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Stephen E Yocum Jul 2018
Spring is the awaited child,
seeds to plant, plans to explore,
conjuring promise and renewal,
That awakens our soul.

Summer inspires with long
sunny days basking in the
embrace of green crops growing,
relief from heat under leafy trees,
leisurely nights of clean skies,
bright stars on high to infinity.

Fall comes as a warning beacon,
days of long shadows,
cool nights with chill breeze,
bedecked trees
in reds and yellow.
The report of hunters guns
from the depths of the forest.

Winter's a prelude to gloom,
short days, low sun when it
appears, wind-chills that burn.
Snow to shovel, ice to befuddle.
Conjuring envy and impatience
for the return of Spring.

So the seasons flow
one into another,
while every year lived
the cycles grow shorter,
with no guarantees of
how many more may follow.
sophia Jun 2017
it wasn’t chaotic.
it was calm and serene,
like the ocean.
the soft pitter patter
of the rain on the roof,
and the cool air it brought.
it was a sip
of freshly brewed coffee,
natural with no additives,
whatsoever.
the gut feeling
of knowing where home was.
and that is how
you came into my life.


the star that shines the brightest
amongst the pitch black sky.
it’s the white cloud that outshines
all the gray and gloomy ones.
the perfect fit of the last piece
to the unfinished puzzle.
it's the warm, fuzzy feeling
of getting into bed
early on a Friday night.
and that is how it was
when I started loving you.


it’s like a deeply cut wound,
one that’s inundating
with crimson colored blood,
having a tinge of maroon.
it induces pain
with every inbreathe
and exhalation.
it manages to have
the appearance of a scar,
yet it still feels so fresh
like a bruise.
and that is how it felt
when you left.


it was filled with haze
and suffocation.
the uncontrollable fast paced beat
of your heart.
Mona Lisa's enigmatic smile,
one that is hardly understood
by majority of the world.
a bite of dark chocolate,
bitter and sweet.
and this is my survival.
stuck in the third season,
but i'll make it to the fourth
John Niederbuhl Aug 2017
Crickets that chirp all day and all night
Looking for love in their season
Overgrown fields rife with golden rod
The same as they are every year
Earlier sunsets we notice at mid-month
(Wonder where the summer went)
Cool mornings with fog
Still air with familiar scents
Bats from behind shutters
Pursue their flights at dusk
(If only we could fly with them)
Apples fall from trees, soft, little thuds,
Remind us of other late summers, and of gravity
Migrating birds eat honeysuckle berries
While a monarch spreads her wings
On white phlox
If I could tell you,
every thing you want to know,
I would,
but my walls are to hard to take down,
but every time,
you speak to me,
they crumble to the ground,
and i hope, you'll be by my side,
when death succumbs to me...
beautiful boy who cares,
you sing a song that only I can hear,
I cant get enough of you,
the happy little messages you send to me,
i cant explain,
you aren't like other boys.
oh, beautiful boy,
I've never felt this way before!
all the other girls and  boys I've been with,
i never truly love this hard,
you understand my darkness,
you under stand my deadly thoughts,
Oh walk through the strawberry fields with me,

saying nothing is real,
walking on starlight and dancing in moon dust,
your  hair capturing the shine of the night,
i want to give you the universe,
and hold your hand,
falling through the sun by your side,
capturing the light of your eyes,
picture yourself,
falling through time,
what thoughts will flow through your mind?
your hands held in mine,
in synchronized meditation,
open up your third eye,
were your atoms next to mine?
did our souls entwine?
picture yourself,
laying in a field of grass,
with your head next to mine,
watching the butterflies glide,

the seasons are changing,
are you still next to me?
with the leaves off the trees,
this isn't electric,
this is calm,
with explosive colors,
i'm not falling,
i'm walking,
i'm willingly going to you...
are you walking to me?
do you picture it too?
a strange song / poem i wrote
just my emotions i feel
Autumn Apr 2016
In the Winter
we were friends,
but we weren't that close

In the Spring
we were best friends
that were torn apart
by your relationship

In the Summer
we were closer than ever
unofficial lovers
the best of friends

In the Fall
still best friends
but you're going out places
with other people
and I wonder
where we'll be
when it's Winter again
Sofia Paderes Feb 2015
Summer, Day 1.
Do you know how much I love you?
One day you will.
One day you will.
I haven't even seen you yet,
but I am so in love with you.

