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 May 2016
Kurt Carman
Found out today that a grand baby
Is due to arrive in November, the very first.
Anticipation whelms over, I take a deep breath,
And step into the warm sun light to take this all in!

Thoughts race through my mind
What will it be boy or girl? - Note to self “Hey man does it really matter”
Praying for health, ten fingers and ten toes,
And an extraordinary heart and soul!
I loved you before you were born. Praying you love fly-fishing!
 May 2016
South-by-Southwest
Innocence  displayed
Like a little girl touching dandelions
. . . a butterfly left behind
lingering on the doorsteps of winter . . .

Time , Time , Time
. . . so elusive , so undefined . . .

we have tried (so) true
(only) we fall so short

Love . . .  an instance in time . . .
. . . so passionate (in it's) displacement
We hope for but it lays like the cross
. . . at Jesus's feet . . .

We bury time , we bury love
We bury ourselves in search of both

The little girl without a sense of time
Knowing only basic love . . .
Tenderness of care . . .
and dandelions

Maybe we are the dandelions of time
Petals of love . , . surrounding each
in it's time . . . falling  . . .
one by one . . .
Like kisses given and taken

Lost to time , in love ,
till the doorsteps of winter
close in and freezes the moment

. . . all alone . . .

Love  . . . time . . . dandelions
Little girls . . . and innocence . . .

Run away as fast as you can
Just trying to figure out what in the Hell happened .
 May 2016
Valsa George
When rain had gone and dusk had fallen,
When birds had roosted and their chirping stilled,
When sky had cleared and the lone clouds trailed,
You held me close and whispered in my ear.

Your voice, like a tremulous rivulet gurgled,
With passion sweet, you did chant,
“In your eyes I see, the blue of the sky,
In your soul, you hold the depth of the seas,
Love swells, like tides on rise,
My life, I vow, by Jove, never to part,
On this dimpled cheek, a kiss I plant,
A gesture warm with abiding love.
Crisscross lain as warp and weft,
We together shall weave the garb of life”.

Words that served as balm to the soul!
Still they echo, gushing a flurry of thoughts,
But alas! To a far unknown land you fled,
‘From whose bourn, no traveller returns’,
To be wooed by a thousand glimmering dames,
Who peep down from Heaven’s insurmountable heights.


My life has mouldered and mildew grown,
Where my Love! Whither have you gone?
Who bid you slink into deaths secret hide?
Why left me to languish in Love’s solitary bower?

Seasons roll and years glide,
‘At my back I always hear,
Time’s winged chariot hurrying near’.
Youth has withered and memory fails,
But in my mind is etched deep,
That beautiful dusk, we rambled free,
When the rain had gone and dusk had fallen,
When the sky had cleared and lone clouds trailed.

Along the winding paths we roamed,
Two hearts musing a single lay.
Down the alleys, betwixt moss grown walls,
With hopes galore and dreams anew,
On we walked to the edge of the world,
A pair of dots merging in infinite space.

When rain is gone and sky gets clear,
When night turns deeper and silence creeps,
I transverse back to that dusky eve,
To retrieve those moments, I sadly cherish!
 May 2016
South-by-Southwest
How do you get me excited ?
When the evening breeze tares
my thoughts of you .
When the mental images taxes
my reason of right and wrong
When your words tease
my desires for you .
When I just crave your touch .
When I wish to touch your face .
To press lips together ,
savoring your breath .
To sigh heartwise without
the disguise of fear .
Take eternal the heaven of hugs
from your breast .
To share dreams that dance
like phantoms in the flames
of eternal love .
Weild the wild luster
embedded in my soul
from the ages past .
Longing in depth's decisions ,
made and bled ,
for a future truth .
My how you excite me !
 May 2016
Abdullah Ayyash
A wish was made above the stars
Bring me the light from deep within
© Copyright
Abdullah Ayyash
February 25th, 2016
 May 2016
Abdullah Ayyash
My world is not like other worlds that sear
My world is more like heavenly wide sphere
My world has no bitter sadness nor tears of tear
My world has no lies to lie nor fears to fear

When I raise my eyes above all the mustiness,
My world has blue skies splattered with whiteness
My world has misty horizon fighting brightness
My world has huge trees carrying greatness

I’m all by my self ruling my world that never fades
Sitting with pride on top of my hill, from gold is made
Like a brave lion holding his shiny sharpened blades
Watching his river filled with precious valued preys
© Copyright
Abdullah Ayyash
17th of October, 2010
 May 2016
A Lopez
To some of my favorites-
Poets of course
I read your exquisites for appetite of my ears
I want to grow old with your writes
And **** your poetry
Up
With
M
     Y
Tears!

I have had robust days
And bust days.
I have felt heartbreak
And carbreak-
D
O
W
N
S!

But still in my good
Or bad, happy
Or
S
A
D....
I always come back to reading what you both
I
N spire
Me with.
You two
Are hello
Poet
Gifts.
Not to mention other top favorites I could have a Christmas list with those.
 May 2016
Forgotten Heart
I know that
If you knew
the pain
in waiting
you would
Never
let me wait
for you
I broke a painted *** that was a picture of me.
Then tried to glue it back together.
Piece by piece.
But try as I might,
I could not fix it.
I could not repair myself.
Cracks remained with wide gaps.
A little triangular piece was put in a random spot.
It just didn't fit.
The *** is finished...
but now cracked...
imperfect.
I could not repair it.
I could not fix myself.
But then...
a candle was put inside.
And a beautiful miracle shone
before my eyes.
A lovely, gentle light glowed forth
between the cracks.
Just like the Light of God...
the treasure within...
shines out through my brokenness.
I am a cracked ***,
made even more beautiful,
by God's Light shining through my cracks.
My imperfections.
My brokenness.
I am a vessel...
broken...
cracked...
for His Glory.
 May 2016
Torin
My world is flat
My faults are lines down contenintal divides
And I listen to the music

My hemisphere
Is mostly northern where I can see the stars
But not the galaxy

Still vibrations
From the metal strings that leave me calloused
Bring relief

My old friends
My angels on my shoulder
My fighting against a current
To reach an island

And all my lovers will be there
 May 2016
PJ Poesy
When I go into plank,
please realize this is not
my showing off yoga talent.
I am an epileptic. Please,
when I fall down convulsing
in your liquor store, which  
I only entered to buy a pop,
know I am not a drunk, so please
do not kick me in the head.
I am an epileptic. I know
how strange it seems to
watch a man go rigid, crash
wide-eyed face forward, ****  
and **** himself, make a stink
of public places. So please,
please do not scream at me.
I am an epileptic. I will
likely come to, but then
comes the *****. I am
sorry for that, more sorry  
than you could possibly be  
for me. My world is as such,
and I did not wish to intrude  
on your day. I will go away,
as soon as I gain faculties,
lift from murk some understanding
where I might be. Embarrassment
is not easy to carry, but I will
take it, stinking, slinking away.
I am an epileptic. I am
so very sorry.
It's true. I am an epileptic.
 May 2016
South-by-Southwest
I pick dandelions
in the early spring
when I think of you
She loves me . . .

I cut the rose blooms
in the summer morn
And I am pricked
by the remembrance of you

I walk in the autumn gold
as I shuffle with the agony
of the memory
Yes I do

Now in my winter's demise
I wrap the cloth of your smile
around the cold heart's desire
that I once had for you

There will be no dandelions
this spring
No roses this summer
No leaves of autumn's color
Without the smile of you
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