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Poem of the Month October 2019

Layla
Layla
Fire of Insight
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Joined 3rd May 2018
Forum Posts: 222

Summer Swallowed

souladareatease
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Miss_Sub
Miss_Sub
- Missy -
Tyrant of Words
United Kingdom
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Joined 26th June 2011
Forum Posts: 8072

A Brief History of Thyroid Cancer

A dalliance in
Space, cameras
On every corner,
Opioid addiction

Paranoia permeating
Every waking
Moment, grabbing
Your gun because
Of it

Shooting at something
That isn’t
There

And killing something
You never
Expected

There are quicker
Ways to get to
Darkness

There is something
That you need
Right now
That doesn’t
Agree
With
Life

And there’s
This other
Thing,

Also



Written by Taurek
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MUSOREREAGAN
MUSOREREAGAN
_reagan_de_hustla
Lost Thinker
Rwanda
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Joined 17th Feb 2018
Forum Posts: 2

HAPPY BIRTH DAY

It's glad to see a soul like you turn 18..  
It's at the same time sad to see a soul like you loosing the young look..  
Years come and go..  
Moments come and go..  
This time came when I met a soul like you..  
Yet in the first place..  
Never had I at any time thought I would ever meet a soul like you..  
But it's sad that i can't spend the rest of my life enjoying your company..  

There are some people who I can just be with...  
Never say a word..  
And then walk away feeling like it's the best conversation I've ever had..  
And trust me,such people are very rare..  
To make it worse,  
When such people don't realize how much I treasure them...  
Among those you are..  
Besides my siblings...  
You are one that I more less adore like my mum..  
Neither words nor actions can best describe my real feelings for you..  
But only God who knows my inner me..  
Can be my only witness...  

I wish I knew you from childhood..  
Most probably from day one..  
When your mum delivered a soul like you..  
Into this crazy world..  
When you were still that innocent young baby angel..  
So,I can look back and remember the young you..  
Before you became a teen..  
And currently look at the grown up you in your teenage years..  
It's may be then that I would be proud..  
And fully celebrate having been at sight..  
Seeing you rise from roots to shoots..  
 
Unfortunately...  
I met you at a later age....  
Not knowing the real you..  
Neither you knowing the real me..  
None of us knew the past of the other..  
But just judging each other by what we saw..  
Anyway,since none of us ever had it in plan for meeting each other..  
It was just meant to be..  
That I meet a soul like you..  
And from nowhere treasure her beyond limits..  
 
The moments I spend with you..  
Though once in a while..  
Stick into my mind for a life time..  
I swear to God that you are one of a kind..  
That spending time with makes the scenario heaven on earth..  
You're one of a kind that I can never feel insecure telling a secret to..  
How I wish the same applied to you..  
But it's so unfortunate that it a'int the case..  
 
Allow me phase it like this..  
I don't know the number of years you are left with in this crazy world..  
Neither do I know the number of years I'm left with..  
But all I know is you've got bigger dreams about your entire life..  
I know sometimes the world will seem unfair..  
Treating you bad...  
Yet in the first place an innocent soul like you..  
Doesn't deserve being treated in such a way..  
Those moments when you feel like you've got no one to lean on..  
Feeling like cursing the day you were born..  
The only piece of advice I can give to you more so in such moments is..  
Always go onto your knees and pray..  
Believing that such moments are just passing by..  
More so,have trust worthy people you can lean on not only in happy moments..  
But especially when life becomes a puzzle..  
And always keep a positive vibe..  
Regardless of how life may seem unfair..  
It's only then that you will make it through with little or no regrets left behind..  
 
Happy birth day...  
I can't easily spot what you love most..  
Coz even beyond what you think you love most..  
There is always something you can love more than it...  
You deserve more than just worldly pleasures..  
 
All i can say is...  
I'm always and will always be that guy that owes you a rose for every breath you take...  
Never mind leaning on me in case you need a hand..  
All I can promise is..  
Regardless of how apart life may separate us..  
I'm that guy that is always and will forever always be on his knees on your behalf...  
And trust me or not..  
I believe God will answer my sincere prayers..  
The best thing that can ever please me..  
More so about you..  
Is seeing you being very successful beyond limits..  
Wish you the bestest....  
 
