Let it go.
Free yourself.
Don't be stepped on.
Any longer.
Be real.
Be raw.
Be honest.
Not only to others but, be fully honest to yourself.
Be aware, always.
Be strong, always.
And no that the moment is in the here and now.
Not tomorrow.
Not next week.
Now.
Right now.
Just be

The first page of the story. Tells you nothing of how it will end.

I am addicted to you.
I am addicted to happiness.
Happiness I find in the taste.
The taste of you.


I am addicted to the sensation of your skin against mine.
The taste of your lips against my lips, constantly linger.
The simplicity of my addiction for this being, is unimaginable.
The simple smell of her perfume, the way she holds herself.


My addiction goes deeper than just physical meanings.
My addiction runs to my soul.
This addiction, which we call love, ether way it's the same way.
Consumes me, It fulfills my deepest desires.


My addiction will be the end of me.
It will suffocate me and drain me, until I am no more.
Sadness and realization go hand in hand, both make you stronger.
My addiction is life, love, happiness, pain, sorrow, and to never leave someone behind, never betray them....

Saturday night.
I was dragged to hell.
Unlike the hell you've read about.
A hell all around us.

Monsters in disguise as humans.
Laughter in the sound of ghouls.
Smiles on the face of goblins.

The devil himself dosed me.
And thus began the trip
The trip into hell. An internal hell.

Still I bleed the same and feel the same
But my mind is still in the trip.
A false reality.
Or is it real?

Dreams of you and I entangled.
Still to haunt my mind.
Waking from a dead cold rest.
To find.
Your gone, with time.
Gone with all my ryhmes.
But over try I will.
Until my heart stops and time stands.
For you left my heart.
But it's never left you.
Lonely cradles filled with whimpers.
Never to rock again.
Pull the trigger, to begin again.

...kites, roses and apple pie
(A repost from 2014...edited)


In life, in deeds,
You have been, still are, courageous
In your words, in your creeds,
I say you are all so sweet,
Infectious,
You all are contagious!
Just a single line of your words
Would surely, quickly be re-quoted.
You are exemplary in
Whatever you say or do...

Enlightened are those with furrowed brows
Upon reading your works,
Commendations,
And acclamations
Bothered by ideas and words
So foreign and difficult...
Clarifications,
simple explanations
Readily are provided...
One need not ask...

Like well respected, learned leaders,
Actions, words are emulated.
You are sweet...
You are infectious...
You are contagious!

If you were colorful kites,
Soaring up the blue skies
You would have so many tails
Hanging, trailing behind you...
Here in our world
Your followers  are like ants
Trailing your footsteps...
Never straying, not at all waning,
But multiplying.....

In a bed of roses,
Bees, birds and butterflies
Would never stop fussing
Endlessly buzzing
From up above, and all around you...
Taking all their needs,
Not forgetting themselves to feed,
To recreate, from your seeds
these, they are bound to heed...

Now,  
If you were a plate of fresh,
Yummy and crusty apple pie,
With a scoop of ice cream on top..
Oh me, oh, my....
I may not forget these three men,
But....I am bound to starve...
Pardon me, but...
Surely, I would be oblivious
The first one to be ravenous
To the point of being outrageous
Can't stop...can't wait...
This is my moment:
As long as I have a mug of hot brewed coffee
I shall take my time...
I won't feel choked,
Won't even be thirsty...
Voraciously, I would finish the whole plate off...
Til crust and crumbs fill me with too much stuff...

::::::::::::

For the Triumvirate of Bala, Nat and Pradip...

in alphabetical order, no one comes first or last... for these three are
      all soaring high in their respective styles of poetry...

there are many others worth mentioning, a plethora of names and styles, in fact...
    


Sally

Copyright 2014
rrab

Strange creatures circle the edges
And their eyes are hungry and haunted
One day their teeth shall glint dangerously
And I know it very well
For I shall be their meat
Though I cannot imagine fear
And I should feel something

Several people are asking me for help
But I shall probably turn away
For uncertainty clings to my head
Like a monkey that cannot be shaken
With claws in my eyes
I try to see my way out
But, of course, there is none
And the demands on my name
Echo where my conscience should be

Passengers come and go
On my endless journey
The landscape is familiar
And occasionally a memory smiles and waves
All too briefly, it seems
I feel I ought to cry more
But nothing seems to hurt as it used to
Only my nakedness makes me cold

                                               By Phil Roberts

She was playing with the rim of her glass. Running a finger. She wasn’t fully aware, it wasn’t really on purpose. As if the glass was playing with her, not the other way around. Her fingertips went down on the glass, caressing its stem. There was so much happening in the back of her head that she wasn’t completely present. She dipped her finger and got a taste. Just the tip, she thought. Just a drop. Why? There was no “why”. Something was going down. She wanted to break the ice and make him forget about protocols and small talk and all the boring stuff. Her clock was already ahead. Her lips weren’t kissing the glass. They were elsewhere. Kissing the tip. She wanted that dip. She wanted his lips on the rim of her glass. Sipping from her. Something had spilled somewhere. But not the cool of the wine. It was warm. Who knows where it had started to trickle. Somewhere behind her eyes, would be a good guess. But it was inevitable where it would end up. It would part lips. It would not be contained. Here thighs were clenched shut like a vise. Her tongue craved new flavor. She wanted to excuse herself but she felt a bizarre excitement in walking on a razor-thin edge of a boiling sensation. The tease. The pleasant torture. He had stopped talking. He was focused on her lips. How long has it gone like that? Her casual gestures couldn’t mask anything now. She was all color seeping from behind the makeup. She suddenly caught his stare just like she would his hand. But she would not deflect it. She would guide him. And this realization exploded in her head… and everywhere simultaneously. She closed her eyes briefly and exhaled. She climaxed.
“Are you okay?”

...gone flat
Just fizzed out of me
But I do write sometimes....

Not tonight—
Only frantic sparrows roosting
Heavy overlap of clouds