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Cress Rosario Dec 2016
She loves to sing when no one can hear
She sings, “Hello!” to the sunshine
She lights up the stars of night sky

She sings when garden blooms
She hums when sorrow looms
She sings her pain away
She sings her love today
Nico Julleza Jul 2017
∙∙∙◦◦•◎•◦◦∙∙∙
A little bit of summer
a little bit of breeze
in the days of warmer
love has so much-
to bring, come let us sing

A little bit of freesia
a little bit of lilac
never can resist a scent
-of Ms. Narine
Ogles, a morning scene

A little bit of sunshine
a little bit of eventide
caress upon the shores
-of such imagery,
passions of immortality

A little bit of cosmos
a little bit of crocus
in a glebe-like galaxy
stars white as daphne
from a garden of syzygy

A little bit of cerulean
a little bit of vermilion
shimmers the lucid lake
with trout's and doves
Golly! autumn is awake

A little bit of plowing
a little bit of sow
the hard workers of
-those pumpkins
reaps a stewful of zin

A little bit of snow
a little bit of flail
fly away as butterflies
hibernate as snails
Forging! a winters gale

A little bit of details
a little bit of trail
from dew drops of-
a frozen rose, icicles on
a drowsy bear’s nose

A little bit of sleeping
a little bit of wait
till the sun comes up  
gray clouds strew away
spring is here to stay

A little bit of sprout
a little bit of grow
And can it be, on thee
an Epiphany shows
the Lords glorious prose
#sing #flowers #seasons #nature #God #colors

Thank-you soo much for all the great poet who red, liked, and commented on this poem.

Don't you just sigh when Seasons Sing...?

(NCJ)POETRYProductions. ©2017
Knit Personality Aug 2018
Solemn sweet pipes of de o'gan
     Heaven's music I've hyeahd play,
But I'll tell you somefin' truly
     Certain ez is Judgement Day:
Angels present at de service
     Ev'ry Sunday fo'd dey wings,
Fo'd dey wings an' listen quiet
     When Malindy sings.  

#
WR III Apr 16
I watch as she sings.
Her sound so beautiful.

She becomes lost within the song,
And dances with her memories.

Her voice, their song.  
The song they sang together.

A beat my heart will never forget,
and a dance she will cherish forever.

I see joy in her eyes,
She remains blind to the pain in mine.

A song that cuts so deep.
The hurt it brings she must never know.

I watch as she sings.
Her sound so beautiful.
PoserPersona Jun 2018
I.
The moon sings the languid flower,
  to bloom at midnight hour
Harmonious feast transpires -
  luminescent choir

Petals mirror la hue de Luna,
  but pale below her glow
Though the desert sweet aroma,
  is fragrance plus photo

Neither causing nightly failure,
  in idyllic charm
In fact, those powers are greater,
  together than apart

II.
The moon a long gone distant rock,
  yet pulls on ocean tops
Cereus lures with sweetest tricks,
  and stings with countless licks  

Battered holy asteroid face,
 woos flawless solar gaze
And even though it causes mire,
  lunar eclipses fire

The cactus thrives in driest sands,
  and chokes in fertile lands
Alluring lonesome wanderers,
  promising mere water

The lucid beauty bewilders,
  as much as it can haunt
In fact, those powers are greater,
  together than apart

III.
You, once my cereus and moon,
  were drowned in my love well
Perhaps, I was this to you too,
  though your hole I’d not delve

However, what was first velvet,
  morphed into devil’s horns
Winter shed those thorns in my chest,
  now spring gifts hope and more

The icy grips of each winter,
  provides spring fuel to spark
In fact, those powers are greater,
  together than apart

IV.
Although we've gone on our own ways,
  I wouldn’t change the past
For each step was necessary,
  to find true love at last

We were once greater together.


I’m now greater apart.
Oh, my soul sings a song
of love for you.
Oh, from the center of my being it rises.
Every fiber in my being
calls your name.
Oh, it calls
for your precious love.
Oh, the only love
that can ever save my life.
For I know
that without you
I shall surely die.
Oh, for your love
is the food of my soul.
Oh, sometimes that song is a song of woe
And oh, sometimes that song is a song of joy.
I know the power
you hold over my heart.
Oh, for without your precious love
I will surely die
And all the world would die with me.
Oh, how you could make me weep
an ocean of tears
and give birth to all my fears
that I am nothing
in your eyes.
Oh,  but in your loving embrace
all the world
again returns to life
and all  creation
glows with the love of God.
Oh, how you cast
your hypnotic spell
upon my heart
and my life I would give
before I would ever lose you
my sweet loving angel.
Oh, how you make a difference.
Such a difference to my soul.
And I am changed forever
because of you.
Oh, within me that song
shall ever remain
deep within me
to give life to my soul.
Oh, and it shall forever remain
in my heart
till the sun sits on the last day.
Shofi Ahmed Apr 2017
Just a dew drop, let alone the sea,
and a handful of earth, not the Planet Ge.
Not a shade of blue, save the rose for bee
Purely a clear drop didn’t spill in the core,
because the whole sphere feels the pinch.