Lastly..  
My sincere request is..  
Among those few friends that you treasure...  
And can trust without being insecure...  
The few ones that you can share your secrets,pain,sorrows and joy with...  
The ones that you can lean on in case you need a hand..  
Please let me join the list....  
And trust me..  
You will never regret having me as a life time friend..  
Let moments never take us apart...  
Let distance never erase the memories..  
Let you have a portion of yourself occupied by a portion of me..  
Till death tweets...  
 
Live your entire life like the Ruth I know..  
Never let the world change or duplicate you..  
Let God take control..  
Then just stay an original..  
Be yourself..  
Stay low key...  
Self disciplined..  
Self focused and consistent..  
Simple and down to earth..  
Cute melanin beautified..  
Beautiful black child..  
Stay shading your black clouds..  
Bloodline from Burundi..  
 
Blow more...  
Achieve more..  
Live to please your family and well wishers..  
And more so prove your enemies wrong....  
 
With God on your side...  
Accompanied by your family..  
Relatives,friends and well wishers...  
And not forgetting your enemies..  
Coz they are always there regardless of how real you may be..  
Trust me..  
You will make it...  
More so with a guy like "de hustla"..  
Who treasures you beyond limits...  
And never ceases going onto his knees on your behalf...  
 
If I was to write..  
Words would be endless...  
Let me end it like this..  
Reagan wishes you the best..  
Reagan treasures you..  
Reagan respects you..  
Reagan loves you..  
Reagan adores you..  
Reagan prays for you...  
Only God knows..  
 
Wish you the best of all...  
Grow up mentally,physically,financially,socially,mention them..  
But especially..  
Grow up spiritually...  
Love you...  
How I wish we live to achieve more than we can believe..  
And live to see each other in our late years...  
Till death tweets..  
I remain that one guy...  
"reagan de hustla"  
 
Blow more..  
Achieve more...  
 
Dedicated to: ISHIKANWA RUTH  
 
Written by; Musore Reagan
Written by MUSOREREAGAN (_reagan_de_hustla)
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summultima
summultima
uma
Dangerous Mind
India
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Joined 3rd Feb 2012
Forum Posts: 968

The Fog

 

(1)
The tumbling stones
surrounded wombless porch
wobbly and apprehensive
oscillating
beneath my feet. 
I step off, 
in faded emerald fields 
wading through blades of grass 
softly grazing my skin
pure and nimble; 
persistent with immunity of loss.

(2)
Darkness, unfolded
lethargic and unimposed 
lingering
above the ground 

suspicious of quietude 
offerings
decay in mire.

Purling the air
in billowy clouds 
weighing 
like a pull of wreck 
in my lungs
stumbling in a symmetry 
of felicitous stream 
swelling of coverts
improvising.

(3)
In the embalmment 
of extraordinary in ordinary, 
keeping other wanderers down 
in formless fog
my vision flutters
pretending not to see 
the shadowless, featureless 
slithering 
mouth open, barely 
hissing from a practiced tongue.

Expecting tension, fury
a swift death; 
instead I saw apathetic resignation 
in its leer
luring pleasure, coiled 
tightening in embrace
eye to I
feeling the fear 
dissipate, in desolate 
surrendering to shallow breath 
trashing in trusted defense.

(4)
The absence of light
remained unchanged 
at the margin of daybreak 
the rill became thinner 
in repeated patterns 
imparting
scent of death 
reshaping with persistence 
for safer shadows.

(5)
I regret knowing what laid in the field.
There will always be the unknown
and
The wisdom of fright.
Written by Layla
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Ahrima
Ahrima
Lost Thinker
United States
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Joined 12th May 2017
Forum Posts: 29

What do you do when you know someone who cuts?

What do you do when you know someone who cuts?
When someone is too scared to end there life,
So they cope by seeing seeping blood.
Do you comfort them and hope to help them not?

