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Adilson Smith Nov 2017
I would say
I love you with all my heart.

But that's not quite right.

For I love you with far much more
Than just that one part.

For instance,
I love you with my lips:
They pucker lovingly like filled balloons
Rising skyward in a knot.

I love you also
With my eyes. Like a ruly clerk,
They sieve your frame with careful affection,
Vitalized by every detail.

My ears, too, are full of love.
I can feel them during the night;
Thumping with blood
As you rise and decline
Asleep in my nook.

There are many others.
My eyebrows, so enlivened,
Agitate my face
And my toes, so excited,
Tense in my shoes
As though afraid of getting wet.

Other parts aren’t so conspicuous.
My arms plot in the dark --
They long to swim around your waist
And link us back to breast.

And my fingers, naughty things,
Scheme to tease your dress
Above your pretty knees
And above your pretty chest.

Would you believe,
Even my ****'s involved!
Though he’s more obvious
With his *****, open smile
And cheeky morning breath.

But chief of all my loving parts
Is my un-run soul
Unkenneled, at last,
Sprinting furiously
Next to yours.
# love #silly

Note -- this is very much a rewrite of Watsky's splendid and original "love poem" (worth checking out on YouTube).
Sally A Bayan Oct 2017
Past midnight...
apart from a nocturne playing
i hear a symphony of peaceful breathing
and snoring...rhythmical, this quiet evening,
it sends me soaring up my own universe,
with eyes closed, it grows more immense
creates some kind of a calm, in the silence
surrounding me, and my muse's presence.
stardust and moon provide me a crown
while i float...and probe around,
seeking something i don't know about,

in this journey,
i feel the absence of souls, slumbering deeply,
dreaming their simple, or strange fairy tales.
the firmament, wears a navy blue veil
stars are dots, they glow and scintillate,
like a warmth in the cold....emancipates
my invisible wings flap and fold,
a door ****...my hands take hold,
my destination...bright, resplendent,
"Cosmic Coffee Shop," a place, transcendent,
brewing a blend
-the dark, the positive
-the sweet, and the negative
a sign says, "write....there's pen and paper
in every corner..."
an invite, for people to create prose and poetry
where coffee is free, smells...tastes heavenly
a place to share...with brethren, in poetry.
::::::::
(an old poem)
1:01 AM


☕️ Sally ☕️



Copyright November 21, 2016
rrab
on a sleepless night,
  ...a plane roars
     ...breaks the silence-
ayame Feb 19

i had never heard a symphony
until you said my name


Starchild88 Jun 2017
You are a walking symphony.

Feet, eagerly stepping on the strings of my heart to create the most beautiful arpeggio that I've ever heard. Arms, grazing the old red bricks that seem to structure this sad place. You screamed "I love you"  and these ragged walls shook as they carried the acoustics of your voice through this concert hall of a heart. I dare you to trust that this place wont collapse. Not with you in it. I refuse.

There have been way too many prior casualties for you to fall victim to the same disasters. I will guide you through. I will love you. Together we will reconstruct what is left and turn the debris into something beautiful.
Puds May 12
Moonlight Sits
Where The Sun Had Laid
The Gates Are Open
And The Stars Parade
I Stay And Watch As They
Rehearse
The Symphony Of The
Universe
HOPE TO SEE YOU ALL AFTER SUMMER
Steve Jun 2018
Tired of living in a false paradise of consumption,
suffering everyday our labored prostitution,
trade in your hours for a handful of scraps,
smile while your master puts the cigar out on your back,
this is the workers symphony,
aching joints, aching psyche,
smothered with whiskey to **** the pain,
our autonomous freedom we'll never regain,
slave till you die, laugh till it hurts, your meaning in life, to merely survive,
collect your checks week after week, creative minds stomped out, just smile and drink,
be a good slave except your fate,
it's just the way it is boy get back in your place,
we gravel in dispair, they spit in our face,
we waste our lives away,
on our hands and knees we just smile and drink,
thinking about breaking these chains,
it's punishable by law,
authority laughs when you die slow for your keep,
with your eyes wide shut,
don't wake your slumber,  
it's all a bad dream,
just go back to sleep,
and forget life's blunder
Rich Sep 2018
Alice Coltrane, your music brings something out of me,
Something nameless
something I keep buried.
As I lay on this bare mattress, humming along to “Turiya And Ramakrishna”
I ponder if you knew your legacy.
If during those last days in 2007, you ever thought your work could inspire poets of the next generation
or was that even a question lingering between your tempels?
Perhaps not.