Singing chorus rains down, bouncing back
to earth the only open-through planet.
No black hole is as deep as the sun jumps,
dives in the dew on every flower they wet.
Every bird in the trees sings and tweets,
yet one is stone quiet, shouldn’t even hiss.
Shh! shh, the sleeping beauty is sleeping!

Cut above the rest, the unique earth
brimming with the infinite finishing line
by design pans out to the transcended pi.
Pure spring, the waterfront by the Moon,
untouched, unspoiled is her swimming pool.

How she goes by, wetting her ****** toe
Only to bubble high up the transcended circle
If only the sun could rise high in that pole,
for the rest of species could sneak a peek.
She’s there with the capstone of the pyramid!

Shots beyond the fixed circle, netting the eyeballs.
The stars, the Moon on the move for pure freedom.
The thrilled earth did come out, smelling of roses
Off the golden cut pi-decimal-abyss digital spring.
With a handful of earth and a drop of water dew
This is a pure mirroring thanks to the original, you!

At the end of the string apt you lovely took her by hand
and she took it in emptying her heart and soul.
Earth is now too thin on stock, she is no more
Just a shadow, a 360-degree hollow flute!
Oh light at the end of the tunnel shine and show
Play in like in the Night of Ascension once more!
This is a poem from my book Zero and One available on Amazon.
GreenTrees May 2018
The more I see, the more I adore.

The more I search, the more keenly I know what I'm looking for.

The more I miss you, the more time I find myself waiting for you to walk through the door.

The more I hear your voice the more I pray for an encore.

An though you've left this earth to be in heaven, you remind us that

The more I love you, I love you more.
ryn Jan 2015
.
A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It's the tears that trickle with radiance through words.
     It's a treasure trove that hides but longs to
     be found.
          It's a book shelved high that wants to
          be read.
               It's the freest of all birds caged but
               unbound...

A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It doesn't beat to the capable strokes of the artist.
     It doesn't pump in the most vibrant of
     colours.
          It doesn't wield a paintbrush to
          translate its thoughts.
               But it can see through the eyes of
               painters...

A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It doesn't conform to the conventional parameters of lyrics.
     It doesn't bind itself to the requirements
     of musical harmony.
          It doesn't follow the conventions of
          genres.
               But it sings its voice loud without
               restrictions of melody...

A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It's an open secret, that whispers in metaphoric codes.
     It's an exploding universe, that merges
     back into galaxies.
          It's a sought after painting, that boasts
          of unfathomable beauty.
               It's an everlasting song, that echoes
               within the poet that embodies...
.
Dedicated to all of you...

If you're reading this...
This is for you...
.
Jordan Rowan Dec 2015
Blind Willie Johnson strums six strings a day
He drinks with the woman who taught him to play
He spells out his secrets in the songs that he sings
And breathes his life onto six rusty strings
Blind Willie Johnson brings home the blues
Blind Willie Johnson will wail the blues to you

The brothel he grew up in is tearing down the walls
He's got so many memories of those smokey halls
His mama could be there or she could be dead
He's got no pictures, just anecdotes instead
Blind Willie Johnson said he don't know a thing
Except for the truth in the blues that he sings

Blind Willie Johnson ain't really blind at all
He's just got those gray eyes from years of alcohol
He stares into the smoke of a Friday night crowd
Who stare back at him as his stories ring out
Blind Willie Johnson doesn't cover up a thing
Listen to his pain in the blues that he sings

