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Matt Jursin Nov 2010
They say that there's a mathematical equation that explains everything in life.

But I say that not even physics bears an explanation for...the guidelines of attraction.
Our primal reactions are multiplied by...the highlights of passion.

These laws of love that linger like a lanterns lost illumination...
Like the campfire light on a clear night, leaves coals of culmination.

Sweat beads lead to bare threads and bare bodies.
And oh my, how bare bodies lead to imaginations running wild.

Cold winds inspire warm kisses and close skin.
Sincere actions aren't sins.

Bodies wound in union, formed by light and tightly bound.
Together, these twisted vines ******* the hardest ground...
Together, harmonic souls produce passionate sounds.
Yet, still somehow, love gets lost more than love gets found.

This equation is unending...like numbers off lips that kiss the air.
Body language spoken...Our physical bonds equal eternity and pi squared.
And you know that every moment that we share is nothing short of...molecular love for the masses...
Now held captive by gravity and magnetism...

See, the last full moon marked retrograde...and if the moon affects the tide of the ocean...and our bodies are roughly 75% water...can we assume that this is the only body powerful enough to keep ours apart?

This gravity...
This pull...
It's pulling me apart...so let me pull you closer, stop pushing me away!
Hold on tight, dont let these planets drift away into a dark rift of decay.

Let your love lap upon this solid stone like a river riffles smooth sandbars into hills of higher ground.

Because baby, without your water on my beach...
I'm nothing but a desert, dry and deserted.
Love, the drug.
Elizabeth Zenk Jun 2018
You’d never understand the emotions
of such a pitiful being,
but you know what's its like to injured.
~
Shaking body
Cold acid boiling at my skin
Words branded into my horrid flesh
Putrid bile sloshing inside my stomach
Knife-like stings shooting through my fingertips
Icy cold numbness throughout my limbs
Pigment in my face turning ghostly pale
A hollow pit where my intestines should be
Rapid heartbeats, and quick breathing
Fatigue at the thought of living
Dizzy and disoriented
Lost
~
Wanting to sleep forever
Wanting to wake up from this nightmare
Eberhardt May 2016
Moths are swatted
butterflies kissed
Pollution in fog
but beauty in mist
Shades of skin
the lighter adored
Loveliest lauded
the average ignored
Wilting flowers
tossed and snubbed
Only the beautiful
are cherished and
loved
Victor D Aguayo Oct 2018
I shift across the oceans
As I explore through your emotions,
You shift in your stance
Wanting a real touch of romance.
I walk through the fire
My endless love erupts even higher,
You walk through the street
Your soft hands without mine to meet.
I slept along the trees
As I speak my heart with such ease,

You slept alone on your bed

Your wish for me has finally grown dead.
Arianna Dec 2018
Breathing deeply
Of the heat
Rising
In tidal rushes
From the velvet of
Your skin
Cascading
Over mine,
Entireties
Enveloping
Melting, us together,
Suspended in this
Pulsing plane
Of pleasure and pain,
As
The warmth of wine
Hits the blood
Wherein
La chaleur de nous-mêmes
Indistinguishable

HEART

Reunites
Inside-outside­
At once,
At one
In a carnal


SYMPOSIUM


Pomegranate cheeks
Pressed, rouge
Into wine,
Flowing
Ambrosia
Of sweat,
Honey,
And the Hunger
Of



TIME



Grapes bursting
Forth from vines
Of bordeaux kisses
Devoured,
Plucked ravenously
With tongues,
Flowing
In leaf-winged abundance
Over humming, desiring
Stomachs
Bursting with
Crimson cabernet
And the drunkenness of roses,
Blooming scarlet
And savage
Between thighs, and
Strewn back
Up the ripening
Raspberry vines
Now entwining,
All-compelling,
.
.
.
.
                                               T                                                       
                    R                                                  

A                         ­         I          
                              N                  M  ­  
N                                                
                     G.....         R
                    S                              ­                          
                     O
                                                     F                                                          ­  
               .
               .
               .
               .
Between skins,
Garlands
Of laurel caresses
Woven
‘Round necks,
Braided through shady
Willow tresses
By rose-stained
Fingertips
Hovering

