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Umi Mar 2018
Pursue the delicate moonlight shining beyond the scene, illuminating the grass of the coming spring in an ghastly silver yet majestic green
Clouds with their sterling lining, the cummuters of the heaven, preventing the sun, or the moon sometimes from shining down to us,
Seemingly caught in an endless journey they travel with the wind,
Yet under these drifting clouds in the sweetest of lights, the world remains to be in slumber, a story which never truly unfurls after all,
Can you gaze into a face fraught with sin, possessed by the one you share this dazzling night with on a day alike the tale of a dream ?
Wrapped up under a celestial sphere, here where dreams and illusions collide within the sweet embrace of your strong caring arms,
Finding rest I can leave my body to the flow of time as it passes,
Grandually sweet seasons may take away ones breath with grandiose,
Until the wish projected within your eyes finds its way to become reality, I will stand beside you with serenity and grace, till I may fade,
I may not be able to hand over these feelings, but the grasp of tomorrow bears some power to it, certainly transient time passes,
Let the depths of your heart guide you to a bright, fantastic future,
Until then, shimmering brilliantly, shimmering behind the horizon,
The Sun rises

~ Umi
Greenie May 2017
Steering wheels too. I grip and they slip. Zero-gravity throats and an acute awareness of how heavy limbs become when theyre unwanted. Flash past street signs ("Virginia", "Jefferson") and cars, those glistening hunks of destiny.

Dont criticize personalities, it kills.
Elah Naldo Apr 2017
sunkissed skin and vibrant skies,
warm season was always the same
but when i met those summer dazed eyes,
i knew that trouble just came

he had lips that kissed wetter than the ocean
he had arms like waves that swallowed me
he filled my summer with cuddly flirtations
he filled thousands of sunflowers within me

but just like how summer came to an end,
he left and autumn arrived with tears to shed
and just like how abandoned flowers would be,
they slowly died inside together with me

that summer was more than fifty shades of love
but all turned into an endless waves of misery
just wishing upon the tangerine sky above
that tides will bring him back to me
an entry to a summer themed poem writing competition
Timothy Feb 2017
Dawn Of A New Season

Melting snow in wood, vale, and city—yet
Everlasting upon the pentacle of mountains high.
Spring—dawn of a new season.
Winter is a cold breeze now
Waiting dormant.

Aube d’une nouvelle saison

Faire fondre la neige dans les bois, vale et la ville — encore
Everlasting sur le pentacle de hautes montagnes.
Printemps — aube d’une nouvelle saison.
L’hiver est une brise froide maintenant
Attend le dormant.

Рассвет нового сезона

Таяние снега в дерево, Вале и город — еще
Вечный после пентакль гор высокого.
Весна — рассвет нового сезона.
Зима – холодный ветерок сейчас
Ожидание покоя.