"Blind Willie Johnson" reads the graveyard stone
Under the blanket of the sky, Willie rests alone
Though his voice is lost underneath the ground
The world will never forget Blind Willie's sound
Blind Willie Johnson sang the way he felt
He never complained about the hand he was dealt
A M Ryder Aug 2018
You should know that I often fall in love with girls I play board games with.
Really, it's nothing personal.
It's just that when I get competitive, sometimes I get romantic
Someone once told me that they can't love someone until they've witnessed their worst, and I think you should know that I'm not my worst self anymore.
Breaking down isn't realness.
So for all that self awareness..
I am more of a coward
than I am a king
And I will fill my time with more ordinary things
Because I can barely stand the way all these feelings within me sing
SøułSurvivør Sep 2015
---

i

blue grey clouds
of crushed
velvet

sunlight
tears
the
seams


ii

embers of
delicate peach
ignite flames
of fuchsia

the orb of
sun burns colors
away to ashes

blown into floes
of white
mare's
tails


iii

tiny bird
settles restless
on the
highest
branch

flits
away


iv

wind
through
the weathered stones
cries then whispers

luring
the children
who lie within our ribs
to break free
and sing
songs
of
play


v

mamalaria
cactus
wears her
wreath
of
pale
lavender
flowers

sings to
her babes
clustered
below

saguaro
listens



soulsurvivor
(C) 9/13/2015
beautiful day rises up
out of the ashes
of a flaming
sunrise

---

To a special friend...
... thank you!
CK Baker Mar 2017
lady craighead played the blues
on a stand-up samick
in the ***** room
along side the parsons project
and squabbling dogs
and night moves

stairs creek
up the mezzanine trek
wool sheets slide
on finished floors
little angels
play late into the seventh
(a closing match nearing
the midnight hour)

croaking toads and cicada
sing in the blue moon
musty smells and mothballs
settle deep in the vault
the kettle boils
and cat coils
as the pump house rolls
its heavy drawl

the red phone rings
and bird clock sings
(behind the ruddy stall)
a sleeman variation of the ruy lopez
employed heartily
by the incomparable master jack
marble toast burning
wringer wash churning
chris craft running
near the old carp canoe

rooster calls
and west wind squalls
rustle through the porch screen door
chicken *** pies
and rogue flies linger
a rocker chair placed
near the  sepia face
(softened by the intricate frame)

donkey in tow
(with a fastened ***)
maggie in her dreams
of green tambourines
the nocturnes
reflections
and whispering gospel bells

tractors pull on
the grinder stone
horses lay still
in the mid-day sun
a trump card is fingered
at the furnace click
(crosswords and puzzles are next!)
while the sparrow
and that **** rabid fox
are drowning
deep in castles well
Aaron Combs Dec 2016
My beloved, tonight it is more than perfect, the zephyr winds sing
sweetly your name and the crystal stars shine like your earrings.
As the White Mountains glint gracefully, and the wind speaks
over our fingers, upon our balcony, let’s dance, my beloved.

Now over the thousand streams and star crystals in the air,
You can see our prayers fill up the milky rivers in the sky.
Below the lights of Christmas, before the blue rivers of stars,
let’s dance like the shadows and the circles of the moonlight.

Now dreams rise over like the wind and shine so easily
But time falls quickly, and worries fall away so slowly.
So let the rage of your fears dance around and under your legs.
For the world is falling asleep, calling for the colors of their dreams.

So let the tresses of your hair fall freely,
And the wind of your perfume
Soak up the flames of your heart.
Spinning like the starlight, tasting every feeling,
Let the steel blue sky and its stars fall all around you.

Dance wildly, my beloved, let's dance like the songbird who sings,
let’s dance forever, until we wash into the skyline of our dreams.
A Daily Poem
Fallen Nov 2018
Just because the frost needs time to thaw
Before the flowers can really grow
Just because the clouds need time to gather
Before cold winds turn to snow
Just because our hearts and our minds often fight
Just because we have to give them time to understand each other
Just because our hearts seem to be eons ahead
of our doubting, dismissive minds
It does not mean we never know
What we truly want

We just have to give ourselves time.

The amazing graces sung by grizzled sailors
As they sailed human cargo from the delirious African coast
To the throes of the Western Empire.
And these grizzled sailors
the odd lonely ducks
Seeking self validation from their lofty superiors
Set sail to embark on a crime against humanity
For a living

And in the end, your Sunday School favorite
Amazing Grace
how sweet the sound!
It is perhaps the single most church song
That doesn’t make you feel guilty or fake happy
It’s simply a song that unabashedly feels

I know what I want
I just have to give myself time
Which is a concept I hardly believe in anymore
Time

I am aware that I can be a fierce wind
Capable of tearing down everything
In a tumultuous bluster of love
But also feverish madness
Manic, sure, but also a wonderful spontaneity
If something feels truly sublime then how can it be wrong?