What do you do when you know someone who has self hatred?
When you know they are in a dark corner
Wearing a jacket over bruises and cuts.
Do you give them advice and try to give them escape from their feeling of numb?

What do you do when you know they blame themselves?
When you know they are spellbound
To their own misfortune melt downs.
Do you tell them you love them and say they mean a lot to you?

What do you do when It gets out of hand?
When there is no more room for new scars,
When they have just gone so far?
Do you tell them they can live and hope they choose to exist?

Finally, What would I do without them?
Mourn and blame myself,
Become like them?
Or will I hurt so bad I become so numb I can’t give in?

I love them so much and don't want them to cut.
I don't know how to stop them,
But if I find a way to take their pain and cast it onto me,
I will.

Please don't cut.
You are in my life and I love you.
There is no need,
You are loved, and cared by me so just please,
Don't cut.
Written by Ahrima
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JohnnyBlaze
JohnnyBlaze
Dangerous Mind
United States
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Joined 20th Mar 2015
Forum Posts: 1405

Here's some flowers

I am sorry I set the fire-    
burnt the house down      
after beating you with fists        
of untruth and innuendo ( again )        
       
I am sorry ( again )        
for accusing your innocent act      
of being a derogatory intent -      
I tend to make everything about myself      
when paranoia gets the best -      
especially when you make me angry ( again ).        
       
But, here! Here are some flowers      
to make it all better ( again )!        
I offer them publicly - with an apology        
in front of everyone, all our friends        
so they can see how sincere I am -      
they will forget my pattern      
of broken peace-promises again        
( and, again ),        
deeming me the better man!        
       
I promise ( yet again )        
I will not repeat negativity        
ever ( again ) - I promise!    
I will work toward the good!  
The positive! - I promise ( again ).      
Just accept these flowers      
despite the abuse you've endured      
and we can just start all over ( again )      
       
as though nothing ever happened -        
isn't that wonderful?!        
We can rebuild, together        
what I deliberately destroyed ( again )      
       
If you refuse these flowers        
this public gesture of manhood-        
then you're weak, small        
unforgiving-        
       
Because, you see      
I said I was sorry ( again )        
for additional havoc I caused        
in a moment of human weakness  
I openly admitted      
because you won't forgive        
       
So this is really your fault-        
you see? you're human too,        
despite living your life positively      
and happily oblivious of me-        
       
I watch your every move      
your every word; everything        
is secretly geared toward me      
       
You think I don't know        
but I do      
and, I can guarantee      
if you don't accept these flowers      
I spent so much time picking ( again )     
especially in front of everyone. . .      
       
there will be more combustion        
when I deem another innocent action      
is covertly about ME        
because YOU won't forgive ( again )        
       
Here's some flowers      
  won't you please accept?        
I promise this time  
   it will be different. . .( again )    
       
~        
       
I spent over a decade volunteering with a battered women's shelter after a four-year abusive relationship.  Sometimes counseling involved both parties, and these fuckers would say or do anything publicly to get the upper hand.  If you are suffering abuse, do not be lulled by public professions because of peer pressure. Allow people to think what they will, to choose sides if they want - it will prune your fields of frenemies.  Those who love and care for you will stand by you because they love and care for you. Those who don't will be revealed by their choice - is this not a blessing? It's one of the highest to me.        
       
Apologies lose their meaning when the abuser says “sorry” so often, yet the abuse does not stop.  Their behaviour does not match their words. If you are experiencing any type of abuse, you always have the right to refuse an apology. You always deserve to feel safe, happy and respected in every kind of relationship. Refusing an apology does not mean you have not forgiven - because forgiveness isn't about the OTHER person, but YOURSELF.  It's letting go and moving forward without allowing an abuser rent inside your head - not allowing them to occupy one single thought.        
       
The following quote is  wonderful mantra to live by"        
       
"Emotionally intelligent people are quick to forgive, but that doesn’t mean that they forget. Forgiveness requires letting go of what’s happened so that you can move on. It doesn’t mean you’ll give a wrongdoer another chance. Successful people are unwilling to be bogged down unnecessarily by others’ mistakes, so they let them go quickly and are assertive in protecting themselves from future harm."        
       
