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King Panda Jul 2017
key into lock
skull-like
iris
blooming
in the corner
vintage red
sipped down
2 liters
of 2006
an amount of
a capacity of
mind
pink
rose
horse out of
water
through mud
moon gallops
across
warzones
couples kissing
and
for a moment
winks in
the horizon
of day
Dr zik Jul 2017
Sun sets every eve
Sun rises every morn
Day splashes light in dark
Seed peeps out in a hurry
Bird tweets in joy full song
Departure needs forgiveness
Arrival bows in norm
O’ my Lord!
Bless me
---------------
My dear mother passed away on Monday, June 19, 2017. May Allah (God) bless her with Jannah. Amen!

Dr ZIK's Poetry
CK Baker Nov 2017
mirrored fly-glass
and polished chrome
are tinted
in the blood orange dawn
running dogs of lummi
hush quiet
on this celestial
summer morn

clubman bars
and tan saddles
strapped to
the lowered hind
skull caps
and fitted chaps
for the open flow
and rich peripheral scenes

concessions at the peace arch
(from the blue-coated fuzz)
black *****
and maples
cake the bow hill
and chuckanut

choppers launch
at edison
(with their metal fleck
and tuft)
a half moon rises
on the concho
and interstellar cross

cinnamon gulls
and ravens
scour the netted docks
warlock driftwood
and row homes
spot the winding
coastal roads

rumbling sounds
at the packer slew;
the redolence
of briny bay
alive
on the overlook
at fairhaven
Spent a couple days in late September on a motorcycle trip with my brother...weaving through the small towns and villages of the Pacific Northwest.  Magnificent!
David R Jun 2018
Round about is deep black darkness,
Darker than the blackest night,
Whispering deep 'n dreadful murmurs.
Bird dropped dead in midflight.

Blind and weeping, lifeless attle,
What you see is your own soul,
Burnt and weary from the battle.
Disenchanted from its goal.

In the ash, a spark she smoulders,
Crackling, rasping, wounded warrior,
Briars squeeze her neck and shoulders,
Suffocating in smog-fill'd air.

Deep within stagnating water,
Crystal-clear elixir tear,
Rippling movement, life astir,
Phoenix rises from the slaughter.

Still she rises, Golden Daughter,
Fears no longer yonder fright,
Strength within from those who fought Her,
Blackest night turned brightest light.
Nick Stiltner Aug 2018
Horns of triumph sound,
showering the day with a golden glow!
Apollo in his blazing chariot rises from the east horizon, reigns in hand as he flies towards the stars with the morning light tethered tightly behind
his shining carriage.

Eyes long blinded ache from the coming morning,
the dew on the grass shines in radiance
and an emerging smile escapes from lips tightly held together.

A laugh escapes!
The head rolls back, the eyes begin to water!
A gasp for air, a friend held tightly to your chest!

The mournful songs of the lasting night fade to blurred memory, drowned in new light.
The flicker behind a smile that was lost in the white moonlight cracks open again, one that was forgotten deep within the darkened cave.

The first time come again!
A child’s giddy laugh tolls from a mouth set in stone.
A stomach full of nervousness, a mind that will not rest.
I exist on a single beam of light in between two oceans of stretching, black infinity, and I walk the line as a tight rope, balancing deftly with my eyes in the clouds, and a pen held tightly in my hand.

Shades of blue, the morning doves throaty coo,
each second leaps and bounds, elastic stretching and it’s twanging rebound.
The tension in the rope that can’t help but reverberate, and love in exasperation, shiver as the chills come once again.

Eyes met twice, a joy to be now with no questions asked, no thoughts but what the others thoughts are, and how long a moment can actually last.

Nostalgic tones of youths throaty chords ring through the dreary sea, sending the still waves tumbling and crashing, setting a tranquil man into motion once again, releasing the tension in a brow long furrowed, in shoulders tightly hunched, and ending the silence of a tongue held once too many times.

The Sun Gods booming laugh echos down the valley,
a reverberating sound that even the soaring eagle must stop and perk his ears too, losing sight of the mouse he had planned for breakfast, forgetting all but that musical tone.

When the light comes, when the dawning sun rises again, let your eyes water and overflow, let your heart swell and stomach twist, let the chills flow like the white capped river, feel the rapids of emotion that erode even the strongest rocks in the way of the current.