D
O
W
N

To alight
Upon strawberry lips:
Inhaling
Hymns
From the depths beneath them:
Lush,
Flowing
Harmonies of


FEELING


Echoing,
As the tambourines
Chime louder
In breaths
Amidst the swaying
Of hips and

IMMOLATING

Free of form,
The dance



REVERBERATING



In the ardor
Of souls bared
Whole.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i4qePY2Wdss
Rashid Sep 2018
You bring out the Newton in me,
the sine curves that rule my pendulum-like motion,
the pi and g constants in me.

You bring out the quantum lover in me,
the particle at the two places,
the collapsing energy levels,
the n=2 in me.

You bring out the thermodynamic lover in me,
the heat transfer, the Q=mcT,
the ***-Lussac law in me.

You bring out the collision physicist in me,
thep >0, the increased momentum in me.

You bring out the fluid dynamic lover in me,
the Lubrication theory, the buoyancy forces in me.

You bring out the projectile lover in me,
the x and y component, the gravity in me,
the Euclidean vector in me.

You bring out the physical lover in me,
let’s multiply our vectors, the cross product,
let me feel your sine curve and I’ll let you touch
all the tangents in me.
Nothing hurts me more deeply,
then your
physical silence
and
indifferent
absence
so dead calm
not knowing
if you're living
or colder
in your grave

Speak to me
darling
I love you so.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
By: Karijinbba
All rights reserved
Indifference as cold
as forgetting
an absent loved one
a painful un necessary tactic of "less is more"
in the solitary life
of a precious lover
left behind. Hate me
I beg you,your rancor hurts me less then being forgotten!( Revised comment 03-22-19)
Alexander Feb 18
You burnt me without fire
Bruised me with just words
Twisted with my desire
Until I was begging to be yours.

I remember clearly,
The day I said goodbye,
The fire left burns,
The black and blue
Up and down
My arms.

I’ll never go back,
And I’ll tell others too,
Because they should be warned
Of people just like you.
I’m so sorry
Blissful Nobody Aug 2018
I lay under the sheets,
Undressed and yearning,
Famished and waiting,
For a taste of ambrosia.

Knock knock knock!
Come now and come in,
Embrace your desire,
And ravish my senses.

Don’t tease me,
I am at my peak,
Mortally enraptured,
By my physical form.

Come lay beside me,
Put your hands on me,
Take me whole,
I surrender in flesh.

Caress my *******,
Moisten my urges down,
Hold me tight,
And feel me now.

Hold me down now,
Watch me sizzle,
With fierce intensity,
Burn my passion out.

I need your body,
When mine takes over,
Come in and take it all,
Out ; when I simmer down.

Come again when I desire,
Hear my carnal call,
I want you in me,
A taste of ecstasy.

I lay here now,
Bare on the bed,
Ceased by desire,
Free me now.

Restless feet bother,
Kiss them and in between,
Soften the bridges,
So you may pass.

Forward and backward,
All leads to ecstasy,
Touch me whole,
Touch me now .
Experimenting with erotica;)
SelinaSharday Feb 2018
I gave up on the abuse in my house, I ran to a shelter.
Now my husband is looking for me, threatening to harm whose helping me.
       The place I'm in is where we live in fear most of our days.
The Womens Haven is the man your thinking of beating up.
        For taking me in rescuing me, from the **** you put me through.
You need to give up.
    Your need to rule me, control me, use me, despise me.
Give up wanting to hit me, decieve me, hold on to me.
        I ran to a safer place, because I gave up on holding on to you.
Because you are the Man.
     Gave up holding on because you are the kids Father.
Gave up on waiting for those temporary honeymoon phases.
       Where you appear kind and sweet.
    Only to turn and bring it all to defeat.
        To the building of tension until the stormy phase shows.
Bringing us the whoa's, the painful moments of sorrows.
             Where hurt and anger swells.
Awful moments I'd never tell, horrible stories people sells.
     Days weeks months and years, Has brought stress with no relief.
Living with a man who seldoms does right causes agony where can I retreat?
    It takes a toll on us physically,,, my body is tired it's ill can't you see?
Blood pressure is high stomach all achy,,, I'm filled with tension and anxiety.
            Even sleep runs away from me..... The things you do make me worry, makes me fret.
That you haven't killed me yet.    Being your woman makes me regret.
    Regret we met, regret we slept, regret I stayed, regret it all.
Recall the hidden pains that lingers and stalls.