Świt nowego sezonu

Topnienie śniegu w drewnie, Vale, i miasta-jeszcze
Everlasting na pentagram gór wysokich.
Wiosna-świt nowego sezonu.
Zima jest zimna bryza teraz
Czeka w uśpieniu.
© Timothy 4 February 2017
*Russian version may not be accurate.
It is a beautiful, but difficult language to learn.
**French and Russian. . .love both.
Max Dec 2018
I’m falling for you
Like the leaves in
Autumn.
You brighten me
Like the sunbeams through
Grey clouds.
You color me
Like the trees in
The forest.
You warm me
Like the fireplace
In my house.
I’d wait for you
All year
And when you're there,
I can’t stop
Admiring your beauties.
I love you.
Autumn is sooooo lovely just like you:)
White flag
Left Foot Poet Jan 2019
"Thou canst not then be false to any man.
Farewell: my blessing season this in thee!"
                                                          ­Polonius (Hamlet)
~~~
read these words in a past, as a punk teenager,
back in the mid-you-wouldn't-believe-it-flintztone-age
returned to them, nowadays
when I am seven by ten decades squared, older not wiser

three people told me
what a lucky man I am today,


Even before the noon hour dare arrive,
a shocking delivered by an electrocardio telegram,
thus instigating a product recall of Shakespeare’s blessing season,
drawn from a stale teenage memory storage fast depleting

"This above all: to thine ownself be true"
which denies the false escape
of being false to any human

ingesting this thrice lucky man observation
into the internal inward-facing telescoping observatory,
where I map the true course of the
star-stories
well held in the constellations of my life,
never forgetting that this holistic ecosystem that is my
mind~body must evaluate the truth of this claim

its veracity will differ when assayed by
the big toe of my left foot from whence the poetry comes,
as well as those other interfering guys,
body, mind, heart and soul,
then re-evaluated by the internecine warring of those whiny parts,
the tongue, the hands, the eyes saying me, me,
that perforce means a dynamic constant changing
of every thing

in other words,
thine own truths are fluidity ever changing,
the mapping of your blessings,
best done in pencil with room
for expansion, reversal, and misdirection

have I lost you dear reader?

My Left Foot squeals,
fools, you just hammered
three more nails in the coffin of his depression,
where woes and toes know the inevitable repetition of the troubles he has already deemed, and now foreseen are yet,
ladies in waiting to take him to the tower

My Mind says
in obvious aspects people, you are 100% correct,
but the Inquistors are not fooled, patient in their queries;
My Body simply asks, err, does that make me look fat?
My Souls defers with a yada yada, not my problem, deal with it...

The facts tranverse and reverse,
Ah, the truths of my blessings
As much confusing and last defusing

The little drummer boy marches me in reverse retreat,
while shouting out in time a marching refrain:

Luck can be stored, used then, never more,
Its algorithm, a lifetime calculation,
Woe is me, thrice, deemed lucky,
But the map of my blessing reveals my positioning,
At the map-edge I stand, the last border be just ahead,
Seasons, maps, blessings must stop to journey,
What others see upon me outward, outdated,
All maps, all blessings are black-line bounded,
So too, am I, bounded, confused and confounded

The algorithm computes my nine lives are now radium depleted,
The shell, the shell no longer can be fired,
Even the half life has evaporated, used,
Though it looks fit, the luck has eroded, the feet now touching
My map edged in black, its legend, of use, never more


November 2017
Yet here, Laertes! aboard, aboard, for shame!
The wind sits in the shoulder of your sail,
And you are stay’d for.
There; my blessing with thee!

And these few precepts in thy memory
See thou character. Give thy thoughts no tongue,
Nor any unproportioned thought his act.
Be thou familiar, but by no means ******.
Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried,
Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel;
But do not dull thy palm with entertainment
Of each new-hatch’d, unfledged comrade.
Beware Of entrance to a quarrel, but being in,
Bear’t that the opposed may beware of thee.
Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice;
Take each man’s censure, but reserve thy judgment.
Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy,
But not express’d in fancy; rich, not gaudy;
For the apparel oft proclaims the man,
And they in France of the best rank and station
Are of a most select and generous chief in that.
Neither a borrower nor a lender be;
For loan oft loses both itself and friend,
And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.

This above all: to thine ownself be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
Farewell: my blessing season this in thee!
Tyler A Sullivan Feb 2018
TURN OF THE SEASON

For Friends and Family


Then be not coy, but use your time;
And while ye may, go marry:
For having lost but once your prime,
You may forever tarry.
                                          -Robert Herrick