Now I am and I am now,
I bathe in the light and let a smile touch my lips, with my arms spread softly apart.
I take a deep breath of the cool morning air, filling empty lungs to the straining brim,
Oh, the first time come again!
CK Baker Dec 2016
The napalan man in a violet cape  
descended the stair with a lopsided gait
a wretched procession; subscribers in cue
rattling off as they stream from the pew  

sounds and smells from a shadowy place
a catholic priest to gin up base
lanterns strung from bolted doors
cobbled streets and wooden floors  

stepping stones and iron bells
fortified by the citadel
hallowed halls and sepulcher
dragon cane for the horse drawn tour

castle turret,  archer holes
centaur scribed in chamber bowls
garden columns in courtyard view
the blood ballet and hullabaloo  

ancient tombs on warrior grounds
gods and saints who made their rounds
goliath still with battered scythe
knelt in prayer and mummified  

battle fires and crowds that roar
gallows, caves, abysmal war  
gargoyles flock the terrace *****
pearly gates to bring on hope  

serpents, snakes and burning ash
the lava bombs and trident clash
mariners drift in absentee
as neptune rises from the Tyrrhenian Sea
Lurid pressure in perfect hiding,

Heat rises amidst quiet timing.

Covers conceal fingers,
And skin conceals-

Well,

Only from the blinded.

Flitting breath from lungs to neck,

Begging tongue,
And baiting breast.

Tentative flesh,
Upon tentative flesh,

What comes next?

Anything I want,

If this is,

Yes.
Don't judge my #'s
patty m Jul 2018
Beyond the reef
                     in crackling amber
the sun rises above the earth,
                     kissing river beds strewn with lovers

Passed mouth to mouth they whisper innuendo
the possibility of  living *******.
Bobbing bodies mimic boats on waves
and soon delirium penetrates a new country.

Heat and fire flare in bandied breeze
                          igniting insatiable shadow;
Pure and venial, the air incarnate
excites the ocean and ****** sing.

The quivering above ground
slithers silkily spilling watercolor rhapsody,
                         in a gush of white a fertile tsunami
reeks reckless abandon.   Once by moonlight,
they rubbed sleep from eyes, hugging hurt
as they clamored high in ghostly pallor.
Some leading the dance, hungered for knowledge,
others played shadowy roles.
Yet wafting still, comes the foreign fragrance,
fragments of spirituality,  a longing to touch,
as abundance rolls in shorelines green.
                         Offered mercies, fragile as wings,
shades of truth cascading like water, breathless
in sensual splash;
                       how tremulous
                       the image of truth,
                       the threshold of tomorrow.
Yenson 1d
Our Car-boot sales Militaunts
those **** Socially maladjusted leftist soap-boxers
decided in delirious hysteria they've found a sacrificial lamb
To the altar for slaughter sing our merry band of loonies

Hail  Tolpuddle, Tonypandy, even hail the Suffragettes
(those from Bow, which to be honest weren't a lot)
Are you listening Lenin, Tolstoy, marx and Stalin our fathers
And all you thieves, burglars, reprobates, wasters and psychos
our Revolution takes no prisoners, this lamb is for you all

To the New world of People's' Power we give you a black sheep
Leave the Tories, Bankers, the Sloanes, Fat cats and the Aristos
(they're much too strong, well placed and powerful for us)
This lamb here is just right, nothing like a roasted fat black sheep
we take control and own his life, his blood will run like our flag

We'll control his perceptions and own his mind, ain't so comrades
find his weaknesses and vulnerabilities and bob's our uncle
we'll smear, tarnish, persecute, alienate, humiliate, taunt and harass
we'll isolate, victimize, shred and rain miseries and grief on our lamb
maddened and alone, helpless in our in our psychotic grip, he dies
this is war and all is fair in war, we are narcissistic and don't care

We search for guilt, sin, fear and vulnerabilities, all in absence
So trawl out the fake news and made it all up as we go along
create a love interest, bait him and manipulate his emotions
get a Mata Hari an the man and shred his mind with mistrust  
betrayal, pain, humiliation, emotional abuse, all those passions
Drain his confidence, his self-worth, his beliefs and values
***** him of all he holds sacred and dear, bring me his head

Comrades, what is going on, why is this taking so long
This is suppose to be a psyche assault, a ruinous psychological war
We are the majority, with the numbers and we are psychotic bullies
we are loonies, narcissists with no souls, hearts or remorse
What do you mean a 'sterling, centred, upstanding noble and brave character'
You're supposed to rain untold terrors on his mind, shred him to pieces, he should be a broken nervous wreck, we want his blood

I have never deliberately injured or harm a fellow human
I have never coverted  or stolen anything from my neighbor
I am not perfect, but I am what I am and for that I make no apologies
I know that only the TRUTH offers real FREEDOM
He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.