Tired of the jealousy and the strife,, hate I was your girlfriend then wife.
Hate you blaming me for your anger too.  Saying it's all my fault all the **** you send me through.
  My fault for standing up to you.      For trying to move away from you.
        The abuse in this house I run from I give up on YOU.
Get angry all you won't to blame me but I now have the courage to say.
                            "WE ARE THROUGH".
abuse getting away and staying away
Before there was anything that mattered everything that would ever be existed , it was the essence of totality , it was without dimensional constriction or necessitated form .  Optimistically speaking time had no relative realism to it’s progression because realistically nothing had happened yet .  As it continued it became according to it’s innate inflections as a functionally integrable form .  The questionably understandable nature of it’s conjunction was an omnipotent directive beyond necessitated action or morphological construction .  The enigmatic consciousness of it’s relatively interrelated conception was spontaneous and yet it continued without elemental omniscience.  

As the relative complexity of it’s interrelations evolved dimensional consistence was born.  Humanly understandable laws of physical integration governed many facets of it’s conjunction yet the totality of it’s ramification was beyond humanly realistic conjecture .  

The organic morphology of biological ontogeny was a conceptually reflective derivative of functional physical mechanics yet it’s diversity exceeded it’s physical complexity , understanding evolved .  Relatively extraneous interpolations of adhesively practical extremity succeeded in a hierarchy of functionally integrable forms .

Retrospectively speaking pragmatic practicality is a humanly rational possibility .  Rational logic can conceive of individually totalitarian structural forms , yet the implosive nature of their rational cohesiveness becomes a practical partiality due to the diversity of their definitive impetus .

Perhaps the essence of our being is the logical counterpart for the matrix of our subjectively conclusive social fragmentation , or perhaps we are evolutionally incapable of cumulatively rational correlation.  Problematic diversity could be perfectible on an individually infinite level or contrarily perhaps ubiquitous causality is the ultimate survivor.  

In any case it is beyond our subjugatively rational cohesive coercion to intercede en masse on our own behalf as an integrated unit. Our conceptual abilities have been thwarted by the unmitigatably individual nature of our extraneous conclusiveness .
Re-post
Paul Butters Feb 5
Black hole kisses
******* me out of myself.
Kisses wrapped in hugs.
Intimate moments at intimate times.
Memories to treasure
On a cold winter night.

We once played a New Year Game
In which you kissed a girl
Then swopped her with another:
Twenty or so kisses
To compare.

One kiss so wide
I could hardly stretch
To meet it.
Ending up
Trust me,
With the big fat unresponsive one
Too drunk
To even know
She was being kissed.

Recall one time being coolly kissed
Politely:
A kiss that said
In no uncertain terms –
If you want passion
You’d better go elsewhere
My dear.

For kisses are like handshakes:
Some firm and friendly;
Others too hard
Or too limp.
The young don’t always get it:
Lettuce limp
With their customary hands.
Physical expression
A dying art
Like conversation
In this digital age
Of mobile phones
Snapchats
And Insta-Images.

Time to rekindle the past,
Go back to playing out –
And away!
Get mud ****** mucky
All gloves off.
Back to Basics,
That’s The Way.

