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cait-cait Aug 2018
imagine —
you are the last of your species,

an angel, who dances on

film that protects
this earth ,
your wings are broken ,
and these are the pieces of you that cannot go
home .

so on
tiptoes, this cracked marble
does not shatter,
everyone gets to watch you perform ,
unknowing of the cold truth that you are shackled
to ,

a ballerina in a box
that hums a sweet tune —

you still dance ,
even as the last of your species,
even though
you are all that you have left.

even though
you have decided that love is a form of
i didn’t know what to title this but my comedy lit class was assigned plato’s the allegory of the cave and i loved it.... this is somewhat a different style (or concept) for me but i hope you still enjoy. this was another poem where I wrote the ending lines before the beginning ha ha. Meaning Is up for interpretation
Aspirations ,prayers,wishes and more,
When it is right ,it's definitely right!
The universe conspires to create miracles and one such miracle is you !

The smell of a familiar me ,connected with cords ,cut but uncut long after they are only to hold you in my arms now connected through heartbeats and love growing strong.

The tiny , soft fingers bound around tightly ,
The twinkle seen through half closed eyes.
Tender skin as soft as snow , whats
there to ask for more ?
A bundle of joy and happiness came fore !
So they say when the time is right , it of course is !

In my hearts core I knew long before,
God choose to give me the best .
Thee! extraordinary from the rest .
A tessellation of wishes came to surface in a matter of time and test .

Your addition to my life brought in a sense of peace ,pride and profoundness.
Rearing to take on the world gearing to accept responsibility.
Surviving every obstacle , a Lioness closely guards and protects her cub , to see him grow into thee "King of the Jungle "

This one was written for my son on one of his birthday !!
karin naude Jun 2013
found you hiding in the bathroom stall
devastated tears just running
i pity you, will never show it
your insanity to much to stomach
grovelling for grown boys attention
they broke their toys as children
now they brake fleshy hearts served with drama directed by cowardly ego
you eagerly walked the line
very well knowing fairytales do not exist
fairytales do not exist
the prince more dangerous than the dragon
the dragon protects against the world
in return you turn on the scaly animal who love you so
who love you so, it pledged forever by your side
protecting, loving and caring for you
but you wanted smooth skin wrapped in wit and charm
Matthias Aug 2013
You are the ocean breeze
Gives breath to tired lungs
So soft and sweet you swirl the sea
Place troubled minds to ease
And protects from the scorching sun

You are the crystal sand
Between toes and there remain
If today I travel, trek, or trod
You hold fast no matter where I land
Fine and light like grounded grain

You are the water’s wave
So beautiful to watch thee
By God’s hand greatly, gently guided
Mesmerized I become a slave
Each thunderous crash I guarantee
You pull me further out to sea
You are the ocean breeze
- From Life Is But A Reflection
Andrew Rueter Sep 2017
All comforts we create
Can't compare to the womb
All our fears of fate
Drive us toward the tomb
They cut the umbilical cord
They way I cut my phone cord
Leaving me alone and torn
Wishing I could curl up in a curl
And experience comfort from the world
Where people pay with change
Because they have no money
And people pay with rain
Because they have no honey

I've seen the chaos of fire
And the serenity of water
And the steam that rises when they're combined
The wet ashes of love mix into a thick cement
And become the heart's hardened womb
The heart's hellish hatred blooms
From within the darkness
Bringing us hardships

When my brain is in my eyes
It brings discomfort in disguise
Like the discomfort when I lie
And say I don't give a **** about what others think
Mentally I have become fetal
Yet I'm trying to sound regal
The illusion of indifference
Protects me from conversation
Like the womb or the tomb
And the broom is the tool
That sweeps dirt up under the rug
When my heartstrings begin to tug
The womb is the only place clean and snug