Intoxicated nights of orange halogen lights-
Illuminating through misty blown water.
As the April breeze ruffles the newly sprung leaves upon the trees,
Men pour malted liquor inside clandestine cellars of tuxedo staff and obsequious waitresses

Echoes of an engine shuffles on down the alley,
Startled it hides in the cornered places.
Men enclosed in smoke talk of days of old-
And better times,
And many men before and after grasp the image of their obscured faces.

Woman go about chatting of useless things and waste the night away.
Men sit about playing games of little meaning and waste the night away.
Both will head to familiar places at mornings first rays
And April effortlessly falls into May

And many men before and after grasp the image of their obscured faces
Slowly trudging through the paces
Slowly they tighten their laces

And set out for another monotony dipped day

Planting their ears to the ground listening
And many things they'll hear and say
With many hindsight memories in their mind glistening
And their lovers will whisper are you listening
And they'll say "yes yes my dear have no fear I am here"

And many men before and after grasp the image of their obscured faces
And they'll make many a plan and in cases
And step over cracks in fear of dark places


The clink of a glass carries on down the hall
The bartender while wiping the counter yells
"Last call"
And they'll retort "for what reason"
And he "none at all"
Then the bar goes the way of the shopping mall
And summer slips effortlessly into fall

What reasons can they make when the night is through
When it's time to wake what will they do

As the days retreat with their hairline
And each mirror more distortive than the last
They'll retreat further, further into their mind
And what will they find
With their sanity fleeting fast
A desperate thought floating in the breeze
A candle to thaw the freeze


Intoxicated nights of solemn solitude
Tucked in the back thoughts of a lonely suburb
Trying arduously to abandon actuality
But failing and jumping the curb

And many men before and after grasp the image of their obscured faces
"Sorry love they're not home I'm afraid"
"They've gone to the races"
Each two lovers in two different places

Rest assured rest assured they'll return
They'll unconsciously sell their freedom
Rest assured rest assured they'll return
At this moment they are Carpe Diem

Rest assured rest assured
They'll be plenty of time
To fumble with furniture
Plenty of time
To spend with her
Plenty of time to waste
Plenty of love to give
Now's to go slow not make haste
Now's to go slow and live


And they'll remember childhood
As a warm August kiss
And where their feet stood
And what they missed
And when the leaves
Upon the trees
Fall down down down
To rise to their knees
They'll remember who they are
And who they use to be


So, before you grow old
And wilt away
And the December cold
Melts the summer’s day
Enjoy what you have
For what you have is to enjoy
For what you haven't
Are merely foolish toys

This summer began as the last one did
And will end when Autumn bids
With the sun and stars above for you to see
Run around like children in the heat of lunacy
...


Though I've fasted and wept,
Wept and prayed
And stayed stoic long
Through passing day
And bards’ men song
I can never,
Never truly say
I have achieved arête

No, I'm not the son of Xanthippus
Who instigated the apogee of Athens
The past beacons of Atticus
Dims my own ember passions

Though I've loved and lost
Loved and lusted
Won a few
Others busted
Though I've seen the world at the needle point,
With all the sordid souls suffering
I've lived like Cummings
The farthest extent of emotions
I've kept a drug induced devotion
But never could I stop from wondering
Never could cease sundering

I've seen the valleys of my life
Where the flowers are disseminated like t.v. static
And the only sound a high tinnitus pitch
They've said go, Go I don't love you anymore
Not pretty enough to be a poem
Not intelligent enough to be of any use

Though I've smiled and agreed
Agreed and died
Through all this hell
I have tried
...



They're troubled tonight
Their restless gaze fails to penetrate the maw of a darkened window-

To have
To have not

To operate in the probity of normality
To practice trembling sobriety
To lose an arm for the ones you love
To have in heart the morning dove,

Assures that come evening tide
Through shroud and delusion
Secrets the world shall confide
And lift your illusion
...

The very next morning
Or so it would seem
Awoke the old men
Rendering a dream

Patiently focusing
For a clearer account
The words from the past
They seemed to mount
And as they pressed closer
Not to be deterred
It crested their mind
And then they heard

"Soured metal, rotted walls
Darkness hangs from hall to hall
Broken bonds burning ambitions
A feeling half held until fruition

Life a moment
A last choking breath
Happiness a second
Before eternal death

We exist only
In the time between
A hint of joy
Goes often unseen

Until again
The crest breaks
And life slips by
But leaves no wake

