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L B Jul 2018
An early evening gust
broke the back of the day's blaze
Still 90 degrees at eight
in orange haze
Sweat runs down my neck
Through the gorge between my *******
The wind lifts my linen shirt
runs its hands along my sides
reviving memory
of Forest Park
of a blanket in the grass

Where the pines trace
so many faces
Crackling popping kids
stolen matches, running
screaming victorious!
Blowing tin cans up with fire crackers
Bicycles, sparklers, fireworks at dusk
That whole afternoon
I spent hammering caps

Noise really makes us kids

Mom wants us out!
Gone! All of us!
No needs. No excuses!
No cookies! No slices of bologna!
“No more Kool Aid!
Out now!

That evening I tried
to dismiss the itchy sweat
of stupid-sister-Suzy-matching-sun-suits
at Gino's family picnic
When some kid
(I don't know?)
between the rigatoni and the sweet corn
Some kid
tosses a sparkler
into box of fireworks
I don't know?
whether to cry or laugh
I was pretty scared
Rockets going off across the lawn
and onto porch
Craze of colors through the trees
Some at eye-level horror!
But the sight of Aunt Nedda
diving under picnic table
Stockings, garter belt upended
Capsized beyond her caring
of uplifted dress

Some images just stay with you, ya know?

July 4th always lands for me
on a firework's ***
"Caps"  are little red rolls of gunpowder dots, originally made to give a snap to toy guns of the 1950s.  We figured out that by layering them and using a hammer, you could get a bigger crack.
jcl Dec 2018
you are the center, the sun in the sky
warming, lighting, guiding those below

you are the core, the hub in the wheel
forming, maintaining, strengthening the circle

you are the earth, the bedrock beneath
supporting, stabilizing, reinforcing our lives

you are the reason for our being, our births, our lives
nurturing, nourishing, caring for our hopes, our dreams

you gather, sort the fruits, roots harvested from the land
tending, stoking, reviving embers smothering in the hearth

your strength transcends your body, your mind, your heart
from the first child, to the last, your love, affection is forever

you cradle, caress, kiss, comforting the child
reassuring, protecting, shooing monsters away

you are the strong, tough, steady woman in our lives
fierceness of a lioness, tender as a kitten, loving her child
Thank you Mom, for the sacrifices, you made for me.
Tammy M Darby Dec 2016
Allowing my heart to plummet into iridescent spiraling tides Dipping my thoughts into iridescent spiraling tides
Trailed my fingers through the cold waters of the mind
Releasing thoughts from the subconscious purposely hidden
That by self-command were long forbidden

Reviving emotions once deliberately struck from thought
The body a pale failing vessel
The faint beat of a frail heart

In my, despair I leaped into the waters of time
Disappearing into gathering memories
Chose not to rise
Preferring a surreal obscure existence
Immersed in rivers of doubt  
At loves insistence

All Rights Reserved @ Tammy M. Darby Dec. 25, 2016
- Apr 2016
Thanks for reviving
What was dead
The cherry trees dance while blossoms fall,
as if heavenly angels have come to call;
And willing winds fly through dogwood trees,
their leaves dotting landscapes from the breeze.

All this occurring in a dream-filled land,
of poets and prophets in glory's stand;
And gardens overflowing with daffodils,
waving yellow flags from giant hills.

The glancing birds fly off to greet,
in sunbursts' skies of colorful treat;
And rainbows curve their way to gold,
a cherished gift for both young and old.

Delicate as the blossoms may be,
their worth is greater than that of the sea;
While continuing to shed fragrant melodies,
and reviving sweet springtime's reverie.
Kurt Carman Feb 2017
Its in these waters, when I was merely a Parr
Or as you might refer to me as a fry,
This wise but young Brook Trout cruised the slow water with my kinfolk fry.

Moving to and fro hiding among the biome vegetation
The sunlight supported my living space and warmed my growth rings.
I dart in and out of the oxygenated seams which help me flourish.