I will say of the LORD, "He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust."

Surely he will save you from the fowler's snare and from the deadly pestilence.

He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.

You will not fear the terror of night, nor the arrow that flies by day,

nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness, nor the plague that destroys at midday.

A thousand may fall at your side, ten thousand at your right hand, but it will not come near you.

You will only observe with your eyes and see the punishment of the wicked.
haley Oct 2017
with her
the sun rises
at midnight

sets when she leaves in the morning

clouds curl at the tips
their edges unmasking freckles of stars
but still the sun rises
at midnight

she is the sun on weekends
coaxing children's toes to bounce along
cement streets
and elderly women to pass lemonade stands
and order
"just a cup for the road"

she is my favorite chair to sit in
with a good book
and a blanket
missing a patch of leather
that i run my hands across
while i read

and when i sit outside with her
at midnight
when the sun peaks its blonde hair
from behind the mountains

i know that she
is my favourite person
to bounce along cement streets with,
my favourite person
to pour a cup of lemonade
"just for the road"
my favourite person to sit with
a good book in hand
a blanket wrapping its arms around our shoulders
my favourite person to hold while we
watch the sunrise
at midnight
patty m Jan 2018
Through the Looking glass
Alice stands in all her splendor.
Her hair a curtain of silver rain,
her soft skin aglow in subliminal light.

A compelling fever rises
as Thomas tries different ways to pull
her up in memory
while writing himself into the tale.  
Poor Thomas delirious in his dilemma, he knows
this will be no easy seduction.  
How fiercely urgent his desire rises
as he longs to end our heroine's self-imposed abstinence.  

Hot April morning ambush,
and our intruder has beguiled our sweet Alice
with heated kisses sweeter than ripened fruit.  
A wildness stirs in the bloodstream.  
Now he slowly and lovingly explores her pristine body
as she shivers beneath his delicate strokes
until high trills rise to fevered pitch.

Pleated line of sky
muted corners softly come into focus.

Loathe to let her go,
passion stirs in his depths
slowly now he tastes her secrets,  shares her pleasure.

Tight buds of anticipation tenderly plucked,
his fingers find the stem, a measure of moisture;
Nimble fingered harmonies play pleasure symphonies
accompanied by soft echoes of youthful delight  
Warm and breathless, crystal rainbows paint the inside of her eyelids as she grows sleepy in afterglow.

Soon he's torn away, his pale poet's face conveying pain
received from this  now cool disconcerting beauty;
Though he touched folds and frills of every petal,
his chapter is immediately erased and the
original story reappears.  

She may have slipped down the rabbit hole,
but forever ladylike and pure is our sweet Alice.
Shofi Ahmed Oct 2017
Shining upon the rose,
lovely the sun rises
over the midday sky.

Without a second thought
the brightest one steps up
bends the ear on the ground.

Prophet Muhammad's (PBUH)
wife was waiting.
He was walking his way home.

Maybe or maybe not
one can revive from the
death sleeping at the night.
Hearing the sound
of the homecoming
beloved's foot though
one can't die.

The blessed lady heard
the sound of the foot
and was sure it was his.
This is it, it's the man, it's his!
He is coming home.

The sun is walking on the way.
It will show up
upon the rose in no time.

Ah, only to discover,
it was Fathima walking
father's home!

She, a woman had
her foot sounds the same as
the man's, the greatest of all!
The very one cannot be copied
because he is the masculine original.

Because from the one
same circle came
the man and the woman.
Maybe with a little gap
spilling infinite pi decimals
new days and new nights.