And by all means, if you are the victim of abuse, know the laws, know your emergency numbers, and reach out for help.  There are some wonderful domestic violence shelters and organizations that will help you overcome, and your future will be the better for it once you're empowered.      
     
Here's a great link: "But he gave me flowers"      
Ros Jeal describes how she is helping women stop themselves from being lured back into abusive relationships.      
     
https://www.hgi.org.uk/resources/delve-our-extensive-library/society-and-culture/%E2%80%9C-he-gave-me-flowers%E2%80%9D  
 
Meaningful emotional blackmail is a very good section.
Written by Ahavati
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cold_fusion
cold_fusion
Tyrant of Words
Australia
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Joined 14th June 2017
Forum Posts: 2242

fall the rain

 
can fall the rain?
can rage the trees, that give a hospice
to every weary, wounded bird?
can call the birds by name?

was every road so cobbled & split
was every cloud a bruise upon the sky
was every grassy field parched & withered
was every hill so high

a soldier’s helmet is a crown of thorns
his aches, a spear thrust in his side
full of a minstrel that merely mourns
full of sorrow, but never cried

dismantle the cannon that pocks the land
rip the flag that takes no mends
a thousand miles begins a journey
a journey never ends

the burning night is made of songs he didn’t sing
the hill that stretches higher, higher
a brooding passion, a sculpted fire…
  I’ve lost something


(Art: Rene Jacques)

Written by JohnFeddeler
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wallyroo92
wallyroo92
Dangerous Mind
United States
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Joined 11th July 2012
Forum Posts: 875

Wildest Dreams (a villanelle) {re-posted}

Josh
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DanielChristensen
DanielChristensen
The Fire Elemental
Dangerous Mind
United States
9awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 27th Feb 2016
Forum Posts: 55

Dark Love, Sleepless Night

( after Federico Garcia Lorca )
( a double Sonnet )

I stand before this soul of mourning stars
That drift within the bound’ries of my heart.
To ever show the light my open scars,
And keep desire stilled when we’re apart.

To separate the nature of my pain
While even in a crowd I am alone.
Forbidden tears ignite and fall as rain,
But never will they see a love that’s flown.

Determined, the inclusion of my truth,
The heaven-sent of you is ever near.
And driven by the beauty of our youth,
A reckless, hopeful, carefree, happy year!

I only hope for love, I won’t pretend.
To have it for a day, to never end.

 It was the moon that overflowed with milk,
And kept the atrium of night awake.
While pouring out my grief in shades of silk,
You looked on mockingly then turned away.

A chrysalis, I bled with every sting,
A deity, the dignity you bore.
And yet, from pillars of each broken wing,
I heard you weep across a barren shore.

A morning rise of oranges from a tree,
The moon becomes an apple as it sets.
Below, among the shells of sand’s debris,
The stillborn tides of day will soon forget.

When love is dark it blends in with the night,
So when love cannot sleep the moon is bright.

Written by Jade-Pandora (jade tiger)
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DanielChristensen
DanielChristensen
The Fire Elemental
Dangerous Mind
United States
9awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 27th Feb 2016
Forum Posts: 55

A letter to my lover.

           
                
Dearest, V.                
                 
                 
We've both lived to see another day.                  
                 
When it'll stop..                
                 
I just don't know.                  
                 
Perhaps, it will be a brighter day, darling.                
                 
Yesterday, I had a bad case of the "mean reds” I'm afraid.              
                 
It's a slippery slope into the emptiness, my dear.                
                 
I pull my trench coat tighter over my shoulders..                
                 
..hurry down the alleyway and turn a sharp corner.                
                 
A puddle splashes behind me.                  
                 
Is there a man lurking in the shadows?                
                 
The overhead sign for the HILTON hotel flashes a bright neon red.                
                 
Clouds loom in the distance.                
                 
A violent flash of lightening.              
                 
Thick, fat dollops begin to wet  my face.                
                 
I decide to check into a suite for the evening.                
                 
I stand in the lobby chatting pleasantries with the concierge.                 
                 
