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Sylph May 2019
Left
Right
Black and white
through eyes
Light deformed
Creature taken flight
Eyes colorless
lost
broken
nothing
nothing
Nothing but Nothing

Empty
shamamama Jan 2019
"What's your birthstone?  
I don't know, Oh, I know--it's rock."

Black rocks baking in the sun
dot this beach
Like chocolate chips in the dough
They call to us
Come climb,
Come hop on us
Find treasures hidden behind and between
All our dark shadows,

Lying as still as stone
A large rock shape,
Oh, it's grayer
and duller,
and there's sand sprinkled on it,
And it's moving!
It's Living Rock,
The monk seal napping
from its morning meal.

Yes- we watch others walk right by him
caught in their words,
Unaware of the living amongst the rocks,
Living Rock doesn't care
His belly is full

Gray sleek shape
massaged by the wind
with feast in your belly,
So mighty tired!
You taste your sleep for days,
Clouds cover the day's starlight you seek,
Your body begs for light, and yet
Nobody can wake you from your slumber
Not even the high pitched voices
of children playing
nor the fishing lines in and out of the tide

What of your dreams
Oh Large Gray Rock
Do you dream of the ocean tossing
Fish  into your mouth?
Or of the warm sun coming
to bake your skin?

The salt water dances up your nostrils,
You lift your head in mild protest
Then let it rest on your
Ancient bed of coral and shell bones
My feet love to dig into your bed

No insomnia for you sea creatures,
Maybe I should count monk seals
Instead of sheep when I want to sleep,
Your body clock measures time
Not in days or hours
But in meals, in hunts
In fullness, in emptiness
Your sleep is well earned
My friend

We can learn from you.
You bask, dream,
Then awaken renewed
To taste your ocean again,
Rock, monk seal, ocean,  beach, renewal
Ashley Jan 2019
Docile creatures do persuade
My body bend and provide aid
To settle debts long since repaid
Bones do choose to crack and sway
So devotions come then fade away
Suffer the same and come what may
For docile creatures I've policed
I am not one who can tame beasts.

Docile creatures oft believe
Maidens chained do yearn to leave
Yet freedom can be cause to grieve
Teeth of beasts do gnash and grind
Til there's nothing tender left behind
I'll hide any light they find
Since docile creatures do not feast
I shall be devoured by a beast.

I have but I would rather give
I want not to end but to want to live
Yet docile creatures won't forgive
Those of us who turn up eyes
To receive crowns of stars from night skies
And listen to what the west winds may advise
As sure as the Lord smiles from the east
I could learn to love a beast.
Max Southwood Jan 2019
When the sun has gone to sleep
And ghosts have had their time to creep
Imps and goblins awaken to
Do the things that monsters do
IncholPoem Jan 2019
Eleven  days
eleven   cricket  players
were  arranged.



   So   what  is  the
          
        stopping  problem
that  could   not  help
to  restart  the  game.



  
    Football   players
   past   days

    with  playing
cricket   players
are  coming   back.


2  hands  will  make
human -creatures
who  will   do
so  practice
as  may  as  50
  times.
thesa Jan 2019
night is my time
moist and silent
the only time
i feel safe enough
to let out my thoughts
these crippled beasts
that long for blood
Bryce Nov 2018
Two golden finches
Take breadcrumbs from open hands
Resting in a palm.
Isaac Nov 2018
Compared to most creatures,
Our life on Earth is long.
The question is will we
Live full and finish strong?
Written 12 November 2018
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