Some days, I had to use stealth to outwit the pine marten and warblers,
I shadowed the cattail and watched them fill their bellies with those around me.
But I felt fate had a purpose for me to be something special.

And When the time was right, I'd ****** myself above the water into the night air.
The large circle of orange light filled my eyes and the night sky was filled with luminary.
I imagined what it must be like to live outside this riffle domain.

This morning, through my refractory vision I spot some floating objects,
And through an inherited sensory recall I can see these are hatching green Drakes.
I immediately shoot to the surface and fill my stomach, then swim back to the undercut for cover.

As the years pass by and maturity abounds,  I find my self settling in behind a large boulder
Right at the tail out of the back eddy, providing me with an ample food supply.
And it's here I prefer to live my life in the slow current, content and peaceful.

And one day as I swam into the current seam, I spotted what appeared to be,
A different looking terrestrial hopper with yellow belly,  so I make my move.
He's not moving much so I decide to raise my head above the water line and sip.

As I grab the hopper I start to slide back behind the boulder,
When I feel a pinch, as if someone try's to pull me towards the surface
I fight with all my might but this force proves to be stronger than I.

It's now I realize a human reels me towards the shore line, and I'm fearful.
This one called a human, grabs my tail and places his hand on my under belly.
Pulling me from my home, he dislodges the hook from my mouth. I gasp for oxygen.

He looks me over from nose to tail, smiles and says how beautiful I am.
He looks me in the eye And says " This was a wonderful fight my friend, enjoy the rest of your life,
He places me back in water, gently reviving me and finally lets me swim away.

I dare to turn and look back at him for a moment and as he continues to watch me,
I hear him say " I fish, knowing everyday on this stream is a gift."
Support catch and Release
Sarra Jun 21
You say
I'm a live river
Quenching your needs
showing you the road
Melted bronze
mending your cracks
filling your shallows
I'm a burning flame
guiding you home
reviving your soul

I say
I'm a dead ocean
poisoned with your delusions
murdered by your conceptions
Shattered Jade
crushed under your repression
grinded by your avidity
I'm a dying star
drained by your vanities
****** into your darkness

I say
Set us free.
Sachin Subedi Apr 2018
Wolf in the Wilderness
Legend tales of Lion
Deep Blue Sky above
The tall green bushes
A quiet constant breeze
Rainbow colored butterflies
Dancing over the dazzling yellow floras
The bright Sun glittering its sharp light Over a fascinating white stream
Steady and free
The green vibrance
Of the heart of nature
Notion of love
Everything is alive
Alive i am
Wolf in the wilderness
Alive i am.
Serena Feb 2018
The sun
Is glad to see your face,
Your unseen grace,
Your Hidden space,
Silhouette now covered in sun beams.
It seems
You've been
Packed away for a very long time
Its almost a crime how you've
Shielded yourself from his hydrogenity.
The sun
Is glad to see your smile
Your pearly whites
And colorless lips
Too cold,
Golden fingers graze your cheek
And Bring life back to your pallor.
Who knew
Living as a recluse would make you so blue,
So unidentifiable?
He Brings you back from the dead
Pulling your soul back out
into your flesh.
And healed,
At least Temporarily
But it
is enough,
His touch,
To liven your now tanning skin
To Make you akin to his own:
A sunflower
Trapped in the dark
3 inches tall instead of 3 feet
Now starting to grow beyond skyscrapers with his aid,
if his light is what's causing you to
Stand up straight
His heat is what is reviving your heartbeat
A Crescendo from silence to a slight pitter patter
Almost as soft as rain.
Almost as if crying.
If you listen hard enough,
You just might hear it wimpering, waking up from it's hibernation.
Wants to go back to sleep
But he
Refuses to give up his efforts of recesitation
For he knows it isn't for naught,
For he knows that it is working,
Your heart stirring
Louder as you step further out of the door frame
Let him
Cradle your soul with his firey hands
Let him
Bring you back from the dead.
You Look so much more alive when you let him work his magic on you.
The world
Has missed you.
Looking around,
Your mind starts whirring,
Analysing The outside world.
The Green of the grass and the
Blue of the sky,
All Graces of the solar angel shining over you,
Shining into you.
Giving you sight,
Giving you life,
Giving you the things you couldn't have before.
Let his
Golden happiness seep into your freezing bones,
Turn them into torches
And burn brighter, in the daylight
Than you ever did in the darkness.
Unloading my notes onto hepo! This is a piece I never got to share in poetry club, so I'll share it with you guys (:
Eliza Noxon Jan 2018
Platonic Love Song