When the time comes for us to finally be together, I will drive us somewhere outside this concrete jungle to ask you that. Then I will tell you to look at the stars, and you will try to count them, even if you already know that not enough stars were created to compare it to.

Darling, I dance and I sing and I shake in delight at the thought of being with you. I'm a morning person now, because I know that every waking moment is one day closer to forever.

Summer, Day 2.
I have sworn to save every part of this heart for you. I've loved before, but not like this. Not like this. My stone-heart now made flesh beats as if I'd just been born, as if I'd been made to love and to be loved by you.

Summer, Day 3.
I can't believe you chose me. I can't believe I'm going to get to marry you. We've got quite a long way to go, but I'm already preparing, making sure my dress will be as white as snow, every hair in place, this heart pure and this body untouched until the day I put my hand in yours. I can't wait to see your face when I walk down the aisle. I promise to be the perfect bride, your perfect bride.

Fall, Day 1.
I might not write as much as I did during the summer. Life has been getting busier and busier, but I want you to know that I still love you as much as I did from the first day.

Fall, Day 46.
I've been spending quite a bit of time with someone. He's clever and says the most interesting things. I feel like we will never run out of words to say to one another. We talk everyday, and the funny thing is sometimes I feel my day isn't complete yet if we haven't spoken. Don't worry, my heart is still yours. Just thought I'd let you know.

Fall, Day 52.
I think I love him, but just a little bit. I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to cut an inch off of my heart to give to him. It's just an inch less. Surely you won't mind.

Fall, Day 80.
He's been with someone else this entire time. It's a good thing I gave him only an inch of my heart, but the rest is bruised. Don't worry, darling, I'll have it fixed in time.

Fall, Day 100.
It's still beating, but barely. Maybe I should love a little again. Maybe some warmth will do this heart good.

Winter, Day 15.
I think... I gave a little too much.

Winter, Day 50.
My latest disaster said my heart was something worth waiting for. Apparently his second hands tick faster than the usual. He left, taking more than I expected he would.

Winter, Day 65.
Is a heart supposed to look like this?

Winter, Day 90.
I can no longer hear it beating steadily. Some parts have frozen. I have tried to stitch pieces back together and they hold... if you would call it that. There are scars and cuts that haven't healed, swollen bits from the wounds that were infected because I tried to save the poison only to have it lash out and bite me in the back.

Winter, Day 104.
What have I done?

Winter, Day 135.
Look at it. No wait, don't. There isn't anything left to give you, anything worthy enough to even stand in your shadow. I promised you everything now I give you nothing. You waited for me yet I pursued others, consumed by my lust and my pride, where can I hide that I myself will not see this mess of a heart I've created? Where can I run to that I will not have to see the look on your face when you see what I have left to give you? Do you still want this, this broken vessel, this torn up heart, all the pieces that don't fit, all the stitched up parts? Do you still want me?

Spring, Day 1.
You do.

Spring, Day 3.
You do because you knew what you were getting yourself into long before you met me, you knew I would break your heart yet you still asked for mine, you do because you are love itself. A death defeating, grave shaking, forgiving, full of grace and mercy, life and righteousness kind of love. This is the love that chose me. Now I choose you.

Spring, Day 5.
What have I done to deserve this? As far as the east is from the west, so you have cleared my offense. When others asked for me, they knelt on one knee but you asked nailed to a tree. Now here you are. Despite what I've done you want me to return to you, want me to still have you. And you know what?