Paul Butters

© PB 5\2\2019.
Memories!!!
Cné Mar 2017
i must give you a full physical exam
to fully grasp my prognosis and plan
of treatment for you... dont be afraid
i feel confident, no need to debate
i can satisfy
and gratify
your pre-dic-ament
in the richest succulent

as a specialist, to some degree
my healing hands work expertly
but to receive full and complete treatment
you must partake my honey rather frequent
for a better plan of action
i require a full body transfusion
a chemical mixture of center fuses
a delicate blending of our juices
this may require several procedures
over time it provides many features
healing properties of your most vital *****
however worth it, even if, it cost a fortune
to this a can guarantee success
but first you must fully undress

i work with energy transference
your help required for successful convergence
of the best possible results
between two consenting adults

bartering is certainly a viable option
for your long term medical condition
providing equal services for each other
helps maintain balance to one another
Hehehe. For my muse, I bit of fun playing doctor after a rough Monday, possibly a treat Tuesday morning for those halfway around the world.  
So many patients, so little time
Oh good gracious, it's only a rhyme
https://youtu.be/NQ7WyP_qCZk
aj Dec 2018
I experienced
and I wrote:

When I think of you I feel like I am going to cry.
Well, I don't cry
but my stomach decides to cave in and collide with some sort of fluttering that feeds into my lungs
my heartbeat turns into more of a tick

into my stomach a small rock is dropped
it rolls around at the bottom
slowly it gets hot
the heat spreads up my throat and across my chest radiating down to where my elbows meet the inside of my forearms
from there, the energy pulses to my fingertips
its like buzzing but with the addition of tiny little ******
I feel that in my wrists

The heat grows heavier on my chest
now I feel it a bit behind my eyes
my hands that pulsed now throb along with my thighs
now the rock in my stomach decides to put press up on my spine
it tickles in a way that makes me want to laugh to relieve the pressure

I laugh but laughing leaves me feeling winded
my esophagus now thinly coated with a foggy thickness
the word that comes to mind when I think of it is dread

my spine is now a magnet that my ribs want to meet
I breathe out
they sink back towards my spine, reaching for something
my breathing feels forced but at the same time I can't control it

my thighs feel warm and almost swollen
my feet are already cold
each hair on my head seems to gain a pulse
certain ones even feel electric
the stinging in my nose tries to curdle my expression
I try not to let it
but my nose wants my cupid's bow and my jaw wants the corners of my mouth

the rock shifts around again, renouncing itself
my ribs suddenly collapse causing my to inhale my own exhaled breath
the stinging in my nose rides up behind my eyes and

(this is where I usually stop it, often with speech or with another laugh
images carry away sensation
I place them back into those mental pictures of pastimes and things potential and things yet to come, replacing the label with "sadness" with "hope"

knowing now that the rock is just my heart, it finds its way back up to the tiny box where it beats on the walls, constantly trying to find its way back out

I remember that hearts do good
I remember my lips, only then do I realize that they had gone numb
I think of warmth

the stinging in my arms, the picks and the pulses in my fingertips
those are the only things I can't beat
the energy at the inside of my elbows goes back up to my chest and  hovers over my heart

the hovering feeling never goes away

but I remember this energy is mine to live with and move on)

but if I don't stop, if there is a sense of weakness to my day
I feel the urge to smile almost
the burning in my eyes gets hotter, it usually comes in bursts
my vision turns to stained glass
the rock starts punching its way up my spine
my lower eyelids want to sink back towards my face, my eyebrows try to tie themselves in a bow
I try not to blink

now
If I'm lucky, my eyes tear up
If I'm not, tears roll down

my stainless masterpiece ruined by a contorted, conflicted smile-frown

I feel air on my tears
I breathe out and remember thought

my hands want to hold
my arms want to hug
my lips are numb but they know jut as well

that the catalyst has come full circle on this one, love
With this poem (monologue?) I had no intention other than to report with words the physical side of emotion. I just wrote as if I was reporting objective, physical sensations. My hope is to make this a series, maybe reflecting in this way within contrasting moments? Or maybe have other people report their own descriptions? Who knows where it will go. But please, enjoy.
Jo Swan Oct 2018
Broken Boy, Broken Boy, Please do not cry!
Your eyes is filled with terrified tears.
Can you see your father is nearby?
His eyes burns with the fury of Ares-
Causes your spirit to whimper in fear.
Like fragile porcelain dolls been shattered,
He brutally beats your bruised body-
Leaves your spirit broken and battered