Well as this pen dances to the melodies you wrote,
I think, and think
and blink
and sink
I wonder if my last hours will happen a year from now or a decade
or a month
or a week
And what will remain of my creations
Have I touched enough lives
Have I loved enough souls
Have I danced enough
Gave enough
Laughed enough?

I envy the sand devoured by oceans
because it’s simply moving on to its next life
I envy photographs because their moments last forever
I envy the tortoise’s shell
I envy the hourglass because its fate is no mystery
I envy those who do not envy
I envy the days before sundials
when days simply couldn’t fit onto paper squares

I...don’t want you to worry.
I am a spark
Finite but furious
bright, unstable, contagious
and capable of lighting your way before I fade

At least I hope.
c Dec 2018
I’ve begun thinking
In terms of music.
We are a decrescendo,
Falling from forte
To pianissimo
As the clock ticks
It’s rhythmic warning.
Your voice is always
In crescendo,
A cello when you laugh,
Mournful viola for those moments
Your strings are wound
Too tightly.
The way your fingers
Glissando across my rib cage,
Playing con amore upon my skin.
You taste like a symphony,
Brass and woodwind,
An opus on my lips.
Some days
You make me forget
How playing someone
Can be bad.
Sunflowers and roses
A unique pair indeed
And they’ll blossom for you
Whenever you may need
You deserve more than these
A garden of wonder
And a symphony that plays
Like a soothing storm thunder
You’ll shine brighter than these
I know this to be true
And the reason that I say this
Is because I love you

-AJT
Dani Oct 2018
Your touch gentle as a petal in the wind
Kisses soft as the morning sun rise
Slowly rising from the dust undisciplined
Bringing a comforting warmth to my thighs

Your smell familiar as a dream once dreamt
A sweet taste on lips kissing
Hands on my body gracefully you tempt
Long lasting moments of caressing

A love so kind, as a flowers tender touch
Leaves tumble outside tap tap tap as one
Tightly to you I clutch
Skin now hot like the risen sun

Burning the day in sweet harmony
Hips playing a perfect symphony

A scenic view of warmth and motion
A breeze swaying wild and free
Like a curling wave in the ocean
Holding on as an unripe fruit to a tree

A sunset slowly falling down
Releasing the day with a wink of light
Night settles on the ground
Your beauty is all I have in sight

Together we breathe in coexistence
Your touch more tender than anyone
Resting now with peace and silence
Calm night, for the day is done
h a r Nov 2017

in the quiet of stillness
I can hear a snowflake
gently land
upon my cheek
a flurry of gossamer
frozen lace lilts ~
peacefully
transforming
the ennui
of chilling silence
into a wilderness symphony



thank you to all
for stopping by to read
"The sound of a snowflake"

written by:  h.a. rivers ... 11/13/2017
our bodies match in an absolutely flawless manner
they sing together with a fiery passion
theyre symphonies writing themselves
theyre perfect harmonies within
like a cadence of sweet victory
our bodies together sing in the perfect key
B Elizabeth G Oct 2018
You breathed tenderness
Into my bones
With pumpkin spice kisses
And waves of sunshine,
Leaking through locked fingertips.
And for moments, gone too soon,
We were one hue;
Red and orange in deep tones
Making music
With the rhythm of every inhale
and ex.
A symphonic masterpiece.
THC all in my blood.
Red eyes, pale lips, tears are about to flood,
Red as western red-bud, from the Hyades mud.
Beblood the white flower bud,
Does Beelzebub has a crud.
Like a parasite leashed on to me,
Photoelectric effect it has to be.
Dark rain fell onto me.,
Lark forgot his song,do you see.
Ghosts of the past disturb us all,
They don't stop until we fall.
And I forget to have a conversation with me,
How can I have a chat with thee?
You see, I have a plea,
I don't want the world to **** my blood like a flea.
This past, even God can't change,
Why worry about it, it's so strange.
Even I can't find a function's range,
I think I have to get Dr. strange.
Melatonin send me to sleep,
I don't wanna wake up with that morning bleep.
At photoelectric effect demons of past did wake
Is all my poetry fake?
Like a symbiotic leashed on to me.
Bryan Lunsford May 2018
With rose petals at the floor of your feet and with candles lit lighting up our scenery,
I know I've never felt more complete than I do right now (with you here with me)