Spring, Day 7.
I do. And I give my heart to you in absolute surrender and total abandon. Here, though broken and torn, take it and make it new.
It was yours all along. I was yours all along.
A piece written for Logos' Vessel under Fringe Manila.
Christina Oct 2018
i met you
as the leaves fell
and the sky turned grey

the world grew cold
as my heart turned warm

i missed you
as the leaves grew back
and the sky turned blue

the world grew warm
as my heart turned cold
Josh Apr 4
You were born near the warm ocean,
grew up around there,
With your clear acrylic smile
and sun-kissed blonde hair

I, the winter cold
More north than I can remember,
We met that day you visited,
a brisk chill, that December

We drank and danced,
while the years passed over
Argued and grew apart,
our greatest fears, now sober

My memories of you, once treasured
Now, faded
as sun deprived lands complain,
Forever, jaded
Jeff Gaines Mar 2018
Hello everyone,

  I'm so very sorry … I feel horrible doing this, but I have no choice. You see, I have published my first book on Amazon/Kindle! This piece (and many others) had to be taken down because they do not allow published material to be available online for free. (Go figure) I wanted to leave the shell of the posts because I felt compelled to leave all your helpful and loving comments. (Silly sentimental, I know), but I also didn't want to just have the pieces disappear without an explanation. I feel bad enough as it is!

  I owe ALL of you so, SO much for all of your reads, love, and support. It was YOU that gave me the gumption to FINALLY get off my **** and publish! Thank you all for the warm comments, camaraderie, and encouragement! I will still be here, reading, uploading and just being the Rascal that I am. How could I EVER leave you guys?

  The book is called “The Way I See It – FictionPhilosophySoul Food” and it will be FREE for the first few days on Kindle Select, so watch for it, if you are interested. I hope that you go and grab it. If you do, I would also hope that you find it worthy, you would leave me a good review. That will help me get in the public eye! Soon afterward (2-3 days or so), it will be available in paperback.

Find the book(s) here: www.amazon.com/author/jeff.gaines

Or find the book(s), and all about me, here: www.JeffGaines.world

  Soon after, I also hope to have my first novel (a supernatural thriller), called “Wanderer” available as well!

  Wish me luck!
Big, Biggest Love,
        Jeff Gaines
A bit of a cryptic/metaphorical piece.
It is about the things I've seen during winter.
But I've taken those elements and scenes and metaphorically turned them into elements of myself and my life ...
My accomplishments and experiences, my inner self, my friends and family, even my heart ... and how I can still be strong and even content as I enter this time ... still finding beauty in it all.
But, it is also about me facing the winter of my life.
Mark Grover Nov 2017
bare, bud, green, going
winter claims the land
with a skeleton hand of bare trees
writing its stark song upon
the white white snow
in shadows
long, thin, black, and sharp

bud, green, going, bare
the spring sends small green spies
to see if the earth is ready
ready to try again
to shake the sleep of winter
from the hopeful eyes of spring

green, going, bare, bud
summer crowds the world with green
filling in all the spaces
full of life
and bustle
overflowing with the thoughts of eternity

going, bare, bud, green
the leaves are a kaleidoscopic scream of color
the land rages with its dying
showing all what will be missed
the last bright light of beauty before the
long white sleep
A rough rough draft.  Feedback welcome.
Jesse stillwater Sep 2018
The belated summer sky is alive
with a  D r a g o n f l y ballet

Beneath,.. the rain parched sod
lay sullied, cracked open
by an unsated thirstiness
awaiting the painted autumn days
and the cleansing rain's renewal

A lace-winged hatch rises skyward
— meandering  airborne —
drifting upwards like a burst of dust
dissipating in an invisible cloud
of eventide's silent breath

Darting shadows hover
above a seeker's curiosity
    just this side the  
softening sunset backdrop

A synthesis of fluid motion
  – darting kinesis –
    swift agile fliers
steal away over the thirsty pond;
their mesmerizing beauty enchants
as the dimming dusk falls silent —-
embellishing the unrelenting ending
   another summer's
 imminent curtain call;

reminding how inexorable-time
is only a contrived human notion,
a recurring extrapolation
  of passing  seasons

Heightening awareness:
how we too are only
passing through these
unholdable moments
   coming to know
    we cannot stop
   how life unfolds

The raindrops will quench
the pond's aching thirst
again one fall someday...

