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Nicholas Slater Feb 2017
I follow the path through the sunlit trees to you
this moment shining,
cool breeze tickling skin,
birds singing I love you
dew grass glistening in the light
breath in I feel energy
nature's beauty all around me
as I think of kissing you, holding you
making love to you
your body meeting mine
skin on skin
like the first time
I opened my eyes
Sasha Ranganath Feb 2017
screaming at the top of my lungs won’t help anymore
because i’m always going to return to a home
which waits for me in a spectrum of disappointments and crises.

what good is a blade to the arm going to do
when blood won’t erase the permanent scars that already exist
and my ears ring with screams of my abandoned past.

i believed i could indulge in trustfall
but that only made my trust fall
even further down the vortex
of mistake after mistake after mistake
am i incorrigible.

am i incorrigible i ask my reflection in the mirror
and the mirror breaks.
it crumbles, shatters and breaks
and tells me to go away.

another year of existence goes by
my existence that’s caught in a cobweb of broken promises
and hands that were let go of.
“happy birthday”
congratulations, you’ve lived to see another day.

you’ve lived to see another day but in what way
in what way will you move
in what way will you rescue yourself
from love across continents,
four thousand four hundred and eighty three miles away
how will you save yourself from drowning
in the width between your stretching fingers and the blade
how will you stop hurting yourself
by assuming responsibility and clinging on to false longevity.
you cross your own limits too ******* often
too ******* often to even notice that the line exists.

take a ******* break
you don’t need to keep polishing
your heart of gold
you don’t need to keep ripping
your sanity apart for a couple of approving nods
you don’t need to say yes to everything
you see because you need to be free,
you are not in a pod
and you are not a pea.

you’re hearing voices, noises
uncontrollable, you’re not okay
and that’s okay.
but how do i survive
when the one i love
can’t even look me in the eyes
and say it’ll be fine
how can i live in peace
when time moves so ******* slowly
and the me that loved the sunlight
is craving for long nights
that dim light in the corner
is the closest i'll ever get
to loving the sunrise.
William Daniel Jan 2017
In the hue of a spring afternoon,
Where the bright whites splotched
Saturated with oranges and yellows,
The blur of green bled through,
And came into focus, came into view.

Sat there, in front of the house,
Bottom-framed with stone,
The tree itself stood by
In all its humble roots.

He came to know every family that moved
In and out over the years,
And through all strengths of weather he stayed
To live another day; day after day.

It was around this time of year, however
The waving breeze flips and turns around his leaves
On the branch ends with a knowing gesture.
The orange and yellow sunlight rays flicker through
Projecting its shadowed figures across the trunk,
And the light show in between.

The tree enjoyed it all,
The only time of the year it saw itself again.

And it would only see itself again, day after day,
Day after day.
Amanda Kay Hill Jan 2017
Open the windows
and seeing the
Sunlight shine in
and hitting the floor
Sunlight
Sunlight
Open the windows
and seeing the
Sunlight shine in
and hitting the floor
is so calming seeing
the sunlight reflection
on the floor is so peaceful
I love seeing the sunlight
and my dog sunbathe
in the sunlight.
© Amanda Kay Hill
10/29/16
George Krokos Jan 2017
There was sunlight pouring down
in the park and on the ground
where it could also be seen
the grass had a brighter sheen.
All the shadows that were cast
would for a while yet still last
and the beauty of  that sight
was distinguished in the light.
______
Written early in 2016 to go with a graphic art piece posted elsewhere on the 'net.
Morning walk in semi-sun.
Light gilds the last
of the figs, high up
on the branches,
burnishing them the bronze
of new pennies.

At the end of the year,
when all the months'
deeds, lessons, things done,
undone, the words uttered and not,
lie at my feet,
I exhale into light.

I wonder what
this day will bring?
Luka D Dec 2016
details slip through busy fingers
but still warm the wistful touch
and time over-exposes memory
like a photograph left in the sun

so I don't recall what you wore
or the music we played that day
or where we were driving from
or the photographer counting down...

but I remember the flashbulbs when you held me:
the way they spun your hair gold
and star-bursted my vision
like we were the models of love

and this is picture proof
that the sunlight captured our moment
and I haven't forgotten what you said,
"write a poem about this."
Phoebe Hynes Dec 2016
You came to me in what I thought was a dream,
but it was actually the mundane,
and the secrets my conscious brain,
was keeping from me.

You were a part of reality all along,
it's just taken me a bit to realize it.
Sunlight can be blinding,
and raindrops are more obvious.
Aditi Dec 2016
It is all about the thing that is the last whisper you hear  before you sleep.
It is all about the lingering feeling of a soft kiss on your lips before you snuggle the night away in his arm.
It is all about the random tide that hits you making you realise how much you're loved,
Like a silent sky people forget about sometimes but is always there when you look up.
It is all about the numbing chilly breeze on a wintery midnight, that makes you feel so much,
The roads and surroundings covered in orangish pink hues,  slowly humming to themselves, luring you in a trance.
It is all about the soft wintery moon smiling down at you,
Or the science exams that bring out your artistic streaks
It is about those moment of tranquillity where every piece falls into the places they belong.
It is all about the stains you get after laying in the grass early morning
Each dew drop looks like a twinkling sun of their own.
It is about getting to taste heaven in your favorite flavor,
And enjoy the sun  kiss your skin.
It is all about nani maa oiling your hair and your mother's eyes twinkling,  while she says you're such a spoiled  kid.
It  is about the hope that someone else  will get the door.
It is all about fluffy socks,  sweater with hand drawn patterns
It is all about flushed cheeks, freezing hands in your friend's pocket
Like the snow flakes that fall,
Unique in their own way,
Every season with itself brings
Its own flavor and shades,
And though summer is well known for  lighting a wildfire  in everyone's heart,
And adrenaline rush of first love,
Winter stands elegantly,  and let things run into a deeper course.
Winter is the best time for sneaking into balcony at midnight and enjoying the stillness and world bathed in an oranges hues.
Tasha Nov 2016
Sunlight,
hazy through the curtains,
bridges the gap between our worlds
and our realities gently collide for a moment,
as we lay together,
only being.

I’m not sure who you are,
or where it is you go to inside your mind,
but i’d follow you there if i could,
and sit at the back,
quietly,
wondering why
even your light
is so heavy.

We are tangled here,
you and i,
inside this Wednesday morning,
and although i have no words to give you,
i would stay here by your side,
indefinitely,
as long as your body is against mine
and your fingers are on my neck,
softly setting me on fire
in the most pleasant
of ways.
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