"We'll send the bellhop to bring your luggage up, if necessary, ma'am."                
                 
"Thank you. That won't be necessary."                
                 
"Would you be requiring anything else ma'am?"                
                 
"Is the kitchen still open? I'd love to have a bottle of chilled wine sent up."                
                 
"Room service is 24 hours ma'am. The beverage menu is on the reading desk in your room."                
                 
"Thank you, darling, you've been ever so helpful."                
                 
I head upstairs in the elevator.                  
                 
I have arrived.                  
                 
The room is cold.                
                 
Pitch black.                
                 
The whir of the heater hums softy.                
                 
The floor is an shiny, ink marble tiling.                  
                 
My heels click beneath me.                
                 
I switch on the light.                
                 
There is a pretty bouquet of bright orange amaryllis..                
                 
that sits elegantly on the glass mantel.                  
                 
The bed itself has a swan shaped towel arrangement..                
                 
and a mint.                
                 
Heavy, plush purple curtains stuffed into gold roped hold-backs..                
                 
line the large windows.                
                 
The rain gently throbs against it's panes.                  
                 
The room is completely still.                
                 
..except for the sound of my breathing.                
                 
I walk into the bathroom.                  
                 
The crystal, clear orbs decorate the vanity.                
                 
The bulbs omit a soft flicker once turned on.                
                 
I rotate the knobs right and then left..                
                 
fiddling with the water pressure.                
                 
I empty the contents of the lavender bubble bath into the tub.                
                 
The scent of floral fill my nostrils..                
                 
..and I sigh, calmly.                
                 
It feels soothing in here.                
                 
..like a small haven of temporary reprieve..                
                 
from the trials of tomorrow.                
                 
The  silver stained gillespie contains a basket of potpourri in the corner.                
                 
I strip off my clothing piece by piece.                
                 
Gently..                
                 
.. I fold  my lace undergarments and dress on top of the towel rack.                
                 
I stare at my reflection completely naked in  the mirror.                
                 
I am beautiful..                
                 
..or so they say.                
                 
I dip my rose colored polished toe over the ledge..                
                 
and swirl..                
                 
..the bubbles around with my foot.                
                 
There is a knock on the door..                
                 
..disturbing me from my thoughts.                
                 
Hastily..                
                 
I tie on the thick, cotton rob hanging from the wooden hanger in the hall closet..                
                 
..around my waist.                
                 
The door swings open and there he stands before me.                
                 
The waiter.                
                 
He puts the wine in a polished, silver bucket by the television stand.                
                 
I take a couple purple notes from my wallet..                
                 
..and tip him handsomely.                  
                 
His smile is wide..                
                 
..exposing his large two gaped front teeth.                  
                 
His eyes are a hazelnut brown.                  
                 
They seem genuine..enough.          
                 
He thanks me and lingers for a moment..                
                 
..before wheeling his cart away.                
          
Does he wonder why I'm spending the night drinking alone?               
                 
Would he like to join me?                
                 
I turn the latch until it clicks shut.                
                 
Once again, the only sound..                
                 
..is my steadfast breathing.                
                 
In and out.                
                 
The quiet becomes unnerving.                  
                 
I turn on Spotify.                
                 
Cat Stevens whispers:                
          
"I listen to the wind..to the wind of my soul.."          
                 
I carry the wine back into the bathroom.                
                 
The words trail behind me.                
                 
"Will I end up where I think..only God really knows."                
                 
I shrug off my robe.                
                 
I forgo the glasses by the sink and sip from bottle head.                  
                 
I pour the ice directly into the bath.                
                 
The bucket clangs on the hard  floor.                
                 
The loud, thunderous  sound sets off an eerie echo.                
                 
The ice pellets slosh to the bottom of the tub..                
                 
..sending trickles of  hot steam into the air.                
                 
Everything is perfect.                
                 
In this fragment of time.                
                 
I switch over to the playlist I want to hear.                
                 
Led Zeppelin croons out of the speakers:                
           
"I was her love.. she was my Queen..and now a thousand years between."             
                 
I lay down in the water, craning the bottle between my thighs.                
                 