  — hereafter —
there will be another
beauty of dragonflies
some other eyes will see
preying on another burgeoning
gossamer-winged hatch

          and
another beckoning autumn
when the dragonflies hover
below the gazing totems
     in the treetops


Jesse Stillwater ... September 2018                                                 .
Notes: Dragonflies can fly at 100 body-lengths per second, and three lengths per second backwards.[20] Wiki   Fossils of very large dragonfly ancestors in the Protodonata are found from 325 million years ago (Mya) in Upper Carboniferous rocks; these had wingspans up to about 750 mm (30 in). There are about 3000 extant species.

Unholdable moments touched out here adrift —

Thanks for reading !
Eve Apr 2018
Your eyes changed
just like the seasons
In the springtime
Your eyes were happy
Bouncing with curiosity
tracing my face
with innocent wonder.
As warm gusts of wind
thawed our frozen hearts
Beautiful buds of premature flowers
anxious to blossom
rooted deep into our souls
as spring showers nourished the hope
that something fresh would soon sprout
The excitement of new beginnings
quickly appeared

Summer came in the blink of an eye
a comforting warmth
enveloping us in a heated passion
familiarity cascaded over us
as we grew closer
spending every moment together
hand in hand
eyes warm and peaceful
endless clear skies
softly yearning for my touch
your stare was carefree
brighter than the summer sun
nothing else mattered
As summer faded,
a chilly breeze delicately brushed
our innocent faces
an unsuspected warning
of what we would become

Fall entered our lives
an uninvited visitor
changing everything
Your eyes changed their color
as life drains from fall leaves
the beautiful love
that once danced
in those deep brown eyes
soon faded
into dull emptiness
your love fell apart like the trees
becoming barren and empty
unrecognizable
Once full and beautiful
only fragile branches remain
skeletons of past beauty
a constant reminder
of what we had lost
your branches finally broke
out from under me
I guess I was just too hard to hold
yet somehow so easy to let go
and just like that, you were gone

As fall turned to winter
a cruel frost
swallowed the earth
mercilessly destroying
everything beautiful
that desperately tried to survive
My world lost it’s color
every sky turned to grey
your silence was colder
than any winter I’ve ever known
The bitter day I saw you
on that crowded street
your unexpected return
tying knots in my stomach
I didn’t know you were back
our eyes met
for a brief moment
immediately my heart sank
unprepared for the brokenness
I suddenly faced
Your icy stare
stirred a blizzard in my heart
swallowing it whole
destroying the smallest hope
that kept it alive
your cruel winter eyes broke me
They encompassed my soul
in a bitter ice
an everlasting winter
that will never meet springtime again.
Jesse stillwater Apr 2018
The midnight sun is heading north

These bags are packed with dreams
and the memories of who I’ve been;
To scatter forth like gathered seeds
on fallow hope,
strewn at the mercy of the winds

The genesis of spring unravels
the knotted darkness
Another winter’s aftermath
hidden back on the back shelf
The distance between back then
and now,  is widening
each  Dawn  to  Dusk

A  gust  of  sunlight
plashes ripples
across the still waters
of  depthless  peace

and,
my hands are no longer tied
behind  my  back
by winter's grasp

Seasons  oft  do  change
perennial  as  the  tides

But I don’t want to see
another ocean runaway;
I don’t want to know how
another fleeting moment
ends


