart was too blind to feel yours

My hesitance caused ache in this chest

The what ifs rings agony,  breed chaos on this sanity

Tell me how can I dream

even there you didn't choose me

Even in my dreams you walked past me

Even in my dreams you didn't love me back.

That I was too late .

Tell me oh please tell me

How do I stay awake knowing I am never yours and you're never mine.
Yenson Aug 2018
What can the spawns of Ahriman say, that hasn't been said before
What can  Angra Mainyu linage do that hasn't been done
Children of Jahi the ***** fathered by The Opposer himself
When the Ghost of ghosts spawned his offsprings in Hades
Did he not promise them the world and declared it his
Did he not remove the dusts of damnation from them
And send them down to continue his dominion of fire

Once the second exalted but twisted from his arrogance
He faced down the Omnipotent Light and sought to usurp
From thence on banished in eternal shame he remains
The Ghost of Ghosts spawning his demons and ghouls
The pretenders without light or hues washed in satyr's milk
Disciples of extraction of the purity of the sinless inoncents

Henceforth they seek ******* over the joys of Creation
Killers that **** with all deeds and actions the Glories of Light
Ghosts who opened Pandora before Pandora came alive
Who plundered and ravaged as their master solely intended
To destroy all the Magnificence of the Omnipotent Creator
Who stands unequalled Pure and Mighty in His Golden Realm

Ghost of ghosts fights on earth with his spawns multiplying
Master of wickedness doling out false knowledge to ghosts
Covering them with false beauty and riches in ****** minds
Take your poisoned rewards and destroy to live like kings
For I make you children of destruction and ghosts without souls
Soon you will all come and burn forever in undying molten fire
i know you are just, arm-reach
but every time i try touching you
all i could feel are shadows
an emptied feeling;
from the memories of our past
the love we wished to no end would last
the promises we made to words,
like smokes- gone so fast

i tried speaking out to you
but all i could hear are echoes;
of the scars you left
in my heart, i couldn't lift
of the voices that haunts
from my soul through my head

i tried...

i tried everything
from the sounds of our laughters
so genuine we cried out tears of joy
from the comfort of our touches
so tender we slept out of chaos
from letters we wrote
so innocent and full of effort we exchanged trusts-

we exchanged trusts
but you were careless enough
that you broke it into pieces
i couldn't help
but crawl and shout for help
even though i knew no one could hear
for the voices i made
were only whispers against the wind

so i burned myself
and into ashes i turned
and dusts
and called out for the rain
to wash away my remains
but even the rain wouldn't listen
so i called out for the wind
to carry me somewhere
my heart, my soul, my mind could rest
but even the wind is dead enough
to grant my undying wish

take me! take me!
i shouted with voices so dull
i couldn't feel myself shouting
for love
for help
for care

until a hurricane came
and took this undying pain-
with a smile
i bid goodbye to the world where vanity reign.
randomly writing down my thoughts.
Diane K Pak Nov 2018
Be still and be at peace, My Love..
Stayed Speechless, Stayed being Tenacious, and Stay the Consistency of truly who you are and above..

As, I walked into this room you’ve given it pixie dusts as if you were leaving with a gentle touch..

When your  gone and we needed to know better looking back and say she’d carries along with her scars and fought enough to get where she belongs and now we genuinely know that she isn’t as far.
speechless girl
Yenson Aug 19
When the storm of Hades blow
and the roads are dug up by gargoyles
and the tempest shouts like the banshees
the wise traveler finds shelter in vapor of light
far from the acidic dusts of disintegrating ghouls
condemned to pollute the pious and unaffected sages
angels fear not fools paths but knows wisdom errs always
they will spew to irritate but who hears the wounded cry of wraiths
JaxSpade Feb 28
The fall of an angel
The fall of a man
We could never be Jesus
Or understand

The heart in a human
In the angels hand
The evil genius
Revenge for the plan

The fall of paradise
Pain in sad
The air you breathe
Is Gods breath

As his seed grows
In the rised breast
The fruit trees
In the soils flesh

His Son shines
In the East and West
While the North and South
Poles spin

The fall of midnight
And the dark within
Lives the fall of creation
In Homosaphiens

I'm just a bad seed
And you look like me
Growing the dirt
From the dusts feet

The fall of my face
In the eyes teeth
Short of the glory
My God sees

You look like me
In the mirrors beam
Like the moon
Reflecting the suns dream

The fall of the day
The fall of the night
Always lands on the fate
Of a mans life
prayers leave your feet
with every step in front of you,

a setting sun made kaleidoscope
by harvest dusts in your heart.

each flower in your lap
smiles up at us,

each day passes
folding into the one before.

it is raining outside
in the colour of life,

to make the world
fresh again.

it is blowing
in the colours of
shhhhh & hushhh,

to soothe
the world to sleep.

prayers leave your feet
and turn your endless path to joy.
inspired by "The Scenic Route"
chickens still wait for corn
by the door of my granny's kitchen,
where sun once rose with a daughter
in skin of gold, and set with a son,
with silvery dreams

little girls still dance in twilight,
clad in the nakedness of innocence,
their chests bare, where ******* ought to be,
their scarves wild, flowing in the wind
and their voices climb palm trees,
in a bid to beat the boys to their dreams.

little boys form a group of toughlings
flooring the other in smart fast moves,
wrestling for fun, and raising dead dusts,
dusts of their forebears, who warred,
and set boundaries they'd grow up to meet:
and then forget unwritten bro codes,
forge new laws and grow cold,
act brave and grow old...
watch dreams fade into the dark

and the song of wasted years
punctuated with short sighs
shall form a new language
that tumble down our throats, tasting strange,
yet worth the dirge after all

adieu is the song, and
the circle goes on,


— The End —