The wind in our hair as our lungs work
Screaming out the lyrics to a teenage summer
As we drive free, racing, to the waves and mountains
Lights in our eyes and hands over hearts
Youthful yearning fills us, as we get caught chasing the sky

Her laughter fills my soul and she begins to dance
While she wraps her arms around me, safe
A fire blazes, but our smiles are what light up the night
We make the stars jealous, 
They beg for half of our shine

Embers and vapour fill the air, 
Hands trading drinks and smoke and care
Music floats and lyrics sink in
Lips trading stories and laughter and kisses
Engines start, stop, jump, and rumble

Her eyes gleam and shift, catching attention
Hypnotising and beautiful, 
They draw us in, keep us safe, and we ask to stay. 

Let yourself love your friends. Let yourself stay with them. 

She pumps music into our lives, her voice loud
We dance to the wild tempo of our heartbeats
Crass and catching, her voice settles in us

Let people in, even when it’s hard. Let yourself love them. 

She scrunches her face up and tosses in jokes,
Making us smile at any price, 
She helps us laugh the pain away. 

Let people love you back. 
I know it can be hard but...

She covers her smile with a hand, 
Else she’d blind us, but we’d be alright,
If that could be the last thing we see

If you aren’t in love with your friends, where is your absolution? 

She swings her hips and we get lost in her lips,
The gold on her skin, the brown in her eyes, 
Entrancing on a new level, and we exalt

If you aren’t in love with your friends, then something is wrong. 

She grabs our hands, reviving and vital, 
Her shoulders jump and so do we, she’s got us on our feet
Her energy is infections, makes us forget imperfection. 

If you aren’t in love with your friends, where are you spending your time? 

Existing in a different state, but in the same hearts, 
And we are all staring at the same jealous stars. 
She feels like a home you’ve never been too. 

If you aren’t in love with your friends, then you’re not doing it right. 

Because for me, they define ride or die, 
The first loves of my life, they mean open
Open arms, open homes, open hearts
They are coffee in the cold and make up in the night, 
Empowerment in the dark and hope in the now. 

Love isn’t just for spouses and partners, 
  Love is for those who you know with your heart, 
Who’s soul touched yours, and said, 
“Hey, it’s been a while. I missed you.” 
And if you haven’t felt that yet then I’m sorry, 

But don’t worry, you’ll find them. 
And when you do, it will be like coming home. 
And you’ll know. 

If you aren’t in love with your friends, then you haven’t met mine.
Mary Anne's heart of beauty,
Is friendly with TLC.
I admire her loving heart.
Her friend I sure like to be.  

When the stars come out at night,
They're in search of her heart's gold,
That imparts light like sunshine,
They gladly accept I'm told.

Should the stars ever go  out,
She'd impart her sunshine there,
Reviving the stars' beauty,
And giving warmth it does bear.

