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Tanay Sengupta Sep 2018
As the moon shines
And the stars decorate the sky,
A lonely owl hymns
While the bats fly.
Lightning bugs scatter around
Like will-o'-the-wisps at night,
Without any sound
Oh, what a delight!
The neighbour's hound is on guard
She will not allow anyone to pass,
No one is allowed in her yard
At this hour, only a fool will walk on her grass.
Her howl pierces the air
Bringing an end to the silence,
She announces she won't share
She will not tolerate any form of violence.
Across the street, few floors above
Two players are taking their turns,
In the famous game of push and shove
While a tiny candle burns.

Tanay Sengupta, Copyright © 2018.
All Rights Reserved
As usual, I will not explain this poem. I think it is evident by now that I won't explain any of my poems to you. I want you to perceive it the way you want to. Happy reading!
Dead Rose One Jun 2015
Lush is the quietude
of the late Saturday afternoon,
rich are the silencing sounds,
as variegated as the shades of greens
of a man-seeded, nature-patchworked lawn

rays reveal some bright,
some yellowed spots,
all a potent color palette

resting worry wearied eyes,
untroubled by the gentle fading light's illumination,
that soon will disappear and seal officially,
another week gone by

the lawn,
acting as an ceiling acoustic tile,
absorbing and reflecting
the varied din of disharmonious
natural sounds orchestrated,
an ever present reminder
     that true quiet
is not the absence of noise

I hear
the chill in the air,
insects debating vociferously
their Saturday evening plans,
the waves broom-swishing beach debris,
pretending to be young parents
putting away the children's toys for the eve

the birds speak in Babel multitudes of tongues,
chirps, whistles, clicks and clacks,
then going strangely silent as if all were
praying collectively the afternoon sabbath service,
with an intensity of the silent devotion

this moment, i cannot
well enough communicate,
this trump of light absolutes,
and animal maybes,
that are visually and aurally
presented  in a living surround sound screen,
Dolby, of course,
all a plot of
ease and gentility,
in toto,
sweet serenity

here to cease,
no more tinkering,
leave well enough,
plenty well enough
for Sally and Rebecca, who love the lushness best....

JUNE 2015
Desirae Hoover Oct 2013
It’s too late
There’s no place to run
There’s no street to cross
There’s no solution

It’s too late

Too much damage has already been done.
Too much heart already has a big enough hole.
  Too much soul already has a big enough crack.
No way of fixing it.

It’s too late

You can’t change the past.
You can’t heal blood deep scars.
You can’t make fairy dust out of dirt.

I’m too far gone
It’s too late for me
Day Nov 2017
give me more. baby
oh, i need your touch
fall in love, maybe
i've given you so much

say you'll never leave
stay right by my side
don't make me say please
begging just ain't right

you know what i'll do
to attain your eyes
want every part of you
between my thighs

so gentle and soft
you bring me alive
i'll pay any cost
so you won't deprive

baby, will you just
give me what I want
Sally A Bayan Jun 2018
* * *
* *

Faces of friends, of people i met earlier
are  glittering stars on this late evening's
dark blue sky...their smiles are tattooed
in my mind...they're  hunched, going
lower by the days...slowed down by years.
it must be hard and painful...the arching,
the drooping of the neck, the curving spine,
they endure all, 'til each day's end...they rise
each new what they still can do,
lest they stagnate in their aging ponds,
diminish to a state, where food, pills, or
forgotten information are forced on them, drugs, injected into the veins

these wee hours bring back the years...
they  have been good...never mind the
hard times...there were, there are good ones
life is a long, wide stream of changing hues,
flowing on and water bears the
colors each new day brings...gray, at times
with sadness and gloom....other days,
blacked by despair...some summers, red,
roseate with glee, or green with life and, when trust is spilling, and
the tranquil sea and sky overwhelm,
with a promise of stability..........white,
when accepting......the unacceptable...
the amber grains and i, are alike
ripened enough to be plucked
be pulled out from an existence...the
signs are known...shown...yet, we wait
for when it is due to happen...and while
waiting, the stalks sway, play and dance  
and enjoy the sun and wind...and i,
while i still can...walk, jump, climb hills
and valleys in this mammoth space
of land and water.............called life
the sounds of my days, i still hear,
i am a lute, a harp, a cello...playing
off-key.....out of tune at times,
my strings are my graying hair,
i still can't stop dying the gray
i still want to highlight the dark,
but, one day, all these will cease...
one night, my face will be in one of those
many stars...glittering on a dark blue sky
sending a smile, to my loved ones...
there is no other way, but forward
all are headed....towards an end...


© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
      June 26, 2018
...ahhh, the make us reflect longer on life...
Coffee , cake and tea
Where are all the Jonquills
March has come late
Without a yellow promise
Without a breath of warm air

The sea is shallow
Without shells
Just goes on and on
Not even up to my knees

And she talks of heresy
Conjectures , probabilities
On and on and
On and on

Fools make mistakes
Wise men err
To one man  the sun sets
Another rises to the occasion
kyss Jul 2018
I walk down the street
late at night
a sense of paranoia
mixes with fright

I hear footsteps behind me
voices whisper in my head

I look back
all that's there
is a stray cat

it runs into the distance
I'm anxious to get home
each passing minute
feels endless
I wish I was safe at home

I pass a beggar
throw some change into a cup
but he gets up
and starts following me
block after block

I'm starting to get scared
as I walk down a dark street
three right turns
and he's still there
behind me

I hurry, and pick up my feet
but he simply walks faster
matching my beat

he starts talking
asking me questions
where I'm going
if I'm single
if I'm interested in a bargain

I ignore him
keep walking
he's still there, right behind me

I finally reach home
turn onto my cul de sac
check the locks three times over
make sure they're intact

go upstairs
shaking with what could've been
pondering why
this always seems to happen
to me
J Rodriguez Feb 2017
Care to much it hurts ,can't seem to notice it's killing you inside but you try to ignore It, wake up in the middle of the night can't stop wondering if she ever felt so awful,to do nothing but to explode.
Victoria May 2017
Time is so relative
It's always here and there

Running late to work and school
Yet barely anywhere

Is it to late to say I love you?
And is it to late to say I care?

You are my past, my present and my future
Like time, you are everywhere

In my hopes, my dreams, and in between

My love for you is infinite

But like jobs, and dogs and having to clean
Off track I often get

Is it to late to say I'm sorry ?
For becoming so easily distracted

Seemingly unappreciative
And often over reactive

Is it to late to say I'm sorry?
For wanting time to catch up

When all I have in front of me
Is all I ever Want
L B Oct 2016
"There in the midst of it so alive and alone
Words support like bone..."  Peter Gabriel's  "Mercy Street"

Orion abandons the sky
dropping his club
casting his belt toward the horizon
Just once, for a moment, he glanced away
from exalted ****
his vanquished prey

He’d seen the picture—
A girl of sixteen
lying awake—muses in her head
eyes shut, arms thrown back
behind pillow
Tee shirt stretch across lean chest
Hips mingle with blankets
She is scattered there
among the minions of her hair
behind her mouth of unkissed words

McCaffery's Coffee is open late
He’s seen the picture
Muses in his head
His arm almost around her
Hers on his shoulder
Small—feather-light fingers
lift the hair of his neck
Reaching around her
his hand searches and slides
along her silk-draped hind
...and the view he has is amazing!

Music— and waves pounding and lapping
at the life he fears....

Little boat stranded in gray mists
till a thousand tiny birds alight
in a peppering and fluttering
stir of time
in greens of brine
as the sun pries through….

McCaffery’s is ready to close
but the owner, knowing
douses the overheads and turns away
leaving candlelight to crouch and duck
and blink in circles

How long and free we
are allowed to gaze....
so full of wind and riffling water
Stars above and stars below
blooming on the floral silk of night
Vespered lilacs exhale
Votives of warmth
beneath his hand
Silk sweating—
familial in their rocking

Distant lightning loosens eternity
You might listen to this music with it:
"Swear they moved that sign...looking for mercy"
"I am with the Father.  I'm out on the boat, riding the waves--riding the waves--of the sea"
دema Aug 12
my heart’s so fragile;
i’m afraid to give it away,

all that’s left of me is
a sarcastic personality,
and even that is
starting to fade.
harlee kae Jul 2014
because the words spew out like *****
and I am one sick child.
They flow out of my mouth as
ceaselessly as the tears
drip off my nose.
And they splash around your feet,
but you don't even stop to clean up your shoes.
Piyush Gahlot Dec 2018
We have come too far she said,
too late to get back together,
But is it?

Been 9 months 9 days since we broke-up,
Stupid of me to let you go,
But my love for you has never been low,
Same feelings ,same me
but it's not the same you,
We have come too far she said.
Have we really?

You got a new bf ,
I am still alone ,
Not because I have no options,
But they don't make me feel the way that you do.

I accept my mistake yes i do .
Deep inside I am still waiting for you,
We have divine connection yes it's true,
My heart still groan ,
When I miss your skin and bone.
It's too late she said .
But is it?

YES it is,
I have tried enough,
I have cried enough,
It's time to let you go.
accepting you ain't coming back.
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