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Head tilted
Lips to the sky
Silhouette of Strength.
Ancient Truths
Resonate within

Standing tall
Shoulders wide
Stance solid~ strong and wise
Knowing what
has come before

Heart open
Deep of vision
Seeing forward~back
Layers of time

Fully present
Embracing all
Your being, Your soul
Beating a rhythm that trancends
this earth~this universe
Weaving us together as One*


Copyright © 2015 Christi Michaels.
All Rights Reserved.
Ancestral Beings
 Jun 2015
Paul M Chafer
Yes, only a mother, truly knows,
The true extent of her child’s woes.
Pain blossoming so deep inside,
Hurting so, while trying to hide
From a mother’s, knowing eyes,
Confident that mother, never pries.

Instead she gives her sound advice,
Being agreeable, saying how nice,
The flower garden looks today,
While in a sublime, pleasant way,
She soothes the inner aching pain,
Removing all the stress and strain.

She sees the strengths, weaknesses,
Gifts with which the child is blessed,
The nature of all burdensome traits,
Heart’s desires, the loves, the hates,
Character blooming through the years,
Sharing laughter, along with the tears.

Reflected within the child’s face,
Throughout awkward early grace,
She herself soon becomes exposed,
And as intrinsic recognition shows,
She gathers to her humbled breast
A tireless love that knows no rest.

The child hoards with thoughtless ease,
Bumps and bruises and skinned knees,
And if the hurts are too much to bear,
A child knows mother is always there,
Her calming words soon gently caress,
Soothing all troubles with tenderness.

The child grows and finds another
Person to love as much as mother,
But the bond of life remains forever,
Cannot be broken, not now, not ever,
And the child realizes as it grows,
Yes, only a mother; truly knows.

©Paul M Chafer 2015
This poem is for mothers everywhere, even fathers, even fathers who have replaced a lost or missing mother, even a mother who has lost her children.
 Jun 2015
SøułSurvivør
~~~^¡^~~~


she comes for water
from the wild
dove of desert
nature's child

she of sweetness
plumage neat
buff and ecru
to my feet

she is pure
sleek of line
her's perfection
in design

she's so close
I see her eyes
she's not afraid
of my great size

curious
she looks at me
a wild thing
completely free

what have her
ancients
done and seen?
Manchu Pichu
Inca kings?

missionaries
born in Spain
conquistadors
who've
come for gain

****** men
so brutal, bold
slaughter natives
for their gold

****** in "marriage"
Aztec queens
so now their
bloodlines
are rarely seen

i think on this
Oh! Poorest love!
so much like them
my

Inca dove


soulsurvivor
(C) 6/14/2015
I was so touched by
this beautiful creature

she was shy at first
then came right to my feet

We leave water out for the
desert animals
and she is familiar with me now
so she gets really close

Much as the trusting natives
of these continents
came to the Spanish
They were slaughtered.
And could not even keep their own
bloodlines.

Fortunately for the little dove
I am gentle
But this is a lesson
BE CAREFUL WHO YOU TRUST

~~~^¡^~~~
 Jun 2015
poetessa diabolica
She's an imp of a troublemaker fairy
they call her Heather Featherwand
she lives midst ancient ruins
    'pon Saturn's ringlets
          of ethereal ice & dust
you might get a peek at her
  neath a summertide night's dream,
she wears lavender and tangerine
  to blend in with the blazing cosmos,
 her pale peachy butterfly wings
    make sounds like katydids
     singing in the treetops and
         cicadas come to life at night
  further adding to her mysterious flight,
she took off one day, they say
    with the man in the moon
  and they've been starstruck ever after
Supposedly my fairy name is Heather Featherwand, long story,  just having a little fun with it!
 Jun 2015
SøułSurvivør
wraith of white
you wander wild
the hinterland
Valkyrie's child