Her heart full of TLC,
Means so very much to me.
Blue Orchid Oct 2018
I feel like summer,
Like sunlight and humidity,
A delight but also a force to be recond with
Capable of reviving your wilted soul
But still etherial
I feel like winter
Chilling to the bone
Misunderstood yet packed with potential.
My moods are of the fall,
But if you look closer,
Much closer
you might find beauty in my colors
In the sunset orange
In the faded green
Around my cracked edges.
I feel like spring,
Touched with new beginnings
A part of the equinox
Of mysterious and outerworldy things
A fraction of the universe.  
I feel like the distant waves
Overflowing with ups and downs
Yet exciting
Wanting and calling
I feel like the kiss you left on my cheeks,
Kelsey Dec 2018
I could write love poems for days
Yet not once have I been in love
(With someone else that is)
I could write a book of sonnets
With no one to recite them to
(Except to myself of course)
I can preach about the danger in our love
And the joys in our heartache
Because I am a Narcissist who hates myself
I am an utmost contradiction
An antithesis, an oxymoron
(or maybe just a ***** full stop)
Either way I have loved myself
The way the moon loved the sun
And yet I've destroyed myself
The way Mt Visuvius destroyed pompeii
Relentless, and still gentle,
A beautifully tragic mess.
Self love turns to self hate
With the flip of a switch of my bedroom lights
Light turns to dark
And I turn into my own worst nightmare
Becoming my own demons
And when morning comes
And I'm so bloodied and bruised,
Ill nurse my broken body tenderly
Reviving my former self
I'll look in the mirror and see
The only friend, the only lover, the only person
That has ever stayed
And i'll remember why I love who I am
And how I am strong,
Stronger than my demons,
Than my own thoughts ,
And stronger than myself.
your love
a freshly born sunrise
fills me with bliss

reviving my spirit

you are my source of light
each dark day now a waste

for this is where the danger lies

when your sun sets
so does my life
basically me being sad again what's new
Reviving the mere inceptive  conversation we had,
it was 15th of may when we first met.
~~not in real but on social app.

it makes me smile when i remember first ever conversation we had.
it was gawky we didn't knew what to talk, though we had such a pleasant talk.

I won't lie to butter you up
but trust me you were looking so
gorgeous that day,
you made me feel so right with just one look you took my breath away.
There was a fire
that once glowed
with a brightness
that could
a whole city.
It’s roaring flame
a blazing light
that no eye
could not see.
It burned
with all it’s might
a ferocious heat
giving all it’s strength
to living,
without strife
to carry itself
or worry
of an end.
But the atmosphere..
and things began to change.
What once roared
was now weak.
A fearsome strength,
now weary.
A mighty glow,
a city on a hill,
a blaring light,
now an amber
no eye could see.
It was dark,
and rained
for what felt like
The fire
that once loved to shine
now hid in the ashes,
until the flame
was no more.
With no strength,
no will,
no passion to reignite,
the flame died down,
and so willing,
to cease.
Hours past.
The rain continued to pour,
a flood that gave
no hope
of dry land.
Dreary and tired,
the flame
over the life
it lost.
The passion to burn,
to live,
to glow,
to exist,
was now just
a memory.
The amber gave up.
But it could not
go out.
In the confusion
and pain
to still be here,
a gentle voice
“I will never stop carrying you,
my little light.
You will shine,
more magnificently
even fiercer
than the very sun itself.
The world will feel your heat,
your glow,
and stand amazed
at what you’re burning for.
you’re burning for.”
All that time,
through the rain,
the cold,
the sorrow,
stood a man who refused
to leave.
Huddled down,
closer than breath,
He stewarded,
not afraid of the dirt
or the mess
or the pain.
A man that
the fire.
One by one,
piece by piece,
He added the wood.
Not distracted
or eager
to be anywhere else,
not anxious
of the time it took,
He was watching,
and sustaining
what still remained.
“I will not
give up on you,
though the world
has turned away
and you,
have given up
on yourself.
I will
for all of life
for all of eternity
be fighting for you,
sustaining you,
reviving you.
Rise now, burning one.
You have been low,
you know the sorrow
of what it feels like
to be
But now it is time
to take my hand
and trust,
that you will not
have to keep yourself
I was here through it all,
the rain,
the cold,
the sorrow,
and I will be there,
lifting you,
stoking you,
tending to your flame,
so you will never
again accept
dying out.
No longer
content to live
in a life
so dull
and dark.
child of light.
For your Father,
who tenderly
calls to you,
eagerly awaits your glow.
For the greatest gift
is here now,
yours forever.
Shine in His
Cepheus Feb 26
Every time you loosen our entwined hands,
I tried to hold onto the warmth