In a world where people become mindless weapons
The womb becomes a pistol
Blasting bullets into the Earth
We save our solidarity
For the moments when massive amounts of people die
And the bar seems to keep rising
And we forget the importance of one
Until we are hit personally
And look down to see blood from multiple wounds
The result of gunshots fired by multiple wombs
Ashleigh Black Aug 2014
The roads, they sway
and curve like
the veins that
run up my arms
fueling the life
inside me
like the roads that
live forever
through the night
until daybreak
until they crumble
and decay
like the skin that
protects my
long lasting veins
but they'll always
leave behind
the memory of
how both lived
the fiercest lives.
Annatman Dec 2018
Lingering salt from the risen sand
Reminisces of a sea-side land
I have abandoned in search of peace
Arriving inland - no sea, no release
From the concrete-desert landscape
Bricks and bridges, and no escape
For the dirt from pores into water
Only mortar and glass, but the latter
Like the sea, shines and reflects
Made of sand, this mirage protects
The memory of this desert land
Where light, reflected, on the skin lands
Like airplanes arriving from distant lands
Where pigment - the only reminder that stands
Free from our far-fleeing, wandering hands
Memories, immigration, Israel, Crimea
karin naude Feb 2014
most things in life come and go
following the seasons of growth and change
but few whims remain and endure the harshest of hardships
they become the theme of dreams
hidden in the glow of the moon
visible to the stars and creator only
but my themes are distorted over-romantic  images of love and freedom
illusions to feed a bitter raw soul
for short lived comfort in endless depravity
**what good is a glowing yet dark moon that eagerly hides and embraces childish dreams that have not matured into reality
that only comfort but never prepares or protects
Robert Ronnow Aug 2015
You can feel it spinning
the Chinese, Japanese, American and European junk
orbiting at several thousand miles per hour could
                                                           ­                             punch
a hole in your armor, future. Thanksgiving passes, then Christmas.
A nuclear detonation, we absorb that fact. The scientist in us
delays sadness by recording observations. What is is,
sorrow's for tomorrow.

By reducing probabilities to near zero I hope to avoid sorrow.
In yr suburb.
In history when there were many fewer people we still found reason
to cross space, explore, trade and war. Now
                                                             ­                 overpopulation
may not be the problem but food and water shortages
get our attention.
                              I have Korf's fears.
And hear what I want to hear.

Some hear singing, some hear speeches or complaining.
Martin Luther King sang his complaints, dreamed of a brotherly nation
which came to pass, spinning fast, past Thanksgivings, past jailings
into reconnaissance, small wars, drones, renaissance, inventions.
At the border,
                         where the Juaristas fought Maximilian:
Benito Juarez (1806-1872) Zapotec Amerindian who served five terms as president of Mexico. He was the first Mexican leader who did not have a military background and also the first full-blooded indigenous person to lead a country in the western hemisphere in over 300 years. For resisting French occupation, overthrowing the Empire, and restoring the Republic, Juarez is regarded as Mexicoxs greatest and most beloved leader. 

Each soldier chooses what war at what border, or just
                                                            ­                                   shows up
spinning with the planet.
The neighborhood and surrounding nature is orderly.
But always there is implied force, violence holding it together,
                                                       ­                                                       chaos
is contained
kept out of the playground, government buildings, childrenxs games
but lies within
the force maintaining order, a spinning tumor, a gyroscope of
                                                              ­                                                inertia.
The force of the spinning, the speed of the force bring one to one's
seasons, weather, earth.
                                         While the emperor's being beheaded
enduring seeds are discovered and invented, cross-fertilized and bred.
Corn, yams, potatoes, sunflowers, rice.
                                                           ­       Food is life and a good study,
useful discipline
                           daily meditation.
                                                     ­   The fighting man protects the farmer
and the farmer feeds the fighting man.
They elect the governor
                                        who serves the people. Peace out.

Peace and war are transitory manifestations of spinning
electrons, planets.
                               The sun's a nuclear detonation, essential
to spring and planting. Food is life. Seeds endure
if man goes to his daily discipline. If woman is man.
Birth and death
                           together are orderly, the border can be known,
voluntarily. How we live together, by prayer or force,
is our story.

from laboratory to starry corridor keeps us very
                                                            ­                         versed.
Did Juaristas consider the rights of animals not to be eaten?
Not during that spinning.
                                              And perform the history that surrounds us.
All that can be done
is written in the spinning:
"The people of the land, the Indian farmers of North America - like their counterparts in Mesoamerica, the Andean region, and the Amazon - have continuously cultivated maize, beans, squash and other crops for more than five thousand years. One of the salient features of their traditional farming systems is the high degree of biodiversity. These traditional farming systems have emerged over centuries of cultural and biological evolution, and they represent the accumulated experience of indigenous farmers interacting with the environment without access to external inputs, capital or scientific knowledge. In Latin America alone, more than 2.5 million hectares under traditional agriculture in the form of raised fields, polycultures, agroforestry systems and the like document indigenous farmers' successful adaptations to difficult environments."
--Wikipedia,  "Benito Juarez"
-- Altieri , Miguel A., Foreword to Enduring Seeds: Native American Agriculture and Wild Plant Conservation, by Gary Paul Nabhan, The University of Arizona Press, 1989
Andrew Rueter Jul 2017
Your friendship feeds the fire
Because you're my entire
You're my whole completion
But I have a worry secretion
You'll use a companion deletion

When we're having fun
You and I are one
I feel extremely close to you
For you teach me the value of two
But you begin to lose me
At the introduction of three
Jealousy piles on more
Once you reach four
And so on and so on
Until I'm all gone

