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 Jan 2016 erin walts
Lakin
Death sat upon her chapped lips
while midnight crept up, still
with intentions to capture the sun.
I hope this sounds just as good written down as it does in my head.
+                                                                ­                            


(                                  
(                         ­ 
(                  
(        
(  
\/
/\
/    \

                                           ^€€^

mountain high

Angel                                                      
Sky                                  

/:/

Once there were real dreams people lived them

                                                 •

(Such as you and I my lovely girl - child )

•                                                        

I remember honesty

Even true love songs !

                                                •
••
•        ­                                

WAR !

I remember Real Pain !

I
remember watching some die

/::/

in the middle of this gentle evening

The mountain boy

|||||

Remembers the True Seed

The Deeper Love

the purest
Most holy

Family

The sanctuary of the beating heart

••

In a simple dream moment of a dream
We

Wander together

Wander together

::
::
::

And find the STORY of which we have a part

The one that everybody soon SHALL READ

the one that ENDS the way it did START
.


But I NEVER see a poem

( besides my own )

That indicate that anyone ever

CONSIDERS the other poets  here

( except for the pandering for praise )

Nor cares to

)(

Or even bothers to address the poem

To the other poets (!)

)(


We write to some IMAGINARY YOU (!)

)(

Oh well

We cudda done something great here

But we are chicken ***** who like to hide

In the braying and mooing of the herd

And the trite love we know so well




.
 Jan 2016 erin walts
Jake Mann
Feeling the burning heat of this flame
I admire it's ongoing persistence to be
As it stands nearby, warmth it claims
Slowly burning I feel it next to me

This flame withholding so much beauty
As I watch it dancing, melting me away
But so gently that it doesn't **** me
Yet strong enough to bring life to my day

Breaking down this cold set upon myself
Not ever believing such heat could exist
This fire residing within someone else
O if it were to leave how it would be missed
Sweet dimness of her loosened hair’s downfall
About thy face; her sweet hands round thy head
In gracious fostering union garlanded,
Her tremulous smiles, her glances’ sweet recall
Of love; her murmuring sighs memorial;
Her mouth’s culled sweetness by thy kisses shed
On cheeks and neck and eyelids, and so led
Back to her mouth which answers there for all:—

What sweeter than these things, except the thing
In lacking which all these would lose their sweet:—
The confident heart’s still fervour: the swift beat
And soft subsidence of the spirit’s wing,
Then when it feels, in cloud—girt wayfaring,
The breath of kindred plumes against its feet?
 Jan 2016 erin walts
WiltingMoon
Time does not exist...
Time is a blinding mist...
It's a lie that we all follow...
Forever asking for time to borrow...
We are to always live in today...
Never to have our say...
With a tomorrow that never shows...
As the wind of yesterday blows...
Time is a guideline for everything...
For how long our life can sing...
So time does not exist...
Its nothing a face on your wrist...
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