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n Jan 9
But she's exposed herself.
Flesh and bone protruding out the protective bubble.
She's only just gone and dragged herself to the margins of society.
Removed from the warmth of the gooey **** she supresses a lingering shiver.
Now she resides in a ***** dimension. Present, not quite faded yet.
Now the perfectly grown princess has self-inflicted chips on her shoulders.
Addicted to self-flagulation she tries to regress back home to her former alter.
Beyond. Reach.
A stone bleeding with pleasure weighs down the remains of her birth right.
aANotes on my sheltered upbringing and how I purposly sabotaged my background and privilidged future because of the choices I made.
Nylee Sep 2018
little longer
a bit more stronger
and so much more
I hope for.
All the papers
I just tore
my dreams not
reaching their shore.
Well before,
so much better
heart sheltered
I, not deserted.
Everything I wore
all filtered
refined to core
Could go ahead with
all that
keep quiet
be that
watch and mimic
being sick
in head.
When no one sheltered me
A Man came to me,
with a thirst for life,
he wanted to be with me,
he loved my light,
but there is no way I could stay with him,
because he fears Love and I am filled with such Love I am Love itself,
the eternal love of empty being filled with peace,
he wants to possess
and I am free as the swallow's spring soaring wind,
he is stubborn as a dry branch and I am as supple as the wet willow stems in the most violent of storms,
he is fearful of death and yet lives in it.
I am alive forever as life itself.
Marked by a sweet kiss I can not forget,
indelible upon my heart which opened Heaven within me.
He lives in constant fear of life,
yet wants it,
as a man sinking to the dark depths of the ocean floor while looking for water,
but he is as ice is proud of being strong but denies the radiant sunlight of the spirit that will melt him into nothing.
Love is inevitable,
only it is an illusion to deny it,
it is waiting around every corner,
within even a dream,
meeting you as an ever-changing sky,
hills cannot conceal the sun,
it will rise over them,
and blot them out.
Water will well up and pour out,
as a sea over everything dry and barren,
rain falls down softly in the city streets
and drenches the poor
and the rich cover themselves with umbrellas,
afraid to lose when they have so much.
When no one sheltered me I became drenched with life.
-Ella May Sophia
Onoma Sep 2018


words from

the burden

of meaning.

worrying over

their slightest


sheltered elements.
Jesse stillwater May 2018

He liked to gather up the silence in the springtime
  Pack it up and carry it in an old timeworn leather rucksack
From a distance it looked like he was a senseless fool
  Picking up handfuls of nothing then putting it in an empty jar

No mind is paid to the fleeting glance in the corner of a stranger's eyes
  They were out of reach from the box he was living in
He kept gathering up the endless silence like missing pieces of a lost soul
   It seemed to be everywhere ―  and in it heard,  the only voice he knew

Supposing all his thoughts pondered come forth of silence
  Often resting sheltered beneath branches where it grew on the trees ―
It wasn't just the songbird that broke the stillness in dappled sunlight
  It was the dearth of love that rivers through a strong heartbeat’s
silenced words ...

Jesse Stillwater

04   May   2018
Thank you for reading and considering "gathering silence"
Data Apr 2017
Tell my father (if you can find him)
that I, too, have died; tell him that I am dead, and

if I say, all paths have led to this place,
to this avenue where the olives grow,

let him know that I found some comfort there,
where the cherry spread its boughs and
lemons ripened in winter sun…

So, when that final day is done, beyond any
exact hour or minute, say, I stayed on and watched

as my old sol dipped, and that old moon rose
as yellow as that fruit’s faithless amrita. O bitter,

sour is the flavour of the mortal earth,
even as the red-kissed sky paints it not,

even as the slivered moon waits
and watches for its ghosts to disinter,
yet, from the winter’s cold no spectres stir:

they have no cure for that fatal cut,
no moment to revisit the drawing night.

But, I might not surrender, old man. If I may,
let me linger here beneath the opened arms
of heaven’s gate…

And wait… as shadows shudder beneath,
imitating forms that once stood here
in the glade where the sun still shone and would

not admit to anything other than a cycle:
as though returning was as natural

as this spinning orb.