The fire we've built together is too great
I fear the day
You are burnt by the friendly fire
The pain brings you to your senses
And you notice the extent of my wildfire
Having no semblance of control
It must be extinguished
Because by this point
It's all I can see
Part of my family tree
A fire that burns so bright
It protects me from night
But the fire was so red
It travelled to my head
You see how that went
With me pitching a tent
To hide in solitude
From the steam that rises
When fires must be put out
Happy to hit 50. Appreciate all the support and feedback. I try to keep communication to a minimum to see how the poetry stands on it's own. Thank you to those that have read any of my poems. If you're one of the few that have read all of them, you may understand me more than most of the people in my life.
RaeAnn Mar 9
I stood there in the doorway,
The last line of defense.
The second it’s hinges release
Temptation overcomes me.

6 steps to the bathroom,
Where a hundred pills await.
I haven’t heard their call in years
Now they’re calling me by name.

4 steps to the office
Sweet relief each place I see.
Plastic protection pulled away...
But who protects the blades from me?

9 steps to my bedroom
Where dust covered glass rests.
Its bitter fluid floods my mind
And fills the hole inside my chest.

12 steps is what they say
And the nagging ache will wane,
But 12 steps in which direction?
Because they all will numb the pain.
Sergio Esteban Oct 2018
I looked at the moon
And got lost between her eyes
I conform to her moves
Like the ocean and its tides
I hear her whispers
As she reflects the bright of the sun
Telling me
To lose all the doubt

You may be young
But you don’t have a lot of time
Take the initiative
To go out and live life

She spends her time lighting my way
Making sure I’ll make it to the day
She protects me
As she were the love of my life
And I thank her for lighting my nights

I’ve gone through valleys
Wondering if it’s my place in life
Little that I know
That I was there to lift the status quo
You were there too
Waiting for your paramour
But alas I’m here for you
In the same manner
That you are my moon
You’ll light my path
And I’ll light yours
Together we’ll see something more
Sebastian Macias Apr 2018
A word alone can not describe
The awful pain one carries
Once the flower in their life
Has damaged it's pedals
I see us as a garden
The tornado that protects us
Is also the one who destroys us
There is no level high enough
Of the remorse I feel
A sadness so pure
I am almost grateful for such
An authentic emotion in a lost world
You are a greatness in this world
Whom should be showered
From the heavens with praise and love
May the waters of the ocean
Cleanse the dark caves we've walked
May the bright blue sky
Kiss you in the night
I am here with you, all day and forever
With love,
spaghetti Apr 2016
I know a guy,
he is a friend.
Whom the cops often have to,
He used to do
some crazy ****.
But now he doesn't do most of it.
I know you are thinking,
who is this man.
He is a friend who drives a van.
Although not to pick up kids with treats,
he uses his ride to satisfy his needs.
Which includes dolphin collecting,
live or dead,
he's always selecting.
Vaping real hard
every single day,
is how he spends,
his hard worked pay.
His job is selling,
illegal pelts
of rare albino beavers.
He sets up traps
and waits in the bushes
with an over sized cleaver.
Stalking and waiting for the perfect catch,
he watches the ****** closely.
And right as it comes into reach,
he slits the baby's throat boldly. (baby ****** not a real baby.)
My friend makes his way to the flee market,
where he sells the pelts.
He greets his customers happily,
as the beavers hang from his belt.
Blood on his hands and pride in his eyes,
he knows he's got a great prize.
The money rolls in,
and he know it is true,
that night he will party
until his lungs are blue,
(due to the fat rips he'll be vaping)
On the weekends when he's not working,
he hops into his van,
and drives to the border,
to make sure no illegals are lurking.
Loving his country with deep passion,
my friend protects us,
with the guns he has stashed in. (his van.)
After his duty is fulfilled,
he spends the rest of his time,
all alone,
drinking gallons
of acetone.
Then in the big city
he streaks for hours,
with bags of broken glass,
that he likes to devour.
I totally agree,
my friend is insane,
and on his family,
his acts cause great pain.
he treats his slaves
with a lot of respect,
and he gives porridge to the
needy and other rejects.
He's better than me,
because I like to suffocate,
small injured birds.
And barge into restaurants,
to steal cheese curds.
But my friend is the best,
friend he can be,
as I described in this poem,
that you can see.
Unless you are blind or stupid,
or don't have anyone to read you this,
just know that my friend,
has your children in his shed,
and they'll sadly be missed.
blind are the marks we make
the forms we take
as our souls are baked
liked bread
from the dead we rise
like fireflies
crimes are the lies
they once told you
as once upon a time
fire tied us to our minds
so now we must combine
sweat instead of cement
and make our beds in nests
instead of houses
blessed we are
that threats of harm
have never come to pass
and in hundreds
of pairs of arms
we have found the company
which protects us
so burn this ancient form of misery
like parchment in the dawn
though storms may temporarily
threaten our soveriegnty
i’ll keep you warm
until whatever comes after eternity
you ply me
with honey-soaked harmony
and still i'm happy to spy on you
Dedicated to Derrick;
A Great Man, Brother, Son, and Friend
(9/29/1993 - 8/28/2018)