Every time I think I’ll be able to meet you,
My heart dyes with a beautiful shade.
Even the common things turn into memories when we’re together

Even your voice, even those fragile shoulders,
Even your eyes are not mine,
No matter how much I am by your side,
My feelings won’t come true unless I destroy your future,
One moment’s dream; I love you to the extent that it hurts,
But tonight is ending

I walk the shimmering streets,
Trying to cover the times we can’t meet,
Your playful smile, after our hands had met for the first time,
Keeps reviving in my memories

I want to embrace you; I want to embrace you tightly,
Yet you are not mine; my broken heart now,
Wants to embrace you, but I cannot,
I want you to the degree that it’s overflowing, that it’s melting,
Without even being able to stop the FX and make a promise
You wave your hands

Even your voice, even those fragile shoulders,
Even your eyes are not mine,
No matter how much I am by your side,
My feelings won’t come true unless I destroy your future,
One moment’s dream; I love you to the extent that it hurts,
But tonight is ending
© TAXI by TOHOSHINKI Lyrics Translation;
Etréstles asks oblation to the unfortunate of the World ..
he asks to give his offering House that is not his house,
to synchronize your departure to be in the company of Solitude,
He does not have his sacred Cemetery before leaving for Nineveh ...

He has disappointed himself of the Archpriest of Ayia Lavra for his strong telluric pains in his marble abdomen ...
The holy oil that furrowed his forehead, furrowed his soul
he has not recognized himself when his own umbilical nap has flourished a wafer of the Messiah who has traveled alongside him by the pavilions of Messolonghi in clarions rubies ..

My father Staktos; come, I have not yet received the indulgence of abandoning what is not abandoned, I need to hear your voice from my sixth reincarnation playing on the roads of the oracles that illuminate the world, which is yours and the Messiah Choir on the Magdala heavens .

Father I have not yet gone, and so many lives I have lived to see your distant face on grass barley resembling your breaths of late sunny spring celestial sermon sermons. But this time I want to cheer you beyond the imagination of eclectic anemia, with the aching pain descending through my impure heart.

Nothing torments me more than to move away from the hells that do not know that I run through the prairies towards you without getting tired, imagining that I will fall into the neglect of your forgetfulness. I quickly lose my Laud from my right arm as a short-handed little fish, to commit the indiscretion of anticipating me to worship you with my dislocated left arm that carries the Harp from Lethe confiscated from Euterpe.

Harmony that ignores Dinora in the false forests of Messolonghi in flames. You are my cobble who pierces the cries of my crucified hands, timbers of lymph incense next to the sweetness of your words that grew green in my dreams.

Challenge with this interloquy of your incandescent soul, this is how The Last Temptation of Etrestles begins with its bleeding fingers, in the inflexible forgiveness of praising all those who want to dance with the mothers of the Shadows; that Staktos is his father, before reviving him and resuscitating him in his exodus to Nineveh, land hunched over by the Host, tortuous and artificial light shone from the recklessness of him who will make him sleep through the desert of life in farewell fantasies. Winds are felt singing whistles of hydrogen sulphide rocking from the edge of the cliff of the cloud, to fall on the shoulders of the timid death, False Blood, clumsy blood to wash my feet on Virgo and Jupiter in the sand. .

Father, in purgatory, make the sounds of the new dawn without any detail or gesture of repentance.

Thus Etrestles receives the Eucharistic host offering in his holy mouth and runs down the corridors of the great mysteries of the Nothing of good spirit of all Mantle.

