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Ryan Hall Nov 2014
A place for everything and everything in its place
I say to you on the subject of asylum inmates
Washing their hair with hand soap,
Driving by in our heated car on winter tires,
With a trunk full of tools, smelling of bleach.

“Where are we going?” I ask,
As a road bump rollicks our persons.
“A place…” you begin to say, knowing I’ll finish the rest.

The blurred landscape, the transition from place
To place makes me think of more things and places.
The poor in the streets for trusting the rich, served Right,
Denizens of New Orleans who live on the brink
The tools in the trunk, beginning to stink--

Part of me wants to see the truth before it’s too late,
And the other knows our destination.
For the tools trusted me, as I do you,
Yet there is no other place for me.
Farah Taskin Sep 2021
A princess
lives
in an eyrie
She has a magic wand
So she rollicks
She gazes
at the Pegasus
that disguised as an
aeroplane


The gardenias
the marvel of peru
the hibiscus
the poinsettia
the sweet pea
and the wisteria
electrify her
The warblers
visit her
everyday


She turns springy in spring
She turns sad in winter
She becomes restless in summer
She rises
like a phoenix
from the ashes
Again
she eagerly waits
for spring

She travels
to salubrious
places
She is elusive
It's an autobiography!!! lol
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Beneath the amber canopy, where autumn leaves descend,
The breeze hums soft and golden, as gentle branches bend.
The fields wear coats of copper, the skies a mellow hue,
And all the earth lies peaceful, wrapped in dreamy prismatic view.

But wait! Whispers in the woodlands, augur of winter drawing near,
The streams grow slow and silent, the days are crisp and clear.
The trees now bare and shivering, braced for the northern icy chill,
Autumn weaves her fading robe, down the vale and up the hill.

Come winter! She reigns with crystal breath, adorned in silver frost,
Locked in icy slumber, the world is mesmerized and bitten frost.
But there's beauty in her bite, with X'mas stars sharp and bright,
The glaring lustrous moon, outshines the longest of starry nights.

As the snow thaws timid, soft whispers stir an uncanny earth,
Tender shaven heads of buds uncurl, and tranquil signs of birth unwhirl.
The air gets sweet with secret songs, streams anew in lyrical reprise,
This stoic winter though lingering still, paves the way for spring's encore.

And aloha! Spring blossoms bright and gay,
Skies sing choirs, of vibrant dawns and blossom-kissed dusks.
Draped in vibrant hues, the air is filled with laughter cues,
Joy spills out from sprightly souls, life renews her tillowed-faery soles.

And there! The summer sun blazes high, within skies of endless blue,
Fields dressed up in emerald green, the flowers are bright and true.
Warmth that hums in every breeze, rollicks lush in flare and plume,
Golden rays embrace an enchanted earth, joy looms large in **** and bits.
Sona Lachina Oct 2019
My muse sleeps in the ****
She rollicks til dawn
And moans at the moon
She told me once she had
A sawtooth fling with a
        luckless Spaniard
                in Madrid
                in spring
Ragged and religious love
And she danced with him
Wearing flouncy whim
Her petticoat showed

        And the red cape flowed
                the red cape flowed

She walked out on me
When my well ran dry
When I couldn't fly
I pictured her
        ***** in hand
Listening to some
        lost-boy band
Woozy from the trancing beat
Purring in a poet's ear

        Oh the promises my dear
              the promises my dear

She dropped in late one night
Dressed in drama
        stained with rhyme
As I was taming a cranky line
And she winked at me
        like things were fine
As if she hadn't been gone
        but an eye's blink
I opened the door and
Poured her a drink --

        I called her home
        I called her.       home.
Everyone has their little diversions. . . .

— The End —