Jesse Stillwater
7th  April  2018
Puds Apr 25
Note The Behaviour Of The
Seasons And Their Seams
As They Mimic And Perform
In Each Others Scenes
As They Slip In A Whisper
Or Maybe They Mime
In Search Of A Moment
To Extend Their Time
I’ve been watching the seasons change
from this lonely little bus stop shelter.
Waiting in limbo,
as the leaves turn from an animated green,
to the frost bitten crunch
of once was.
The landscapes danced dynamically before.
Trees swayed blissfully
over the vibrantly brushstroked canvas;
yet now they stand still.
Motionless.
Paralysed, like a Polaroid picture.
But in this time of waiting;
my momentary detention of movement;
a suspension of my heart’s desires.
I’ve observed as the scenery
turns to the deceased.
The dead.
The diminished.
And returns back
to the living
as it always does
and always will
eventually.
Just as seasons change, so will how we feel.
ns Feb 2017
The waves brush my toes
   to keep me away from the water
The sand tickles my feet,
   as the sun falls into deep slumber
The tress groan as its branches and the wind
   twirl around each other
All of these happened
   as I walk on a beach in a boring afternoon in summer.

The children's feet dropped to a beat
   as they stomped through the leaves on the ground,
The trees let the wind blow their leaves off
   as they turn from green to brown
The night grow longer and colder
   as the moon calls for winter to come
All of these happened
   in a peaceful day in autumn.

The Christmas lights blinked
   as merrily as the dancing of the icy cold winds
As the sun shies away from the ice covered towns,
   the moon grinned
The snow angels sand beautiful songs,
   as the lakes and rivers sparkle in glitter,
All of these happened
   in a white chilly winter.

The leaves start to grow back
   as the trees hummed to a sweet song to the hills,
As the sun cheers and smiles brightly,
   the blue sky remained still
The people greet each other on the pavements,
   as the new bird harmoniously sings
All of these happened
   in a calm and happy morning in spring.


ns
This calendar charters momentum
adherent to the four seasons
of Earth and its humans:
Empathos/Psychedelia/Entactus/Absurdia.

Born so serotonergic:
The Vernal Equinox;
Feel the spring empathy
and the fresh aer movement.

Glutamatergic apex:
The Estival Solstice;
Azure haze of summer vibrancy,
Touch the bright side of it.

Fade to dopaminergic:
The Autumnal Equinox;
Lost in the arms of fall liberty,
Feeling the reach.

GABAminergic in depth:
The Hibernal Solstice;
Rainy daze in winter ecstasy,
There's water on the moon.

This Entheogenic Calendar,
That Apotheosized Existence;
And The Other.
Entheogenesis is Empyreal, Apotheotelos is Ecliptic:
In that sentient spectrum determination is given,
Reflections are drawn from this conscious continuum.
Derek Wings Feb 2015
Purer than the whitest Winter snow
As many flowers as Spring can bring
You bring more life to my soul
Your heart is warmer
Than the best of Summer nights
And you'r more beautiful
Than all the colors of Autumn
And just like those leaves
More and more each year
I Fall for you
Every passing season
kellie scranton May 2017
Even when the ink started to run
You helped me find the meaning in the verse
Your cologne smelled like September
And I knew even if we both got lost out there
The sun would still rise and set
I took a lesson from the darkness
I never scorch my tongue on hot coffee anymore
I read the words I used to ignore
Pagan Paul Feb 10
.
Do you remember when time stood still
skipping naked, happy, upon Spring Hill?
Warm westerlies, do rebirth dominate,
brushing the flowers, each one to pollinate.

Do you remember when time stood still
running naked, joyful, upon Summer Hill?
Hot south wind, sun growth it gifts,
providing life, as Nature's head it lifts.

Do you remember when time stood still
walking naked, tired, upon Autumn Hill?
Cool easterlies, the harvest to reap,
just preparing, waiting, for the annual sleep.

Do you remember when time stood still
laying naked, spent, upon Winter Hill?
Chill north wind, the snows to bring,
patient listening, to the universe sing.

Do you remember when time stood still
exposed and naked upon Season's Hill?
No rain, no sun, no wind nor breeze,
could disturb the silence of the Trees.





© Pagan Paul (2019)
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