your breath pants mist
in icy caves
you have made
10, 000 graves

your image is
in winter skies
its crystal glitters
in your eyes

loping through
the cold chill wood
its secrets you
have understood

born to lead
long of fang
through the glaciers
your voice rang

lonely in your Lycan heart
you made the ****
your kindest art

wolf of legend
wolf of lore
you'll reign untamed

forevermore


soulsurvivor
(C) 2/16/2014
Rewritten 6/12/2015
~~~<₩>~~~
 Jun 2015
PrttyBrd
Oh My Darling
My life, my love
You are all that I am
Everything that I can be
Without you
I am naught
At times we are at odds
Though my love remains
I long for you,
When you seem distant
I am wholly lost
Left to fester in my head
With you at my side
I am whole
I have sacrificed my sanity for my emotions
To feed my dearest love
61015
greek mythology, muse of epic poetry
 Jun 2015
Rob Rutledge
The treeline stands as sentinels,
Offering crowns to the crescent moon.
The rooted column of soldiers
Witness the slender shadow as it grew.
A thumb sized fairy in its hand,
Bent double to whisper tidings
Of human flesh on sacred land.
That which is sacrosanct
Can not so easily be swayed!
As all the beasts of myth and nightmares
Charge on into the fray.

The knight finished taking a **** against the tavern wall,
The last defence of the realm, children and us all.

Well.....

That and trebuchets,

Spears,

Swords.

All the tools of war.

Far beyond the Forrest front
Pride, The Lord of Man
Forges ill thought plans
Lazily playing chess, cavalier
With the lives of pawns.
Thoughtlessly moving pieces with
Trembling blood stained hands.
 Jun 2015
SøułSurvivør
i


the
weak mountain
sent it's pale blue streaks
into the river
she accepted by
sneaking them
to their
final breath
in
the
sea


ii


fire
two years
of drought
tear
the source of rain
in twain
the water witches dance like
dervishs turn and toss
for the wine
on

your


table


iii


the fabrics
of the other side
slashed by
a single syllable of
lightning
the clouds cover
the

abashed

face

of

Venus



iiii


press
the world's
face to the glass
and all it sees
is a mirror
an enormous eye
staring
toward
God
his blue muscles ripple
the tsunami spoils
for a fight
the

golden

spires

engulfed in

wet

flame


soulsurvivor
(c) 6/4/2015
nature takes by force
what is not given

resistance is futile
all the works of man
are as bacterium to a
Tyrantesaurus Rex

---
 May 2015
Sia Jane
You raise me from the dead
you ask me why I felt the need to go?
a life so young, a girl so unknown
hid away from the world
until my final breath, took me to
my resting place.

A New Moon hangs low in the sky
reflecting your silhouette in marble stone
as you dig through the night,
whistling your tune
unearthing souls
too fragile for this world

Song birds signal the break of dawn
tides are high, crashing to the shore
another morning whispers your prayers
you hear my ghost
you know I'm near
you ask of me to show myself
you long to see my face

As I appear,
once frozen glaciers melt
down your cheeks
like streams on a mountain

Your eyes are cleansed
loss & solitude evaporate
& you find me
back in your Universe.

© Sia Jane
Trying to keep up <3 work in progress!
 May 2015
SøułSurvivør
---

the small frail child
runs in and out of the surf
she bends gracefully and stretches her hand out for another shell

working the waves
she delicately turns her find
over in her fingers with appreciation
before placing it carefully in her pail

a dedicated sea nymph
she works the morning hours
through, her job is delight in nature

and she is paid in sand dollars


soulsurvivor
(c) 5/30/2015
My most precious memory.
I LOVE shells!

---
 May 2015
K Balachandran
And when the lights, once bright, one by one
in weariness shut their eyes, the last visitor
came in perplexed and stood still before
the one and only exhibit, kept specially for her.
An abstract artifact, creation of hearts through many summers,
a cry stifled in her *******, felt like a piercing knife to her,
But in that seeping darkness she didn't see a blob of blood
oozing out from it's center and dripping on the ground wetting her feet.
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