Still, these are a show of
the one Moon and the one Sun!
Travis Green Dec 2018
The morning light rises over our bodies
in the warm sparkling air, the glistening
sun shining its bright rays upon our flesh,
as I breathe in your alluring escape.  I can
feel your gentle hands seeping in the strands
of my hair, feeling each rising melody take
off towards extravagant flights.  

I want to kiss you on your golden-brown cheeks,
let my crowned world of divine flames spark
your skin, let the music multiply and multiply
into a multitude of marvelous sounds, our eyes
meeting over tantalizing chemistry, distant horses
galloping across the green grassland, as we lay
next to each other thinking of the glorious
moments ahead of us.
Semihten5 Oct 2018
1but they bind the boats to the pier
2how to keep a secret
1they want to be free for themselves only
2forty locked behind doors
1this is the way to live
2we have a dark side

even if the sun rises

Binary Poetry Tecnichal
Mygreatestescape Sep 2018
In the morning when
I have spent myself,
I am serene like
a hurricane,
--(I will call myself
Katrina)
a giant conspiracy
of lovers,
I took a step
without any feet,
the preacher
speaks of god,
of a childhood innocence
that was lost before
it begun,
the stillness of
the soul,
living in the
abyss of
my loneliness,
I cannot believe in
a god that lets
the world rot,
that lets flies die on windowsills,
but yet I believe in
a beloved that
makes me sweep
the ground,
stoop till my back aches,
who looks at me
without any eyes,
and brings tears
to mine,
everything that I ever
loved grows like
flowers
when I see this beloved,
if I know of love
--like a child,
I only know through
my beloved,


and yet,

yet  

    yet


god is a tattered
coat that my grandmother
wears,

to have you listen
to me -- that is my beloved,

spilling my tears onto
ginseng leaves,
dust gathers
like grime,
a second layer of skin,
watching Aphrodite rise
from homes riddled
by ****,

this whole nation cursed,
and yet here is mecca (Medina)
here is Bethlehem
where apples grow freely,
and Eden lies north,
where money rains onto
nudists,

here lives the prowling
sphinx,
here Thebes rises
from the gold dust of
the Sahara ,
her salivating tongue
licks up our dissent,
and our leaders
drags Artemis by
her hair,
the sinners of
earthly ****,
Lucifer wears
armani suits
and defiles cherubs,

they have lit our
children on fire,
and have called
it a sacrifice,
we watched kindness
fall into the deep marrows
of the Styx,

living in a nation
of free will,
undressed free
will and
ravished her against her
will,

my beloved
who wears my anger
like furs,
and milks the world
like a daunting king.
suis-je en train de mourir? - Am I dying?
Karijinbba Jul 2018
There is a legend
about a bird
which sings just once in its life. more sweetly than any other creature on the face of the earth,
From the moment it leaves
the nest it searches for
a thorn tree,and it does not rest
until it has found one.
Then singing, among the savage branches, it pales itself upon the sharpest spine. And dying, it rises above its own agony
to outcarol the larkand the nightingale.
One superlative song,existence the price.
But the whole world stills to listen, and God in His heaven smiles.
for the best is only bought at the cost of great pain....Or
so says the legend.This resonates deeply within me
because being an RHO negativeMother every Gyno MD advised
termination of my unborn a malicious prejudice
even called me hybrid race! the medical database is WRONG  
I SAVED three of my children they were born
they live the loves of my life
Its true with me too the best is only acquired at the price of great pain and sacrifice
If lucky and awake our heart and own intuition will know to aim for the best  Thanks for your time dear poets.
The legend piece is anonymous
but it came to me
and I accepted it as my very own.
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
Shofi Ahmed Mar 2017
I wanted to sneak into
a space down the star
I couldn’t sleep in a night
Huh I was yet to get an
answer to a quiz why!

Though I showed a mirror
The moon floats in the night
gently, the dark could
mingles into the light.
But one couldn’t relay
My sweetie toyed it away!

As if no matter what if one
wishes so is free to sway.
Huh my sweetie toyed it away!

Did the Moon score
tapping in on the starry
night’s blackboard,
how many *****?
Who can tell, who can tell?
Though a cheering sun rises
In the end by the rose.
Myriads stars meltdown
in a stunner’s teardrop.
That stirs coming so close.
Yet is a dwarf over the ocean!

