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 May 2015
Sjr1000
There is exquisite beauty
out
in the gardens of delight.
Apologies to Heirmonyious Bosch.
 May 2015
Leigh
A droplet in a cave echoes the
impact that I've made;
A life of dribbled
lime it takes
to lay this
path of
mine.

.

As
dark
throbbing
waves wash
out the resonance
I crave - That steady, stoic
drop too forms the biding end atop.
.
Time drips slowly by.

Also, this rhyming business is getting fun!
.
 May 2015
ryn
.

you are
|the lone guardian•|
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
||        ­                   ||
||           ><           ||
||                           ||
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

standing regal over-
looking the ocean •
as your light spears
far over the echoing
ripples•i must have
misread your beckon
-ing signals•they had
warned me of impen-
ding doom •  should i
come too near to where
deadly rocks loom• but
strangely enough, i find
myself drawn   so much
closer• like a siren's call
that  could not  sing any
sweeter•now it's too late
to even look back  •   i am
now before you under skies
of black•torn asunder by the
ravenous rocks hidden below
• still I'm mesmerised by your
enchanting glow  • waters here
have been the      grave of many
hulls and bows • but...these last
few moments it's just me and you
••••as my love, my beacon,••••
••••••••my lighthouse••••••••
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
••••••••••••••­••••••••••••••••
 May 2015
South-by-Southwest
Let love's sunset into my heart
With sullen greys tinged in pink
With last rays of warmth
Before there comes the chill

Let the last breath of fulfillness
Ease around my heart
Take away the sunny memories
Softly as the light fades away

Fading fast empty embraces
And kisses that have no taste
As softly whispered I love yous
Fall into the Atlantic sea

Come nightness surround now
My empty heart
Console my ache and care
So come now , sunset of my heart
 Apr 2015
South-by-Southwest
They fall . . . gold ,

         bronze . . . copper . . . and brass

Jeweled like glass

         'n emerald . . . ambered . . . and rubied

The days of my life

         fall autumned . . .

               sudden . . . and fast
 Apr 2015
ryn
Blue is the boulder overlooking the bay
Loosely pocked by weather-worn stains
Unwavering guardian of all that lay
Enigmatic yet silently screaming its pains

Blue is the reflection dancing playfully
Laid generously by the twilight moon
Upon the vast canvas of the darkened sea
Elated ripples readily accepting such a boon

Blue is the halo encircling the moon
Lavish circlet gifted by the sun
Unnoticed by eyes that slumbered too soon
Evading the sands of time that run

Blue is the silhouette of a lone sailboat
Lurching and bobbing by will of the waves
Unknowingly catching the zephyrs that float
Eluding the fingers from watery graves

Blue is the man; perched upon the boulder
Lapping up the stars mirrored upon the sea
Usurped heart of his had never sung drearier
Ensnared by woeful wonderment...
                                           *
*that man is me...
He’s no musician.
He doesn't make melodies through violin and guitar strings.
Yet he composed, haunting ballads in dramatic tempos,
Rhyming every lyric,
Harmonizing, making it dance in a musical euphony.

He’s no seamster.
Yet he cuts and he traces,
plain words and printed phrases;
Then he sews and he weaves it skilfully,
into a lovely concrete poetry.

He’s no painter.
He just has a palette of pigmented letters,
splashing colorful lines on his blank canvass.
A blast of contained evocative memories,
Streaking and shading mixtures of kaleidoscopic imagery.

He’s no storyteller.
Yet from him, I heard the most romantic tales-
One, of the moon and its lover sea.
Reciprocating shy glances, whispering I love you’s,
while kissing behind the sprawling mountains.
Though the dawn will come, they do not fear.
For after the majestic tribal sun leaves his stage,
There’ll the lovers be once again reunited.

He's no poet.**
Yet he writes--
stanzas and verses.
And oh! it revives,
every strand of emotion,
every sense of intuition,
Inside me.
A lyrical perception,
Sheer perfection,
Arousing perpetual reactions,
From me.
I am not good at this. I just want to express my pure gratitude, appreciation and awe for you.

"I am no poet. Never thought of myself as one. Just a guy dabbling clumsily in words"
Yet even, everything you do amaze me.


Thank you all wonderful people on Hello Poetry. I just realized this moment that this poem was featured as Daily poem yesterday.  I have never imagined any of my work will be posted as daily. Thank you all for the hearts, re-post,share, comments and messages. You really made my heart and soul so happy. :)
And most of all, thanks to the man who inspire me to write this one. :)
(04.14.2015)
 Mar 2015
Just Melz
There's no hope in a mountain of regret
         Yet,
             we keep on climbing
    And piling it higher
                and higher
     Hoping to reach the top
                Knowing all we'll see
    Is the smoke floating
           from bridges we've burned
     And a  t r  a   i   l
                  of mistakes
   Leading to the lessons
             we thought we learned
     But regret has a funny way of sneaking up on you
            Thinking you're in the clear
     Making a run for it
Then smashing right into
       that MOUNTAIN you built out of fear
    Looking back is easier than looking ahead
           Cause there's nothing left to fear
            If you're *already dead...
 Mar 2015
Andrew Owens
I can't think of anything without being guilty
my mind is ***** and my hands are filthy
like a **** as pretty as a flower that is wilting
keep digging me more holes I'm always filling

my innocence is like a child you left at the store
and didn't realize until you got home
sorry is all you'll ever be when I don't want you anymore
without you I'm just me and I don't mind being alone
 Mar 2015
Star G
As I reach for you
time and time again,
you surprise me
with just how
perfect you are.

You're the fleeting
dream in which
I cannot grasp.

You're so close
yet so far away.

And as you blind
my vision, I
don't realize the
damage you inflict
upon me.

And as I leave
the others to
sail by themselves,
your green light
is all I see,
your expensive voice
is all I hear,
your soft lips
are all I taste,
your short-lived love
is all I feel.

As a piercing pain and
a diluted red envelop me,
I reach out to what
I desperately believe in.

And as I sail
to the end of
the world, I
forget my fellow
yet poetic sailor.

Never knowing
the pain I cause
my poor old sport.
This is a poem about The Great Gatsby, in Gatsby's POV.
 Mar 2015
Walter W Hoelbling
she had promised

   he kept waiting

he knew it would be
   late

and kept himself busy
fighting against
   the lump he felt
   beginning to form
   in his chest
when long after midnight
the phone continued
not to ring

he thought of
how she would enjoy
exhilarating company
   and be happy

in the end
when her voice
   would come
across thousands of miles
exhausted yet pleased
he would swallow hard
and simply tell her
"I love you"
 Feb 2015
Sia Jane
Learning the art of absent love
she absorbs herself with a
perspective only to be seen through
the glasses of rose tinted sunlit skies

Planting seeds of love
she lays amidst meadow fields
staring at pastel palettes

Drifting motions as, her hand lifts
her finger tracing clouds
as painting upon a clear canvas
where her art knows no boundaries

Singing herself lullabies
her soul fed by stardust
her eyes wavering, flickering
& finally closing, into a dreamscape
of mysterious lucidity

Her longing eased, escapism from
a skipping heartbeat bleeding for attachment,
awaiting the blooming of flowers
which follow a winter of freezing hearts
now pining to thaw.

© Sia Jane
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