Absorbing the silky words.                
                 
Taking them all the way in.                
                 
Filling my soul..                
                 
..with something or other.                
                 
Is it joy?                
                 
"Tangerine..tangerine..living reflection of a dream."                
                 
I swig back large gulps of wine.                
                 
The frayed ends of the peel- and-stick lilac wallpaper..                
                 
are all I can focus my eyes on.                
                 
The lines taunt me.                
                 
My phone vibrates.                  
                 
I ignore it.                
                 
Joni Mitchell's voice floats into the midst above.                
                 
Casting her light from the ceiling..                
                 
like a beacon shining down on me.                
                 
"I'm selfish and I'm sad..now I've gone and lost the best baby I've ever had."                
                 
I reach out for my purse on the toilet lid.                
                 
Two little blue pills ought to do it.                
                 
I twist off the cap and dump them out..                
                 
into my sweaty palm.                
                 
Bubbles fly over the rim from my sudden jerk..                
                 
The water swishes  back and forth in waves.                  
                 
"Do not take more than one"  the pharmacist lectures me.                  
                 
My neck tilts back.                
                 
I swallow the leftover six.                
                 
Just to be safe.                
                 
"For unless they see the sky.. but they can't and that is why."                
                 
John Elton sings over his piano.                
                 
I can see him..  in a vision.                
                 
His eyes dancing behind his spectacles.                
                 
"They know not if it's dark outside or light."                
                 
There is a bitter taste..                
                 
that has lodged itself..                
                 
like a sticky ball of phlegm..          
         
into  the back of my throat.                
                 
I wait.                
                 
Patiently.                
                 
In a trance.                
                 
The walls begin to hiss and vibrate.                
                 
My heart hurts.                
                 
My arms fall flat and I cannot seem to raise them up again.                
                 
Cold sweats shake my bones somethin' fierce.                
                 
I cough.                
                 
I heave.                
                 
I spit into the warm water.                
                 
The chalkiness won't leave it's mark on my tongue.                
                 
Slowly yet surely..                
                 
the familiar darkness sweeps over.                
                 
My eyes fade into black.                
                 
Lifeless.                
                 
Then the voices begin to purr sweetly.                
                 
Coaxing me nearer.. deeper into the void.                
                 
"I'm not letting you go."                  
                 
Yours,                
                 
LostGirl                
                 
Written by LostGirl18
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sunsettown
sunsettown
Lost Thinker
  profile   poems   message
Joined 5th Oct 2019
Forum Posts: 2

________

   
'is      
an      
overdose      
of one’s own      
marrow'
     
     
at dawn      
     
it  can    
painfully    
dismember      
everything    
once    
known    
..only then    
to enrich    
details untold    
   
 
it’ s merely      
the authoress      
of  
~Spatial Acts~
written in
cursive   
     
when one      
takes the      
garden      
pathe      
that leads      
home or to      
somewh’er      
yet another      
recognise      
not the      
principle of      
your exit
     
     
at dusk      
     
it’s an eye          
with seven      
angles of
sight
     
     
it’s neither      
     
a provocative      
lover      
or enemy..      
therefore its      
tendencies      
are of  mutual      
differentiation      
in each      
and every      
animus/anima      
     
a seeker of      
blood’honey..

     
     
     
     
     
     









a healing pause of thought..
Written by HowlingWhelms (Noire)
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sunsettown
sunsettown
Lost Thinker
  profile   poems   message
Joined 5th Oct 2019
Forum Posts: 2

Of the Eaters

DanielChristensen (The Fire Elemental)
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summultima
summultima
uma
Dangerous Mind
India
28awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 3rd Feb 2012
Forum Posts: 968

Pebbling Pilgrimage

un  

Washing in batik skies  
Tidal belly scrapes over shingle  
Cobalt swimmings turn blue  
Shades of arc(h)ed existence.  
Fluting along whale motorway,
Crashing roll, strangled berceuse,  
Collapsing lungs of caved yearnings  
Since all hearts were soaked in daesin oil.  
From the beginning forebears  
were diving for pearls.  
 
dau  
 
On wet sand my bow breaks  
Collecting pebbles in bistre bucket;  
Moving crab-like, soft sho(r)e shuffle,  
The beads chime as Shakti bracelets  
Swinging from boughs on forest fringe,  
Sharing stories set in stone.  
 