Such was the tale
Of the great eluder
A hidden knife
A dark intruder

A ****** thorn
Upon the rose
A heap of sand
At the toes

Left undone
The last request
Above the head
The water crest"

Intolerable mornings of required communion
Accompanied with formulated phrases
Men limp from church
Their mind wondering
Far from there
To their childhood breakfast table
Breathing the memory becomes stable
They hold on to it as long as they are able
Plates of porcelain
Decorate the wall
Floral patterns swirling to the center
Across the room mother enters
The image wavers and ripples like water disturbed by a pebble
"Honey set the table
Get the biscuits, gravy, ladle."
Set the trays down equal from the middle, a cup to the left, forks and knifes to the right-
Get those filthy boon dockers off my floor and out of sight
Go get your brother without causing a fight
BREAKFAST TIME
Rise and shine on the biscuit line
BREAKFAST TIME
The sun is up and shining
The coffee is on and the bacon frying"

The memory dissipated into a fleecy cloud.
It hangs heavy on their heads.
Remnants of yesterday remembered in indignation
When slipping off to bed.

I'm in the December of my days
And stuck fast in my stubborn ways
If only I could grasp youth for longer
If only my frail body were stronger

If only I were confronted again with every last myriad encounter where I chose reticence
Opposed to openness
My martial mind refuses any peacefulness
Perhaps the reason of my restlessness
...

Shaking off the foreboding dream
A distant luminary seemed to gleam
An old man frail but proud
He spoke a poetic oration aloud

"My head is swollen, my mind it wanders
My tongue is twisted stumbling it stutters
My thoughts are lost in the colliding clutter
My meaning is lost under soft mutters

My smile shields my solemnness
My eyes reveal my weariness
I am a man of little happiness
But refuse to possess helplessness

I am as I decree
An old man wrapped in misery
But not one broken to submission
Just one in a transition

I have tasted the bitters of love
Witnessed the horrors of death
I have choked my linen dove
To its final breath

No, I am not a careless senior
Full of content
Shriveled in demeanor
Mind absent

I'm dying not dead
No resolving to expiration
Living instead
No meeting expectation
No bowing my head

In credence I say
I'm living for today

No consideration for tomorrow
No more drowning in sorrow"

...


The day was overcast
Fitting the mood
Black suits stood in formation
While the lucky ones heaved their load.

"He was not an exceptional man

Not one of great worth
No wife, no kids, no friends.

To an outside eye it would seem as a waste
And maybe it was
But that's the nature of things to end abruptly
On a minor note"
Written by
Tyler A. Sullivan
CA Guilfoyle Oct 2019
The drape of blue, green vines

that hung and fell with beads of water perfume

of birds and flowers long since bloomed.

Chilly winds lift feathery fronds

of red and rust on autumn ponds.

A shadow of summer

where sandhill cranes have flown.

A fallow field hazy in its gold and brown

stiff blades and grain that brace the cold

Alas snowflakes

soft as feathers falling down.
Martin Dove Oct 2018
It's true that its stupid
True that I care
Its true that the world is a tragic affair
Its true that indifference (not love) is in the air
It's true that the ending is closer than we bear
It’s true that god is a lie and isn’t really there
True that no one else could ever truly care
True true true
Is the word of the day
To be your true self
(True - it’s banal)
but do you dare?
Nigdaw Jun 2019
Let us all rise for the birthing of Earth's new life
Stirrings from her womb bring forth daffodils,
To have intimate relations with buzzing bees
Stirring wooly heads from their winter cluster,
As the yellow heads Mexican wave with
A warm blustery scented breeze, birds sing with
Renewed gusto, dancing across the garden fence
Making nests, making plans 'cause they just can't
Help but feel born again, so lets have an ovation
Spring is sprung, give me more, encore, encore.
Keyan R Nov 2018
Gone like summers wind
Hot and steamy till the end
Leaves that were bright now brittle
Shaking trees caught a cold
Leaves fall so trivial

Winters blankets snuggle the ground below
The only sound of slumber I know
The worst time to get sick
The worst time to not have money
The worst time to be alone
The worst time to pretend you're funny
Melted snow covered the beautiful land; Escape

Dancing with the spring breeze on my feet
Hiding the reality that we see but don't speak
We can't comprehend the magic of change
The acceptance of seasons meld and take time
Greeted by the days grin
winter brings the flew so I sneezed a haiku
A B Faniki May 2019
It is summer season
When the wind runs about wailing
For it's carrying heat
When it is summer the heat is oppressive .  And the noise it makes seems like wailing .  Reedited  01/07/2020
If 'tis the season
To be jolly
Where are all
The lights and holly?

'Tis the season
For families to come
Together and share
Their love for the kingdom.

Instead
They ignore,
Not worship,
Adore.
12/8/14
From A Poet's Heart