While this whetted winter draws about, without
a warm hand to guide a laden pen, let me

begin and say again, ‘Tell my father that I am dead!’
Tell him, that I cut the lemon from the tree before

it was ripe, and I ****** ******* nectar **** until
I’d drained its heart, then spat its pithy skin upon
the road. Tell him, I walked the avenue and heard
the black fruit ***** beneath my impatient tread.

Say, I made some notes along this way,
and I left them sheltered beneath the olives’ spread
where, if he has the time, he can read

and perhaps,
perpend the thoughts that I was disinclined to speak.

By­­ Data © May, 2014
Upon the suicide of my father...
With Swollen Tears did my Countrymen commit
In week's Soliloquy request for Aid
And Soul's own Moments whose Sympathy permit
Whilst Sheltered Families pray for more space
Pledge, dear Lord! And Citisens of the World
My People's Wounds soaked in Unwanted Rain
At least in Voice and Gift-Wishes unfold
Would indeed suffice to soften their Pain
Look, Union Jack! The Scenes of Caskets float,
Plastered houses a-washed with nails and wood
Then came the Bayanis, in rubbers and boats
Bore frozen Victims to their Neighbourhood.
It's a Sad Film for anyone to see
Please offer Burnt Roses; Make them Happy.
Evan Backward Aug 2013
I want to look out the window
And see bright stars
Lights, and shattered visions.
I want to see
Colors and flying discs.
People thinking, dreaming,
On the edge of discovering
Always not knowing,
Always around the corner.
The timepiece etched in diamonds
Solid, imbued with living darkness
And sheltered worlds.
Pass the time along rivers
Motion, curling smoke and ladies dancing
I want to hear bells and raindrops.
Scattered droplets of rejuvenation
And solitary gongs calling into the depths,
I crave to see the night
For what it could be.

For what it really is behind
Closed doors, and open windows
Behind every mind the desire to know
Others and people
Moving flesh and deep breaths,
Sighing into one another
Haunted by control,
Thoughts of distaste for the lack of

For I fear acceptance,
To accept a flaw,
A spiraling flood of color
A ***** in the shield of dawn.
The weeds pushing up through
Trees, skyscrapers grasping at the atmosphere.
Shadows beyond the fences
And your eyes when I've asked too much.
I want to feel the night for what it is.
Not for what it could be.
Paul Butters Nov 2015
This poem is by Norman Stevens in response to MY poem about HIM. Have made some minor changes.

In *****’s Bar on High,
Sheltered from Cleethorpes sea and sky,
Paul Butters utters words of cheer,
While quaffing his pint of *****’s beer.

He sets about his spicy meal,
Loading up for his evening’s sport,
When he’ll aim to be the real deal.

Owner Bill’s Angels prepare another stew,
To help down another “home –made” brew.

They nip outside for another “staff meeting”,
Paul says they’ve gone for a ***,
But THAT I’m not repeating.

Throughout these capers,
Norman reads his informative papers.

Sipping his Nectar Beer,
He’ll leave in good cheer.

Norman Stevens
Assisted by Paul Butters

(C) PB\NS 17\11\2015.
As I say, it's Norman's poem - was handwritten by him and embellished by me.
Matt Shade Jan 2015
Fields stretch, of paper white
And grey as day is losing light
Alone I rally muscles fight
So I be home before the night
Wind will chill me gill to gill
As ice will render muscles still
Sheltered not from cruel chill
So I will make my journey still
Long I jog, through howling clatter
Jaw wont move, unless to chatter
Hearing sweat drops frozen, shatter
Movement warms my sleepy matter
Locomotive losing speed
Juggernaut has lost the need
Lifeless muscles need to feed
Yet still i beg them, "forward heed!"
In the distance- lights are lit!
I call, but silenced in a fit
My throat is scratched by icy spit
As I collapse in snow,
that's it.
Cné Aug 2017
As our dew points match, lead me out into the open moonlight
Then take my hand and come with me to share this glorious night

Sin smiling Angels look down on us in the night's cocoon
Safely sheltered beneath his broad shoulders our bodies completely attune

Her pale skin denied The moonbeams as I eclipses them above her
Shivering to the cadence of the night with the moonlight as a ******

The cool night air hasn't chilled her warm summer lips
The stars reflected in our eyes, each shimmering thoughts a kiss

