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 Feb 2015
SøułSurvivør
---:::---:::---

O how can I stand the pain
How can I rearrange
My bones set... and yet so strange
My mind itself becomes deranged

I break... I break... I BREAK...
... my own bones...

O darkness... estranged friend...
it's stolen pathways wind and wend
I've come back to try again
I have come to make amends...

... for something I didn't do...

I perceive the ocean vast
Through my eyes of eisinglass
I run my race on razor grass
With bare feet I make this pass...

I see... I see... I SEE...

,,, through a mask...

... of solid glass...


SoulSurvivor
(C) 2014
I wrote this poem for a friend.
She was having a rough time.
She gave me the inspiration for
some of the metaphor in this piece.

---:::---:::---
~Christi Michaels~February 2015~
~ω~⊙~ω~

I will not cry
repeat
I will not die
assure
Over and over
Till my heart misses a beat
And all I have held so dear
Year after year
Now falls apart with every
single tear


~ω~ω~⊙~ω~ω~
Copyright © 2015 Christi Michaels.
All Rights Reserved
The Breaking of A Tender Loving Heart
 Feb 2015
Jamie King
She is
The heart of poetry,
The cynosure in art,
The spirit of love
That renews honesty.
More precious than
Jewels of God,
mesmerising
arch angels in the centre of heaven having more love than two hearts combine, she's alive and so are we as she imbues us with her life.

The roof is only a foundation, the sky above our heads is the ground beneath her feet and still she is down to earth.

The sun reside within her chest, glistering as she stands, with eyes made of pearls gaze into them and witness fields of elation emerge,where harmony is the ying and melody the yang.
Cat is great a friend, she really cares. Thank you Cat for being everything that you are to all of us. I really appreciate it and I'm sure everyone else who knows you does as well.
 Feb 2015
Frecky Rosa
Her body spoke of him.
His mind spoke of her.

Their hearts didn't speak to each other.
 Feb 2015
SøułSurvivør
~~♡~~♥~~♡~~


"Hush little baby, don't you cry,
mama's here for you only
and tomorrow she will buy
all the pretty little ponies

black and brown
tan and roan
all the pretty little ponies"

lullaby sung by my mother
when I was a child



there I lay
at end of the day
safe in my mother's arms
she had a voice
so soft and low
I succumbed to its charms

I don't remember
her grey eyes
so full of care and pain
I recall her dear soft breast
and those sweet refrains

later on in life I found
she was very ill
mood swings plagued her
all her days
and then they had no pill.

she was not a
stable mom
she was always up or down
but she tried the best she could
when she was around

I won't forget her lilting voice
though she was in despair
she made those ponies
twirl and dance
to show her child

she cared.


soulsurvivor
2/7/2015
My mom has not been feeling well.
If you are of a mind,
please pray for her.

Thanks

~~♡~~♥~~♡~~
 Feb 2015
Kirui Frank Junior
Love like real
Doves who act real
Together like one
For truth you are one
Behaving lovebirds
Innocent like two lovely birds
Wasting time together
Because each is for the other
For you love each other
And you only 'know' each other .
Call it affectionate
For really it is affectionate.
I wrote four years ago,in my form three.I still see the sense in the wordings.
 Feb 2015
Nirali Shah
Lost in the city lights
Are small palms
Are little feet
Are muddy faces
Of children of a thousand unknown names
Those palms holding a bunch of 5 rupee roses.
And feet scurrying about amongst the traffic signals
Selling their future to wipe your car's windows
And muddy faces serve you
While their childhood
Brews in your cup of chai.
February6,2015
 Feb 2015
Kirui Frank Junior
Let's come together against CANCER!
Let there be a stand still
The world be rendered silent for a moment
Three second to fill
For a short kind benevolent
Because we really have to feel
Our fallen heroes to comment
Cancer brought this world a threat
That which is a not one man fight
It came in all filth
Pain untold
Torture and suffering
This ailment is poison
Whose antidote we fight to get
Let's join HANDS
Let's go firm together
We need a global unity
To aid Forster for one hidden secret
The secret to **** this enemy
This sole enemy we call it cancer
It has won over us for long
Enough is enough we say today
We are fed up
We are tired,aren't we?
We won't stand any lose again
We won't settle for less this time
We are up to fight
And we are fighting together as one
For in our might, we gonna defeat cancer
Whatever the kind or type
Known to us or unknown
Cancer's territories this time down we bring
And burning it to ashes a must.

Kirui Frank junior
Kenya,I am fighting cancer in my all might!
Join me please!
Let's be felt
This is our belt
Like one
Let's act one
And present
The world this my present
It belongs to you all
A poets hole,if you fall
 Feb 2015
Ally
It's because even fairytales
has an end
And no one really knows
what would happen next.
 Feb 2015
K Balachandran
Fire is in his eyes, in the pit of his belly and  *****,
a fire ball he is, zooming through the sky of desire,
the longing for her transforms in to a roaring fire
within him, it untiringly rages, slowly gets sublime

It warmed him, blood coursed in force through
the veins like a river full of molten lava, with a mind,
he was blazing his trail, with accelerating creative urge
lovers of beauty saw him as a firefly of high skies
brightening  vast expanses of inner sky, like none else did
she was the serendipitous spark lighted him thus
the fuel that propels, the 'anima' behind his phenomenal drive

He was burning to find a moment to commemorate,
this fire, his desire for her, not a bit less even after all these years
unexpectedly she appears, at the moment that thought occurred,
she smiled, it's radiance fell in to his psyche, froze as a golden idol,
Wasn't it what he desired? She getting etched as the spirit of a smile!
 Feb 2015
Brandy Nicole
Writing so simple and yet complex.
What drives people to put words to a page? Is it hope... madness?
Perhaps is simply an escape, both for readers and author.
            For me writing is not
            merely making an esc-
            ape from reality, but a
            realization of it. To
            make you ponder, look
            around. See the world
            for what it is.
Years I questioned myself, what is my calling? My contribution to the world? Is it my undying thirst for knowledge or a drive for betterment.
Perhaps a teacher to those in need.

I write... write to reach people. To write the dark twisted truths and fears of those who don't.
Writing a simply complex form of sharing your soul to another.
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