To be continue…
Onoma Apr 14
frequent my guest--

change me up, up, up...

music the dance.

dime dead warm figurations.

the first break of glass.

be there.

brashly reviving like

green leaved cheeks

in vogue.

featurette of bent wings--

where's the air?

to substance gone.

love me now~
pluto Dec 2018
Imagine giving life
to what consumes yours,
reviving the pain
that caused devastating wars.

Imagine fixing
what tears you to pieces,
remembering the broken
and lying kisses.

Imagine destroying
what completes youㅡ
what makes you whole
yet poisons you from the inside.

Imagine killing
what makes you alive.
burn old memories, tear old letters,
forget people and, maybe, survive.

Bury it all.
Erase it all.  
Leave what you treasure the most.
Destroy what holds your shattered soul together.

Can you break away
from what binds you to home?
Can you let go
of what you hold on to?

No, you can't.
Because it is in this pain
that you found home.
"Imagine" he began, "and do not forget that it is only a figment of your imagination"
AditiBoo Sep 2018
The fire wasn’t dead
Quietly it had been smouldering
Underneath the black of the ash was the red
Resilient embers burning, rising, somehow surviving

The question that remained
Was whether to **** or revive it
The answer within us was contained
Understanding that, to this choice,  we would have to commit

To **** this fire that once burnt so bright
Would also mean being left, damp and cold
No longer having comfort in the night
Learning to reshape the couple cocoon into a single’s mould

And reviving a tired fire takes true commitment
Understanding that what once was, has morphed and matured
The flame needs attention, compromise and investment
The flame is fragile and vulnerable, sceptical from its abandonment endured

So we stare at the crackling coal
Wanting to go back to how it was before
But neither options will make the fire whole
Only seeking to go back to get back the past rapport
Lucas Jul 2018
I want to live like Starfish
simply giving my right arm
and noticing after I make the sand-angel
yet still resembling a furious nuclear planet 93,000,000 miles away
to forget a piece of myself and live as if it was always lost

to stick up my nose at lost extremities
'cause that's gotta hurt worse than heartbreak
bleeding nothing but the air I breath
like the currents and jetsam and shores
I am but a system of the sea

I wish to chase the tide
to make my worries be of the moment
letting seawater be my blood
ebbing and reviving as the brine tickles my insides
every roll of wave my heartbeat

yet blustery winds blow; rattling the depths with tempestuous intent
finding hidden fury concealed underneath my cracking skeleton
maybe these things are stored in a lost limb
and can satisfy some gull roosting in the cliffside above
eating my feelings for me

I wish my potential
were undiscovered depths
where seaweed grows like ivy across shipwrecks
turning former "value" into a house for the stars
maybe a couple with only four legs
5 stanzas
5 arms
well 4 if you don't count the one in the gull's mouth
Olivia Bilocca Nov 2018
Take me to the sea
To the trees
To the soil
To the grass
To the mountains, hills at least

Give me air
For my lungs need to breathe
Indeed they are starving
They are inhaling strongly
To no avail, hardly any air is coming through.

It's crowded, people. All around me.
Full of concrete
I lift my gaze to the sky
But where is it?
I cannot see much
Except for the concrete
The balconies
The high rises

I need space where to run free
In the countryside.
I need to inhale
And feel my lungs fill with crisp fresh air
To give me life.

I cannot connect to the concrete.
It doesn't speak to me
The soil has so much to say
The ocean is loud and chatters on forever
The mountains whisper
The valleys offer comfort
The grass is reviving.

But concrete;
Its heart is dead, it never beat in the first place.

It's spreading fast
And it's slowly crushing me
Suffocating me.
The little green Goblin
Shrouded in rust red
Creeping in my garden
Reviving what is dead.
It sparks my tongue
Pulls it tightly out
My fingers are numb
After tugging it about.
Blood hot, it rushes,
Lungs heaving hard
The sound of vocals
Incoherent, yet sharp.
Breath hard, let go
Confidence in my ears
Drip hot from the soul
Penetrate wet fears.
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