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 Aug 2020
Joel M Frye
Casting my craft out
upon creation's shallows;
pray to pull in art.
 Aug 2020
Khoisan
Drop a penny
or add a pound
a moment with Ludwig
will give it a sound
a true voice to the voiceless
the blind see and the deaf hear
Beauteous clouds hang upon the sinking deep,
    Ineffably in coats with no stain upon ‘em seen.
Susurrus zephyrs evermore chime and sweep,
  Through leaves bedight in hues of golden green.

Susurrus leaves rhythmically sway and sway
     To the susurration of the wild blue yonder.
Fugacious clouds enrich every fading day
     In opalescent hues upon heaven’s shore.

Salubrious flowers waft ethereal scent upon air,
  A scent of Elysium on earth, a scent of loveliness.
Lugubrious seas call it a soothing balm so fair,
  And softly whisper comely olden tales of the seas.

Splendiferous olden golden hills roll evermore,
  Wanderin’ olden rills peregrinate here and there,
Whilst whisperin’ euphonious murmurs of yore;
  Such—such mellifluous music unto a naked ear.

In the emerald state, upon every river bank
   There groweth exquisite merry flowers of gold,
All flowers of novelty beauty—all wild and rank.
  In the emerald state—pulchritude is all to behold.


©Kikodinho Edward Alexandros,
Evergreen State, August 16th 2020.
P.S
The sublime nature of the Evergreen state hath compelled poetry ink to ooze from my quill once again. For in the evergreen state, if pulchritude be a river, then pulchritude there is in full spate. Hope thou hast enjoyed my ode.

I wholeheartedly dedicate this poem unto all folks of the Evergreen State for keeping her so beautiful by planting exquisite flowers everywhere and preserving her nature. What really took me so long to cross over to the PNW Lol?So much beauty here that many a time mine eyes dost slaver with ecstasy.❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
 Aug 2020
Chelsea Rae
Your ideas of grandeur
Don't do you any favors
And if anything they only hinder.

Reality poking holes
In the big picture
You imagined;
Making it only
Half as great as you thought.

Sometimes I wish I could fight
The escapist in me.

The part of me
living off of daydreams.
Shooting the stars into my veins
Like straight ******.

Creating bigger and bigger ideas
Because the starry night makes us feel like the world is so big and expansive that maybe someone like you could be destined to change it all.

My, my...
How wrong you are.

You're such a small insignificant speck that the universe would swallow you whole and not even think twice about it.

But you keep dreamin'..
Because we both know you'd never survive without that at least.
#olddrafts
 Aug 2020
Seán Mac Falls
.
Seasons shuttle the tall stoic figure,
Graceful and solemn as wafted mist,
When seen, as if he was always there,
Overarching into meek, gloamy skies
Of mornings and dusk, mid day, lost,
Seems not right for wading out kills
That crane from above into the mud
And murk of the penny eyed waters
Only the ferryman will tender, for time
Slips, sleeping with the fishes, spears
Puddle and rim in the wakes, sparks
Of waters break like a sputtering fire,
His dart eyes are as yellow as golden
Sun dancing in funeral pyre.  So green
Creatures, must they always be gotten,
Gone, have it coming from the sheering,
Mercies of the Great Blue Heron who is all
Seeing, scything, down to dazed judgement,
Incited, pecking to order at the squirming fold.
.
 Aug 2020
Hadrian Veska
Here we stand
At the edge of all things
A shell of who we once were
Scraped of all our secrets
Barren and exposed
To who we could become
Don't fight it but accept it
The voice holding you back
Is not one with your own
It is the last dying breath
Of your weaknesses and shame
Step forth into the light
For it is no longer blinding
And the path ahead
Has been at last made clear
Go now into that unknown
Knowing now nothing
Of your once foolish ways
 Aug 2020
Seán Mac Falls
(sonnet)

Tired, I awoke upon a lonely island beach
And gazed on a Goddess above the shore,
With sea foam hair, coral skin, what dream,
My salt eyes, blinded, open, wanting more,

Conspiring with rays of summer she shone
So bright, this daughter of the sun, we stood
I and my castaway crew, to that siren prone
As she led us to her mansion in the woods.

Her potions tamed the forest wolf and lion,
Spellbinding warrior poets to liven feasts.
Why then must she turn ***** men to swine,
By what she most desired contented least?

Desert falcon, my moly held Pharaohs' breeze
And what nil escape above the wine dark seas.
.
The name 'Circe' means 'falcon.'  She was a beautiful woman, whose braided red hair resembled flames.
In Greek mythology, Circe was a goddess of magic (or sometimes a nymph, witch, enchantress or sorceress). By most accounts, Circe was the daughter of Helios, the god of the sun.
Circe was renowned for her vast knowledge of potions and herbs. Through the use of magical potions and a wand or a staff, she transformed her enemies, or those who offended her, into animals.

As told in the Odyssey, Hermes told Odysseus to use the holy herb moly to protect himself from Circe's potion and thus resisted it.
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