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 Feb 2017
Denel Kessler
Show me
true beauty
how waves
break the shore
into individual grains
yet each contains
the whole
crystalline universe
reflecting light
renouncing midnight

Leave me not
upon the sand
barefoot and stripped
recounting sins
to the weary wind
return my heart
to loving grace
salt-scrubbed chambers
cleansed of hate
tenderly reborn

let love
rise from this
arid ground
clear water drawn
from a deeper well
with cupped hands
tend the seeds
so we may eat
of the bounty
that rightfully belongs

to no one
In the market I'm a popular man.

So very nice they say
he doesn't even ask the price.

I'm the sellers' good mate
they decide the weight
or rather the mass,

So very kind they say
he's the buyer top class.

I'm the sellers' idol
the quote they call
I pay

So very good they say
he's our man every day.

They decide the rate
decide the weight
even the item

while my mind thinks of a poem.
 Feb 2017
Tryst
Ban the burka or the bomb?
Ban the turban or the gun?
Ban the Bible or the gore?
Ban the Torah or the war?

Ban religion, ban belief
Ban San Frontièrs, ban relief
Ban the poets, ban free speech
Ban the people born to teach

Ban the children, ban the old
Ban the meek and ban the bold
Ban the weakest, ban the strong
Ban the music, ban the song

Ban the freedom of the sea
Ban ideals of liberty
Ban your birthright, ban free will
Ban excitement, ban the thrill

Ban all things with no misgiving
Ban the joyous gift of living.
 Jan 2017
Pagan Paul
.
With this tarnished love I do
paint the world with darker hue,
and rise 'pon no light restraint
with shadow clouds for me to taint.

So ride black mood and flee away
torture me not for another day.
Begone! Be banished, leave no trace
release my heart to a better place.

Fate may bring wither she will
a new adventure, my love to thrill,
so permit this curtain call be seen
as my epitaph to a broken dream.


© Pagan Paul (2017)
re-work
 Jan 2017
Valsa George
There was
none
to
listen
to her

Her words were like:

- A cry in the wilderness
that broke and shattered on woody trunks

- The howl of a lone wolf
that rose in the dead of the night

- The cry of an infant
that told the world, it was hungry

The cacophony of discordant orchestra
that left a jarring effect on the listeners

Her words sounded meaningless
To a world that spoke a different tongue

With no receptacle, her words like heated waters
Evanesced into vapor and billowed upward
Like coils of smoke to freeze into clouds

But one day it rained down,
Quite unexpected…….

With thunder and lightning!
-
 Jan 2017
vivian cloudy
I watch the water
beam from the sun
and that is what you call
making love
The Earth is the greatest poet I know.
I pluck at her expression
every so often
merely attempting
to translate her lyrics
into something,
just something
we can all feel and understand
My salutes to you, Earth.
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