Ethereal night mist rises from our slowly moving bodies
His warmth tastes of golden light, dancing to simple melodies

Shimmering in dusk's glow the rapture subsides in a glistening shudder
Splendorous waves of euphoric flood, as we complete each other as lovers
to the tune of AC/DC "Touch Too Much"
thank you Palmer for the dance
Yue Wang Yidhna Dec 2018
We are becoming cultural germaphobes
Eliminating every potentially negative thing

We are becoming sheltered perfect roses
Under glass domes too over protecting

Monocultures and biodiversity
If we don't build our immunity

How are we to survive
How are we to fight the blight
My whisper before the silence.
Robert G Page Dec 2011

you live in a world which you don’t know
sheltered by your host’s resolve,
to keep a place of love’s warm glow
where all ‘round you revolves.

like a pedestal queen you’re held on high
in a world all of my own.
a world of warmth for you and i
and love you have never known.

this is the way this world must be,
a world of love’s perfect touch;
for reality holds another for me
whom i love and care for as much.

a woman who gave of her body and soul
and youth in good times and sad.
the one that i love yet cannot protect
when human frailties turn bad.

(yes) safe in this place of soft flowing grace
from realities out stretched hands,
never to want from life’s hectic pace
nor cry from hope’s ill-fated plans.

to my wife i give of my life
all that i humanly can.
now age and life’s strain have claimed their
fare share, leaving little with which to plan.

yet returning to you in most private of time
free from life’s flesh grinding grip.
***** and young we caress and arouse
and share in young love’s perfect trip.

my hope is you’ll read this humblest of script
for there is no more i can do;
to tell you aloud would dash our whole world
and more over mean losing you.
Napolis Oct 2018
Lost in the
deep end of
your Auburn

unable to
catch my
breath nor
wanting too.

so many
and sheltered
that move
across your
eyes mesmerize
this moment
unlike anything
else I have
ever known.

hearing your
voice next
to me
I feel
like  a
fat calico
cat with
my belly
being rubbed
over and
over to
my hearts

and the
beauty of
you is
in a
falling star,

it is
in this
moment that
rises up
to embrace

the calling
of wonder
and the
simple smile
that blesses
your face.

and in
this moment
I am
a child.

I am
a child

with you.
Dimitris Sarris May 2018
Like indolent dream washed away
by the sea's uprising
passivly yielding
into a sheltered thought
for i can't explain
this weathered plot
it feels like years since we've touched.
Maybe in another life
a better chance
maybe in another dream
with a sweeter glance
maybe my heart
with a different stance.
Another day of
gibberish grouse..
Arianna Jan 23
O dark-eyed maiden,
Thy heart beats constant and true!
Slandered by guile,
To the wooded haven you have flown,
Exiled, seeking refuge amongst the heather,
Disguised and sheltered with shepherds.
For thy love is gone away to Rome,
Thy father's kingdom arms for war,
And thou, alas, art dead to Britain, unhappy Golden Girl:
Disobedient daughter, a woman and lover disgraced.
Only as Fidele, by sufferance and false passing, shalt thou prove thy faith —
May thy Love wax the greater,
Not by Injustice be erased;
And Time shall reveal the worth of your heart, in concordance with Fate.
For my favorite Shakespeare heroine. :-)

Loreena McKennitt - "Cymbeline":
Dawnstar Jan 2018
Tepid damp and lukewarm night,
Build your camp by rivers bright;
Sable black and and somber grey,
Silt the river's arms away.

Island tenements rent for cheap,
Bakèd bricks in plinths lie deep;
Stores of merchants and their wives,
Sheltered from the thund'rous tides.

Glance on that maternal shrine,
Softly angled toward the Rhine;
See the men with flowing beards,
Seldom entertaining fears.

Moon illumes a stony pose,
Sun sustains a garden rose;
Temple pillars bathed in or,
Leave mute shadows on the floor.

Olifant horns begin to sound,
Tribesmen fall upon the town;
Riding with the northern gust,
Trampling the homes to dust.

Yet, as gateside rocks abound,
From the ashes, rises now,
Where that city met disgrace,
A mighty fortress in its place.
Now, the horns will sound no more,
In the Temple of the Ruhr.
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