Broken Boy, Broken Boy, Please do not cry!
Oh be a sweet darling good boy and listen!
Can you hear the sound of your father’s fist crunch?
Drowning in deluge of emotional distress,
Your eyes has lost its innocent glisten.
With each punch,
Your aura of gentleness gradually dies.
Your heart cold like gargoyles in fortress

Broken Boy, Broken Boy, Please do not cry!
The Broken Boy has now become a Man.
His haughty handsome face sneers with disdain.
His soul now barren as the desert of Afghan.
His subconscious mind haunted by past pain.
Lost in the wilderness of his own wrath,
His breath is drunk with the taste of violence,
Has he grown up to be a psychopath?

Broken Boy, Broken Boy, Please do not cry!
You have become a man of vendetta!
Following the footsteps of your father-
Belt your boy till his skin turns magenta-
His affection for you begins to languish.
This abuse is a never-ending cancer.
Like you, your son shall wear a mask of anger
To camouflage his heart’s suppressed anguish.

Broken Boy giving birth to another Broken Boy
Will the curse of Broken Boy ever end?
I decided to write a poem in the perspective of the abuser. Sometimes it is difficult for people to see abusive people as a vulnerable person who uses anger to hide their pain.
Mind Banging

He rides her mentally.
Almost daily
Uncountable minutes he is up in it.
Making mental ****** touchdowns..
His foundation seemed sound.

Yet he faltered where.
Where he didn't reach her.
Another's lying lips found uncharted territory.

Claiming more void space left uncatered to.

Compliments guards like a safe untouchable fence.
He failed to simply compliment..
He couldn't see her.. Couldn't see her beauty.
Yet he could feel her.. he watered her gardens.
He listened to her soul...But fail to see what good it doth behold.
Yes he left empty what she gave freely.
Intimately.
Mentally..
Vulnerability.

He rides her physically.
Someone else can steal her mentally.
He wasn't the one to yield complimentary.

Our words simmers on the hearts and souls.
Of our special Ones.
Simmering slowly.. seasoning roasting the valued things.
Until the moments your ready to go feasting..
Marinating soaking the best of prized things.
So much like cooking.

Emotional penetrations.
Seductive weapons.
Pure wisdoms.
Till the grounds before emptiness is found.
Some just bring the physical guns..
Some bring much more than weapons.
They bring..
Mindful..Mental..Magical Momental, momentum..
givin ya sum...
momentous
and oh so majestic..and magnificent..
Mesmerizing.. marvelous.. misty musical melting masculine moods and hearts suspense.
Merry Moments making-love; mental stimulations..
complimentary manipulations.
Of Mind Bangings.
And Physical Tamings.

by sharday rose..2019
stimulating
Elk Öberg Jul 2018
Flesh is stripped away in grisly ribbons,
It wraps around their mouths— suffocating.
Twisted into the red string of fate,
It ties stone crosses
To the backs of martyrs,
And crowns their skulls with poppies.
Still, the rook will crow,
And thick blood runs in opaque veils
Down the innocent’s face.

The ribbon floats back home,
Washed up on English rocks,
Where the lover, the friend, and the family member,
Allow it to curl around their littlest finger.
Their tears join the sea.
Arianna Feb 23
I.

The rainbow erupts,
Spilling the decadence of Seasons
In colors and curves
Over crystalline cloth

Banquet hall turns to vineyard
Grapevines spiraling up the pillars

In the finest brush strokes
Of fingers teasing the air

Touching

Crushing

Sun-ripened flesh

Of rose-petal nails
Peeling through layers
Digging fossilized sediment
From beneath amber-painted faces:

Brushing the leaves from your brow,
I gaze into the Earth,
Feeling down the vines
To the roots of your tree.

Gently, peeling away the dead bark,
Biting your sunset-colored heart

Rising, filling, falling

Lapping at the nectar welling up
From your veins.



II.