Fly, dear friend,
For you have earned the wings on your back,
Every ounce of the love you had, was the love you gave,

Fly, dear friend,
So beautiful, as you dance gracefully with the clouds,
For your shadow protects me from the fire of the sun,

Fly, dear friend,
Can you see? All of these people came for you,
The warm touch from your heart has sheltered us in this cold world,

Fly, dear friend,
I love you — I miss you; I’m happy you’re free,
Your voice and your laughter, I shan’t ever forget,

Fly, dear friend,
For you have earned those large wings,
Still, sometimes I wish that you never left me.

- Brendon S. Sawyer
I love you, Derrick. And I miss you every day. I’ll see you soon.
Poet kiri Apr 2018
I am
I never wrote to

I fell
in love with
and Married her
now I seek to
Divorce her...
yet every time she
reminds me of my vows


As My promise
still stands
to take care of her
for you
and give my
greater contribution

or face my
judgement to a feather
that did more than I.
Truly it will be a shame
my neck would never
recover to face your

Every time she
keeps me amused
at her beauty.
she gets to my mind
and has taught me of her

Destiny, Dream, Desire,
Despair, Delirium, Destruction
and Death.

All with the purpose to
take my attention away from her.

I think
she cheats
and that I am
not the only one.
I feel like she has had lovers
to each she is unique despite
the disappointments and those
that appreciated her.

She always reminds me

Even though I am the one who cheats
on her with a MORTAL BEING.

she shows me love
and protects me
like a mother.
and when I give her excuses,
**** and empty promises
her wrath is the TRUTH.

She believes in COMMUNICATION,
She knowns TRUST,
She provides LOVE that is authentic,
She gives SUPPORT to my imagination.

When I believe the
night sky is a deep shade of blue,
that my hands are made to
do more than create,
and I can do more than breath
and follow the sheep,
she is always there to walk with me.

she has taught me
the secret to my life, happiness
and love, is through me being
The Greatest Version of myself
each moment.

when I die
my will is to return
to her womb
the soil for which
I came from.

To be born to you
and love her again

To the Grand UNIVERSE, I Love your Daughter LIFE.
she is and will always be my commitment.

Hello, I hope you are all well.
I would like to thank you for the continuous support from the community, I am really great full for all the comments and likes.

Please feel free to comment and CRITIC THE POEM.

keep an eye out soon for more and new coming soon. :)

This poem belongs to the collection Seasoned Thoughts.

Thank you.
NB: LIFE is not a person, I am just talking of LIFE  in General.
Prabhu Iyer Sep 2018
O Lord of the hosts!

Shine in radiance, his eyes -
in whose heart is your name;
Who fathoms your ends?
The earth, sky and stars
pay homage to him
and fear fears him,
whom your shadow protects:

O Lord of the hosts!

Wealth finds him in whatever he does
who earns the blessing of your love,
and a shoreless boat is he who
has not found you whose
benevolent eyes keep watch over all
shattering the storms of sins,
whose glory never ebbs;
Becomes a master of destiny,
even forgetting the world, who has
found your grace,
come riding the mouse -

O Lord of the hosts!

Anointed of the dust of your foot
on his forehead, who lives mortal here,
immortal nectars cannot tempt him -
he can drink venom smiling;
Just by the shadow of your grace
the wheel of the chariot of time moves
and by a spark of your ire
abodes of demons burn;

The minions of enemies stand defeated,
miraculous, boon become into this world,
comes your name:

O Lord of the hosts!

Glory, glory to the dear one adorned of peacock-feathers!
Amy Irby Jan 2018
you don't know it
if you don't know the sacrifice
the bleeding,
the beating,
the mocking,
the cursing,
the betrayal,
the nails,
the darkness,
the fire,
the promises

My soul will not be lost to among the dead
I am rescued
I live in peace
here on earth
my rest is in love
the promises
the fulfilled promise

No wonder I sing
I scream because I know who I am
I don't know who that was
Love changed her
Love that loved me before I loved back
Love is present, everyday
I read the love letters written to me
they give me life
the Word is Living
I talk about the love letters
and it changes the atmosphere
promises change everything

hope is secure
nothing shakes me
though the earth under me may quake
and raise the ocean waves
they will not crash over me
Love calms the waves
protects me
shields me always
the oil is poured over me
I am blessed with love
nothing will change that
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