Touches the moon not
one that pulls the most.
The sea lives by the small earth
There is no law in love
My sweetie toyed it away!
Johnny Noiπ Sep 2018
Up the breath while steam rises from the depths of Bettie;
Written w/ the **** of his star of the choir;        1 remembered holding
            enough of the winds
of the daughters of the Ladies of the act of understanding
which is born of the town of the Corporation's crazy                            |
Web flames; Empty Garden sexually kiss him,
he watching the **** buried in the Temple
of the invisible monster playing w/ guns;
Only move the teeth from the center of the corner stood leather Mom:
Ode in the public streets; A reading from the bright lights of the plastic ground beef,      Frenchman Paul to strike him on the                     |        |      |
Appointing members until it receives the correct image of the burning of the holy          Christian bride; For the love you bring the computer hidden in the morning;           Thank you because you felt from the center;
Jack's shadow feeling disappointed by the languages used in the room
                     in his mantle &   played ******
But then it refers only to the Dawn Witch &
The course of the sheath thereof, he lived the life of the call Street's
           thinly speaking in the plural;                    |                          |
paying the penalties on her knees caught & led the return of Jews
on the eve of new brands,                    & hot divas making bigger moves in prison as much as the knowledge of it is cut into the skin of a teenage lady boy; Silly twisting letters        that              may eventually supply the mad woman w/ a sports bra,      |                  |
World Wide *****; the rolls of the other,   |   |  he held the skin of the dying half of the day; Hey.     He dismisses his ***** body from the beach,  of course, the mountains; the barriers of the past to the Queen of the Night,  
        shining light of Asia, of pigments of your       dream that make you stop searching,                             because the entirety of
thee is to buy of him the spirit of life in the spouse ||  | .  |   ---  | |    :      |  | || |
KUSHAL HAZRA Mar 2014
SUN RISES HER UP WITH ITS BRIGHT AMBASSADORS OF MORNING.
                        SHE STRETCHES HER PETALS SLOWLY
AND GREETS HERSELF IN ***** FEET WITH A BLOOM OF JOY.

YELLOW TINGLED LIKE A WATERFALL GLITTERING IN SUNLIGHT.
                      TISSUES KEEP THEMSELVES BUSY,
SERVE HAPPINESS TO THE MAGMATIC BEAUTY OF EACH ERA.

SHE HAS HER OWN UNIVERSE WITH THE SOUL MATE SHE LOVES.
                        TOIL CONSUMED ALL OIL INSIDE HER,
RELAXATION BRING PLEASURE AFTER A DAY’S JOURNEY OF A DOVE.

SHE THANKED THE ANCIENT FATHER FOR THIS WONDERFUL WORLD.
                                     BEFORE ANOTHER SUNRISE,
SUNFLOWER SLEEPS ANOTHER NIGHT AND LIVES ANOTHER DREAM.
Dan Beyer Aug 2018
autumn mist rises
across the glazen waters
through the aspen grove
patty m Apr 2016
From the winds they were spun,
notes that formed music, ethereal and sweet,
and from the stars, poetry sifted
into melody creating song.
    . . . How gloriously the blood stag rises.
sniffing air sweet with supplication
each syllable is a warm caress
each scent a flowered note
sifting softly through air.
        She watches them take flight,
shimmering stars or merely embers
falling to earth light as rain?
How easily their touch dispels heartache,
wrapped in moonlight and blue shadow,
anointed with the fragrance of spruce.

A rose becomes a kiss whose petals caress lips
with velvet softness. . .
Silent night, the entire forest is alight with magic fire.

. . . "Yet secret is poem's end,"
she says with a conspiratorial wink,
before running swift as summer fawn
scattering petals in her wake.

Gaia, bless this fern filled home.
ablaze with starlight and magic
the creatures of earth bow to you mother
all earth is green and new,
glistening
Zumee Jun 2018
Spirit awakens
rises slowly
from the depths
riding the steam of Colombian roast
dancing
to Malian rhythms caught in the air
I breathe in
the tenth-floor Westpark view
on the northern coast
of a southern island

Time, she is a ticking oyster
and This
dazzling, lazy morn:
her mother-of-pearl.
A sunny day, good coffee,
Oumou Sangaré, and a green view...
to want for more would be criminal.
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