Salt turns to sweetness
Where les fruits de la mer merge
With ceux de la terre:

Mango skins and dolphin fins,
Mermaid tails and lion shins
Tangle with emerald vines,

Somersaulting in the tides

Our forms brush
Between Land and Sea,

Our lines cross
'Twixt shadow-dappled waves
Where the murmuring forest°
Harbors cherry blossom glades
Behind nettle screens and nectarine trees.


My heart quickens,
Listening
As the breath swells into a roar
Reverberating from your core:

"How does the forest whisper?"

Wine runs red
From the pomegranates at my breast...


III.

Inhaling pear blossoms from your chest,
Fingers caper down your spine
Caressing sunflowers and blueberries,

Knees nestled
Among the lavender in your thighs.

Exploring the crevices of your roots,
Plucking wild grapes and olives
And avocados
From your hollows,
You ripple with Life
Flowing from below
The surface,
Feasting on your Essence
Butterflies kiss you with your sweetness:

"Do you not taste the Sunshine
coursing through you,

shivering in the warmth
of Turquoise?

I'm surprised
you never noticed
the flecks of Springtime
in your eyes...
"


IV.

Tearing figs from hips, I

C  R  U  S  H

Roses in my fists

Dripping perfume
Over your neck

My teeth become fangs

Ripping
every          
last  
            thorn


Out

Where they've pricked your skin,
Scattering ravished

P
                 E
                               T    
                   A
                           L
                              S

In the dark spaces
Between your ribs

Listening, listening...

Licking clovers and honey
Over your raspberry-scarred wrists.


V.

Seafoam champagne
Glistens in the trail of my tongue
Tracing rivers over the desert
Spilling its golden embrace
From the mystery of your smile

Wreathed in laurel, hazelnut, acorn, and ivy

Winding vines
Tighter and
Tighter

Borders vanish behind starry mists,
they slip...


Elemental perfection
Of Earth and Sea
Made gentle by moonlight:

"Enough, enough,
I am enough!
"

We drift
On the edge of two worlds;
No sound pierces
The rush of water and schism of land.

We tumble,
We drown,

Our colors bleed together...


VI.

... gushing brilliant bordeaux
Over the tattered tablecloth.

"Drink deeply, for the cup
Runneth over!
"

Starving muscles
Revive at the sensation
Of violet plums
Bursting with the sound of a kiss
Between blackberry-stained lips

Planting almonds and strawberries
On pollinating tongue-tips —

Quoth the Bee to the Hummingbird:

"Open your heart!"


Quoth She to He:

"I will unfold my wings
That you may kiss every inch of me...
"
A collaboration with Crown Shyness. :-) You can read Part I here:

https://hellopoetry.com/poem/3014184/banquet-i-sushi/

Haha, my segment trailed away into space, following no cohesive thread whatsoever, but perhaps you can imagine the words trickling down your chin like the juice of your favorite fruit.

° = ;-)
Tyler Atherton Sep 2018
My Teenage years;
Teenage years with people saying 'sit down and shut up'
Teenage years with no one caring
Teenage years with physical abuse
Teenage years with razor blades
Teenage years with no mother
Teenage years with bottles of pills
Teenage years with ****** assualt
Teenage years with suicide attempts
Teenage years with no reason to live
Teenage years spent pining for what was lost.



© Copyright Tyler Atherton
Brandi Feb 3
Some things have changed on the outside and in.
Body is no longer curve less and thin.
Hair is choppy on most of the ends.
Short enough to reach just below my chin.

Some things have changed on the outside and in.
Resilience and strength rise from within.
May sometimes be foolish, may sometimes be sin.
But I know whose I am, and that is a win.

Some things have changed (oh but not this).
Not the way the sun sweeps across the eastern sky, signaling morning has arrived.
Not the way the moon sprinkles light where lovers hide.

Some things have changed (oh but not this).
Not the joy a baby brings when taking its first breath.
Not the flash of life once lived as approaching coming death.

Some things have changed (oh but not this).
Not the call to serve your own.
Not the fight to care for lives who have forgotten their true home.

