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 Sep 2016
Sourodeep
Ink
Scratching for quite some time
on this blank white page,
my emotions flow
shine and glow
till the emptiness
imbibes my thoughts
like raindrops after a **drought.
I love fountain ink pens :)
 Sep 2016
Matthew Harlovic
this morning i watched
a cigarette drop from
the pocket of a man
onto the floor of the
train. it rained earlier
and bits of dew and
dirt drained into the
cracks, but there lay
the cigarette intact.
i could have reached
for this man and told
him how he misplaced
the nail to his coffin,
yet i said nothing and
let him off coughing.

© Matthew Harlovic
 Sep 2016
jeffrey conyers
Shoot a cop and instantly reasons will be served to why you was killed?
Shoot a suspect and instantly logic will be conjured up too.
If truth be told.

News, will plant their opinions on you according to links of their connection of forces.
If truth be told.

Officers, are trained to remain quiet and let officers administrative spin the story.
Now , on the other hand if you wound one of them.
You was a threat to the officer safety.
You reached for a gun.
You pose a threat in various ways.

Shame, shame that rage reached to any community to respond with hatred.
But many aware the time would rise that others would decides to roar up and spotlight rage with a gun.
If truth be told.
 Sep 2016
Dark n Beautiful
She had just finish smoking the ****,
Then she decided to write a poem about smoking the joint
Or was it before she wrote the poem, or after she smoke the ****
Was the poem triggered by the ****, or did the **** triggered a write?
Does it matter now, after she rolled the **** into written words and smoke her ideas.
  

Al Cash once wrote that
*My soul absorbs you, my mind inhales your essence, and you confirm my life.” *
She usually took an aspirin after a terrible headache
But thinking out loud now she should have taken the aspirin before the headache
Or before she smoke the ****, that lead to the write
That eventually brought about the poem, which causes a migraine
Now her body reacts to the Drunken Sailor Syndrome
So once again never swallow a spider to **** a fly: just purge.

Never write a poem while smoking the ****,
Poetry is life natural high, an untimely wave that never
Cease to amaze us.
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