For you are my perfect symphony,
As here, I watch our hearts carry the beat,
(In the midst of our bodies producing this heat)
And I lay you down–where our hearts melt degree by degree,
Making love to you, there, delicately and ever so sweet
Logan Robertson Aug 2018
Twas the night before
Hawaii islands on the radar
A monster opened the door
It shoulders a storied scar

Of the last time, it hit its mark
Rearing its **** head, ahead of pace
As the eye looms '82 in the dark
Wrinkles on this  eve sit sadly in boldface

Kauai sat once in unnatured infamy
It sunny shores hit once by the beast
Clouds of villains played in that symphony
With the next generation looking to feast

As the residence brace for the worst
Of the monster stepping on its paradise
With category four winds and cloudburst
The hope is that the monster plays nice

With the Aloha Spirit preserved with leis
In place of bold headlines of strung wrath
Hawaii can pray rays of light in the coming days
Willing the monster to take a different path

Logan Robertson

8/23/2018
This honor catches me by surprise, so much that I can't wait for the next dawn, sunrise, and all the days that follow. Thank you. Thank you for all the well wishes and support. It means looking at the sunrise, a new dawn, with newfound exuberance and eagerness.

To my friends and relatives on Oahu, I pray. Update-monster played nice. Outstanding was its piano play. Storm went from a 5,4,3,2,1 ... miss. With the Aloha Spirit preserved with leis
In place of bold headlines of strung wrath. Thank you.
Cacooned in the magnitude of the greens ,
A li'l birdie pines to breathe . Pray ! Don't harm the shield .

Listen ! Build a castle of unceased
love,  
Create a Symphony of tranquility and let peace instill .

Pause ! Feel the melliflousness .
Ensure to dwell in blissfulness .

Beware ! Seal the fragile gifts of mother nature with care ,  
for the enhancing  future's repair.


© Mrunalini .D.Nimbalkar
PRAY, LISTEN , PAUSE ,BEWARE ! Love nature# respect nature#save nature#free verse# 02.05.2019
Nathalie Jan 1
There was that moment
an instant of recollection
which drew her inward
and awoke this symphony
of memories; unleashed
without prior warning

It was a time of revelation
a pause from her usual
escape;  her distractions
had no more savour and
it was time to let go
of what needed to be released

The keys to true freedom
was in her hands
and it started from one
truth; the raw indiscretions
of what had been taunting her
yet unresolved, buried within

Moment of truth,
the time was right
She was ready to see
what had always been
before her, but had not
been ready to understand
fully just yet...

~Nathalie
lila Feb 21
mon ange,
what a lovely collection of paradoxes
darling, you’re absolutely celestial

kisses imitate the taste of fresh vanilla
and those eyes
twinkling divinely
as deep as the galaxies
in which they reside

your voice is heavenly
like waves crashing on moonlit shores
and that laugh
i swear it sounds just like
a light bell chiming
music to my ears

your graces blinding rays
shine their golden light
upon sun kissed cheeks

mon ange,
you are a symphony to my senses
2/21/2019
CK Baker May 2017
like that pill bitter Sunday morning (after)
with a nauseating hack
the previously uneventful Tuesday
derailed
in surrealistic tale
with Auntie and Jack (and a quarter of fate)
in the 748
on a night flight
from Sherwood to Lore

reverberating waves
of imminent summer haze
river flats
and flower fields
fly weights
and silver bait
shredders and shysters
and open gates
(into those everlasting
and sweated journeys of hope)

bloods and strays
and florentine grays
(reminiscent of Rockwell fame)
running horses
and overgrown country lanes
morning grace
and gentle cheer
eyes clear
on the river pass
blunted paddles for those ancient
and not so willing suckers!


duke making his own way
(to the corner club)
Parsons and Poe
stream from the torn screen door
cricket cadence
and symphony of the Deere
calm and deliberate
in the soft
and silent fields

meadows open for grazing
(guineas scamper across the till)
pocket apples fill
the country ripe air
drunken bees
and chestnuts
and electric fingers
strike the surface pool
(a cedar strip wedged on the white wash dock)

baited bull heads set to cast
evenings with hearts
and Nolten Nash
may flowers bloom
across the grass
~ time unmatched ~
with blue jays
and river bends
and channel cats
...and that warm
and recurring
Coleman drift
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