I am also capable of gentle breezes
Like the soft airy kisses of a whispering night wind
I am wind that can make your arm hairs tickle
I am wind that can gush and chill you to the bone
As I try to envelop you in a nurturing embrace

And if my tender gushing alarms you then please forgive me
For with every fire you ever built you have lit a fire in me
So suddenly I was frightened
At first that looking at you made me melt and burn
To ashes my heart was scattering and falling apart
What a frightening thought!
Unlike a moth I first shied away from your brilliance
And so from a delicate but deeply loving distance
Your presence warmed my chilly gusts
And as your flames gently licked the wind that grew stronger
So too my wild and wonderful breezes hungered for more warmth

Watch the fire deeply
See how the flames massage the air
Look above the fire and see that the air is falling apart
Its molecules expanding and undulating in the warmth
Heat is a beautiful thing
but intense
So is a strong wind

As you so warmed me so I longed to be nurturing
To fan your fire with my most spectacular torrent
A few things might have burned down
Like the walls we built over the decades
Walls of paper tigers guarding our souls
Well the wildfire we built together burnt those walls rightly down
Let’s admire the ruins of the false lives we’ve lived in the past
To protect the God residing within us
from the realm of the material world

Grace teaches our hearts to fear
And by grace our fears are overcome
Through faith I exist
Through hope I keep existing
But it is through love that I understand why
Val Graz Jul 2018
Mommy I'm sorry I manipulate you for,
The alcohol I feel I love more,
And Daddy I'm sorry I pretend I'm naive,
About all of my bad deeds,
I tried so hard to stay dry,
But the rain it pours inside,
I'm drowning in my own self,
I'm suffocating with my mental health,
And I try, I try so hard,
To be who you care for,
The girl who laughs just cause she can,
Who asks for hugs before bed,
But I'm not her anymore,
And I'll never be moving forward,
But really I'm just someone,
Who feels way too much at once,
I cry at night when I'm all alone,
Dancing with my demons on my own,

Please don't hate me, I couldn't survive,
I do that enough for myself, and I can no longer hide,
That I don't have a problem with substances,
That I can recognize when I've had enough of them,

I'm so tired of pretending it's under control,
This feeling of alcohol that sings in my soul,
The cough syrup that makes my shaky thoughts,
Become shaky feet, legs, and hands,
I'd rather feel physically ill,
Than continue to be mentally unwell,
So I will continue to veer off the tracks,
And spin out of control, it's just a fact,
I have no sense of when to stop,
Please don't make me stop,
It's so hard to be in my own head,
Every day it's like a death,
I die a bit, a piece of me fades away,
And I'm sorry to inform you, to say,
I'm not okay, I'm just not alright,
With myself I will continue to fight,

Please don't hate me, I couldn't survive,
I do that enough for myself, and I can no longer hide,
That I don't have a problem with substances,
That I can recognize when I've had enough of them.
Shofi Ahmed Mar 2017
I was listening to a poet
reciting his poem “Times”.
He was pondering, could
it be like this and that?
Suddenly my cup of tea
happened to taste so sweet,
made me wonder why
wasn’t it such an edgy,
a while ago any time
before now just as tasty.

Where on a stony thorn
was it stuck this long?
It had to bloom just now,
so sweet a rose!  
No one predicted whether it
will rain or not, it just drops.
The sun, shedding clouds,
suddenly swims so low!

Pondering me, I could
then only digest it
accepting a truth:
It doesn’t matter when
the bees love to come out,
sit on the rose and fly.
For the time, its best bard
only sings on time!
You were
long asleep
when I was
walking into
the beer garden.

I drank long
and deep
from a plastic
cup. The highest
alcohol content
I could find.
My blood was
a choir -
hallelujah.

I thought
of you
constantly.
My blood was
a mountain.
My blood was
a red crescent,
a ruby falling.

You sober up
with a mix of
alkaseltzer
& bread.
I don't make
any efforts,
letting the
blood drift
away on its
own accord.

I'm on your
page. Fifteen
year plans
& we want
the same
things. My
blood is
singing to
you, aria
after aria.
East Wind Jan 2017
She's often in the dark, especially at night
But never has she seen a shooting star.
She sings her song every night
In hopes that one day she might.
        "I’ve never seen a shooting star.
          If I did, I would have wished
          for the wish I wish every night.
          That I wish I may I wish I might
          make a wish to see the light!"
sara Aug 2018
There's a bird caught in a cage somewhere
and she sings the sweetest song.
A natural beautiful sound;
the Man tells her she's singing it wrong.

She's singing, it's sinning;
bird, stop. She's singing,
he's spinning, then stop...
and a crack...
his mind snaps in his hands.
Some will never understand
the strength in nature's one (wo)man band.
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