Ejaculated by sea spray  
Ground by history bedrock  
Stained by moonlight, mirroring  
Bird wings under waves.  
Into the pebble pool:  
Pen shall skinny dip  
Indigo ink rippling o’er    
Smooth naked flint skin.  
Love’lithic liberations  
Commit to where water and land meet.  
 
tri  
 
A rotten fish and seagull cadaver  
In fading light on verge of foreplay.  
Two pairs of glassed eyes become three  
A tourist forms a diorama trinity,  
Crumbling sepulchral razing on promenade.  
He belongs to family of bereaved  
Stood as binoculars ~ lost lenses        
Tracing bodies in morgue’ing memories:  
Angles shift, jaw jut to universe edge  
Heeled flesh to tine of every continent,  
70 degrees from the tired sun.  
Dreams cling to other side of breakers -  
He does not return my smile.  
 
pedwar  
 
Autumn breath draws  
Glacial curtains missionary open  
Allow anaesthetised mist to form  
On hospital windows by the sea.  
 
Oceans cry as Carmenta’s love child  
Cradled between bruised birth ribs  
& corded state of becoming    
Tears stretch flux to emotional flex.  
 
pump  
 
Beyond the peak of colours  
As mountains fall into  
Sleeptember shadowlands -  
Ember’ed sunsets slash day’s throat  
With a blunting blade,  
Cleaving thru’ hill cleavage with    
Ambering thrust of rust.  
 
Winter will be described thus:  
‘harsh’ ‘cruel’ ‘unrelenting’  
As it always is, and  
We always do -  
Living among patterns.  
 
chwech  
 
Old red eyes had returned  
One forgotten summer:  
Eternal Barman coalesced vodka  
Dredged dregs…..  
Cockroach bones, burnt diary ashes  
Eyelashes of love graved, guttered rain.  
 
In absence of absinthe sugar crystals  
Liquesce thru’ needled eye, spirit rasped  
Raw to throat, as rat being skinned.  
1001 ways to go astray  
Typical me, found another way…..  
You could tell as I slept all day.  
 
saith  
 
Sometimes a voice broken asks  
Brushing verisimilitude verse into corners:  
‘Is this all self portrait  
Palimpsest painting of inner self  
Is it all made up?  
Lipstick dust on mirrors  
Open books, stained cups  
Vase’d dead rose, rain rattling window?’  
 
wyth  
 
Contours of heart cartography/  
Finally found latitude of home:  
Tis long roam home when your name is shit,  
How could one walk into life of another  
When others have cut legs down to knees?  
Honey, I very much at home!  
   
Viewing our blue moon carnival  
Thru’ hubris of hubble telescope,  
Laika barks muffled drum roll  
For 2 souls in streamed confluence of 1.  
 
naw  
 
how dare we even  
think such things,  
when future is unthinkable  
but here we are –  
thinking it  
 
deg  
 
Snow shavings of your skin  
Will cover my mindscape  
Lightest veil will bridle all this  
To reins and straps of spring,  
Sun salutations,  
Butterfly breath on new’ing dawns.  
The summer can wait  
Strawberry finger prints on flesh  
Sucking in foutain’ous sandalwood streams.  
Let summer break prayers  
On circled monsoon marshland.    
 
In poetry of the night  
Writing into me  
Dusky ochre twilight  
Streetlights trace outstretched hands  
To dance amongst wildflowers.  
 
Pebbles…..  
Chrysanthemums…..  
Flowing flows.....  
Morning dream-drops  
Of all to behold.  
   
 
#pic. Irish Sea. By me. Boring facts of the day. Very close to the spot where Larkin’s parents met for first time in 1902. Ghost of Ruth Ellis has been perceived staring out to sea here. Last woman hanged in UK, raised in this town.
Written by Trouble_Loves_Me
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