Tim Emminger Oct 2017
It’s the fall season as the trees imitate life
They have weathered the storms
It’s their time to shine, leaves colorful and bright
But the winds will blow; the leaves will tumble down
Left naked in the snow until Spring comes around

Like the fall season live your life
Weather the storms
Then shine colorful and bright
You peak, the winds blow, and you tumble down
Then like a Phoenix you rise from the ashes for another round

It’s the fall season
Beauty someone will see
Like the trees and the leaves
Show the world how beautiful you can be
TD Oct 2019
along the tops of trees
memories loop
skipping records and stones
time framed in colored tones

leafing through the skies
irises are eyes
in techni—-famed
and petals untamed

wincing in the stark
where nightingales
sighed their last
their audience aghast

as they drip their demise
from teary heights—a prize
awaits in nepotistic fashion

autumn embraces the sun
and cold, the passion
Some trickling thoughts I had this eve....
Ainnoot Mar 2019
----------------------------------------------------
Your episodes are seasonal
Yet here I am with you
Can’t you see
you’re my favorite show?
You always make a scene  
and give me every reason to go

Your life became a movie
and I was never given a role.
I was hooked since our pilot
Ironic how we’re crashing
You silenced my words
because I questioned your actions

I know you’re happy but
Look at me and this melancholy
These series of events
led to our finale.
--------------------------
I channeled these feelings for you
but lost them as quick as I do the remote.
Ayesha Sep 2018
"Some people come into your life for a season, a reason and a lifetime.

Some people come into your life for a season. It's exciting, it's enthralling, it's incredible but that season has to move on, that season has a next phase, that season has an end point. Some people don't care for you when you're alone, they just care when they alone.

Some people come into your life for a reason. To help you learn, to help you grow, to help support you through your most difficult times.

Never forget the person who was there for you when no one else was. When they had every reason to not be there. When they could have used any excuse to not be in your life, they chose to be there right next to you - they may be there to help you physically, emotionally or spiritually, they almost feel like they've been sent.

And then you have people that are there for a lifetime. They were sometimes hidden in the cracks. They were sometimes not even recognised but they stood there by your side. These were the people that you often forgot, these are the people you often missed, these were the people who were busy loving you even when you were giving nothing to them.

Ask yourself, who in your life has played this role? Who in your life has been there for a lifetime? How can you show them that they matter to you? How can you reach out to them to make sure you know that they care. Ask yourself, who has been there in your worst times? Who has been there when no one else has?

Often we feel we care more about people than they care for us.. Truth is we're just looking at the wrong people. "
Written by - Jay Shetty
#season #reason #lifetime
Esmena Valdés Oct 2018
A blank box.
The antistrophe of the only thought of your dwelling repeats.
Your riveted eyes
like silkscreens of my harsh summers continue to penetrate me,
they are imprinted to my seemingly abandoned, seemingly rotten consciousness.
I saw you reach the ledge
and then jump into the sea.
The sea sounds beautiful and is beautiful but also: The Sea

Down there your coastal effects
lay within the wave that pacifies
two legged sharks,
and the waters swallowed you
with voracious hunger.

Everything became withered,
the death cart arrived.
It came to take you to the great party of the longest night.
The beasts followed their pulse leading your way
to the black sun's of cosmo
giving way to perpetuity.

A blank box.
The antistrophe of the only thought of your dwelling repeats.
Only the sea witnessed you flight
and now you are The Sea.
Jade Charlotte Nov 2018
Encompassed by oak and pine
A heron nestles in a valley of red
She cranks her neck to peer through a diamond frame
The image of the valley below is a kaleidoscope of autumn;
Murky waters,
Dry grass,
A still mountain with snow sliding down its shoulders.
Squirrels with cheeks stuffed full of nuts scurry in a frenzy
The sky is a cold heavy
Ice and bricks
The people are wrapped in fishnets and wool scarves
Candles are lit for the death of long days
Night hugs us tightly with warm hands
The moon
She hums and howls
The trees rumble in the night
You are awakened by a crackle and thump
The pine and oaks have lost limbs to the seasonal wind
Goodnight,
Bears of summertime.
Carlo C Gomez Oct 2019
Summer fall winter spring
We used to wonder
What each of you would bring
Now we're afraid to ask
Since global warming proved a real thing
Vanessa Gatley Dec 2018
Deck the Halls
Howl
Away
Loud
Lord
Smoothly
With me
Under mistletoe
Sweet kiss
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