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Lost in sweet melody
cool breeze through hair,
   the glow of fireflies
        lights the night air.

Two hearts interlocked
     a lovers stance,
          lost in the moment
a magical romance.

           Eyes meet eyes
in heartfelt bliss,
      enchanting moments
a soulful kiss.

Hearts beating as one
      lovers unite,
           under the luminous
soft moonlight.

       Time stands still
the melody plays on
         in flowered meadow
beneath the sun.
~
I took a little pill last night
           to help me fall asleep,
hoping and praying
           to release the strife I keep.

But, it didn’t work…..

So, I took a long walk last night
          out in the freezing rain,
hoping and praying
           it would wash away my pain.

But, it didn’t work….

So, I came back into the house
          so tired and cold,
looked up into a mirror
          realizing I looked so old.

So I sat down and cried….

As morning approached I was exhausted,
    a need to lay down my weary head,
I hoped and prayed for dreamless sleep
  away from my heartbreak and dread.

But sleep was broken by dreams
         and now I welcome a new day,
   starting all over again
a peaceful heart, mind, and soul is what I pray…..*
~
Love whispers upon a breeze
as I feel your soul touch mine,
savoring every sweet word
like the taste of honeyed wine.

Let the moon and stars witness
loves pure and greatest design,
as two souls come together
and gracefully combine.

Take me into your arms
embrace me through the night,
love me until dew soaked flowers
sparkle in the morning light.
~
 Oct 2017
Akira Chinen
We've been dumb-downed
to Hallmark Haiku poetry
that doesn't even follow form
or know what haiku is
other than some type
of Chinese or Asian or Nip crap
but don't worry were not being racist
because we have a friend
that has a subservient Japanese wife
who always has dinner ready
and doesn't mind bending over
and taking it up the ***
whenever he needs to get off at home
and she doesn't complain about
how or who he gets his happy endings
when out and about after office hours
and I wish I could be so blatantly
lewd and charming to walk up to anyone
and say whatever it is people say to someone
to get them to come home with them
and take off their clothes
and pretend to be looking for love
but only really care about
getting off at being normal
but I'm so painful shy
that I can't manage to talk whenever
an attractive stranger or even friend
sits a little too close
and my vocabulary is reduced
to one and two syllable sounds and head nods
and anything of importance
that I might want or have to say
gets locked in future regrets
of staring at the ceiling
somewhere in the darkness above my head
and life has turned into a media circus
of social update status *******
where hearts keep our ***** hard
and likes get our ******* wet
and even though none of us are truly alone
we all sit in our private cages digitally *******
to try and **** our feelings of loneliness
as we purchase sympathy cards
with cheap Hallmark Haikus pretending to look for love
 Sep 2017
Mike Marshall
On Sunday’s Canvas
our footprints sketch a path
across the sand.
Out of focus, others dot the beach.
Hands drawn tightly together,
our talk ebbs and flows.

This is Sunday’s Cove,
the rim where rivers end and tell their stories.
Afternoon sea and sky run together until
we are surrounded by what we feel.
Sand shines in a festive way.

Here at the edge of the world,
night is celebrated with wine in a water glass.
Beyond the surf, we do not hear the silence.
We wake every morning to brush new paths.
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