Some things have changed (oh but not this).
Not the love for what is pure and true.
Not the hope that the Divine has rescued you.

Some things have changed (oh but not this).
Not this longing for seeing the innocent kids.
Have a chance in this world to experience bliss.
To have dreams without fear and to see crystal clear.
Their reflection, so beautiful, cherished so dear.
Those unaware of the sadness they share.
Are the sad ones themselves as reality bares with it anger and loneliness hid behind stares.
Stares so blank and so void that gravity cannot bear.
They find themselves in the black hole and stay there.
Unaware, truly and wholly unaware.

Many things have not changed (oh but not this).
From my sins, from within, I am made brand new.
For that is exactly what faith can do.
Not a preacher, a speaker or a song with a muse.
Not a seeker of praise from a million or two.
Just a girl with a laptop who decided to choose to speak with words that simply cannot be confused.
They cannot be anything else but the truth.
And that does not change all the time through.
February resolutions are still resolutions. Live in the truth and love physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually.
Paul Hansford Aug 2017
.
The burden I bear is more heavy than lead.
The physical weight is a thing that I share,
but the loss that I feel will not leave my head.
Why did you have to die? Why is death so unfair?


I am close to you now. Yes, touching my hair
the flag with its lions of gold and of red
that wraps round your coffin. I know you are there.
The burden I bear is more heavy than lead.

My comrades move with me in slow, solemn tread.
Our eyes are all fixed in an unseeing stare.
Our shoulders support you in your oaken bed.
The physical weight is a thing that I share.

As I feel the world watching I try not to care.
My deepest emotions are best left unsaid.
Let others show grief like a garment they wear,
but the loss that I feel will not leave my head.

The flowers they leave like a carpet are spread,
In the books of remembrance they have written, 'Somewhere
a star is extinguished because you are dead.
Why did you have to die? Why is death so unfair? '

The tears that we weep will soon grow more rare,
the rawness of grief turn to memory instead.
But deep in our hearts you will always be there,
and I ask, will I ever be able to shed
the burden I bear?
.
The sight on the TV of a team of RAF officers carrying the coffin of Diana, Princess of Wales, to return her body from France to England, brought home to me and many others the realisation that she was actually dead.  This is written in the voice of one of those men.
I had just learned of the rondeau redoublé, with its repeated lines, and the limitation to two rhymes, and it seemed appropriate to use that strict form for such a formal but emotional public event.
Shofi Ahmed Aug 2018
The world is small
even heaven isn't big.
But an uncreated Word is,
an expression of love and promise!

The tale of the beginning
the tale of the end without the ending.
Soon God said it 'Qun' be
Bang it couldn't be bigger indeed.

Everything small and big the complete
creations panache came to be so big!
Body is small the soul came in the front.
Every soul banged explored at once.
All heard the same Word it was only one
that sets the tone for the first to the last.
So sweet it took everyone’s heart!

The death wouldn’t touch the soul
that already died but couldn’t die.
Revived there and then instantly,
hearing the 'Qun' the uncreated melody!
Crooned up even through the dead end
surged up to the other side of the black hole.
Like a waxing Moon passed crossing
over the asleep body yet in the making!

Adam was yet to be in the body.
It wasn’t in the physical element
that by no means could hear it!
Unlike the abyss soul there
the sea can take a dip.
The cloud spills and rains
but only to revert back to the sea
showering the shallow body.

Unable to resist it, the first big bang
didn’t take place in a physical body!
Not in the star, milky way or in the galaxy
nor an orb is as scientific as the human body!

He said ‘Qun’ again and the first big bang
on the matter takes place in Fathima’s joint
interlacing her live soul and pre-design body!
It cut through the irrational black hole in between
the soul and body now gel in melody!
So that the grand manifestation in bloom
shall continue to resonate perpetuating the body.
With pure love without a condition without a boundary.

Nature that was yet to be, gets a mirror in its entirety.
and bang big upon hearing ‘Qun’ be, says the Almighty.
All will be and shall perish only to be an eternal body!
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