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Saint Audrey Oct 2017
Stupid stuff, looks like
A diamond in the ruff
Wrapped in cellophane
And spray painted gold

Did you find it
A little odd when you
Searched for your alarm clock
And found it silent
Sewn in your violent
Rage induce youth
Machinery ticking out
What time you still had left

Fighting tooth and nail
Got me in this mess
The Diamond glistens as I turn my head away
Fingers are blessed with venom still red
Burning my fingertips with dreams that I still replay

How they left when I dug deep in

I only wish that I could see my face
When
I found out the the change I needed
Wasn't something I could get

Fettered to the cause
Bought and found lacking but marred
By the dept I will own
Who dares atone with
Loans unpaid and hearts now repentant
I will die in iron
Finer than china
As the rust soaks in every bone

I am still saving
I've got so much left to save
I've come to face down the endless possibility

Each second ticks out
A weight bearing down
How we live like
This isn't something

Irreverence still speaks to me
Taunting
With chains soft enough
To make me forget that
I think
I am nothing
And Listlessness still loves me
Dragging me further
Through means of persistance

Ah, but
Am I wrong
...
Do I want to be

And some think the world will go up in flames
When everyone comes into work soaked in gasloline
And when I open the book of the saints
It will be stained with match books and empathy

What will stand
When it stands
What is stained
Burns clean

Life finds a way
To survive despite the simplicity
For the love of death
And/or all that is holy
For the love of what we
All took for granted
And wish less missed the mark
By more that a few inches
Luvanna Sep 2017
One body
One mind
Feelings stretched as if an old loose rubber band
At night, I would toss and turn
Toss and turn feeling the weight of the universe
In my shoulders
In the morning, I would feel less ******
As if the moonlight has ****** out my feelings completely
Left me only with the aftermath of my own war
An empty feeling
K Balachandran Sep 2017
Most sublime, the art of love is,
the inner worlds, it keeps churning.
At her I take a hard look; at once
I fully realize this,her lips tremble
like the fecund earth, awaiting seeds!

Eyes acquire a misty morn quality
that to her tell aloud "Look at him!
he is the one you had seen in a dream
and swooned, pained not knowing
where to find him,out side the dream"

That meta text's context quickly get
transferred, to my database of smells
warmth and endearing sounds,pout
of lips conveying multiple meanings;
my search runs exactly three seconds,
decides to cue her on the result,still not
open, an enigma it remains,but she gets it.

A twitch starts at that exact moment,
somewhere deep, that's all I can tell,
in us both it resonates, deep,  till we shake
uncontrollably like two leaves in a blizzard!

Her feet wear, two shoes made of wind,
and mine try to match their frenzied speed,
in course, rush , collide in a mid air embrace.
Two pairs of hungry lips, now need no words,
to see what just spontaneously, did happen
at nature's own, sweet, free, will, ethereal!
Robert Ronnow Jul 2017
If you see a hawk
on a bough at field's edge
beyond the corner you should have turned
maybe it's a sign to go on.

Such as during an improvisation on
Flamingo or I've Got You Under My Skin
you play in the wrong key or mode completely
maybe it's a sign to go on, in the wrong key.

Or when my sons cry not wanting
to be alone, I'm upstairs writing
or just enjoying trees in every direction
it too may be a sign to go on alone.
www.ronnowpoetry.com
K Balachandran May 2017
Calamari float,
changing tack,dive inwards quick,
life's contrary turns!
Druzzayne Rika May 2017
Type all the thoughts
Tenderness Torture
Trips that tries the tendencies
Tempts till the tricky turns
Traces the track to transition
Type these trending thoughts
Turn the trap on
Àŧùl May 2017
There are few bottlebrush trees here,
A couple grew in front of our house,
The entrance to our house they guard.

When it is season for them,
They bloom very lavishly,
Even striking is one's stem.

It was pecked upon by a woodpecker,
Thak-Thak-Thak, Thak-Thak-Thak,
The stem's bark finally gave away slowly.

By the end of October '06,
The hollow was readied,
The woodpecker moved in.

It gave shelter to the two birds initially,
The male & the female woodpeckers,
They stayed there for a complete season.

Saw their family grow,
From just the parents,
It even had chicks now.

The chicks grew fast under parental care,
I even listened to their infant chirping,
Saw the parents flying to get forage not so rare.

Then one day a snake slithered,
Until that hollow, it climbed,
The woodpeckers made a lot of noise.

They both screeched repeatedly,
But their cries were useless,
They could not scare away the snake.

The serpent then came out after few hours,
Now the crawling was sluggishly lazy,
Its mouth smeared with gooey young feathers.

The family had been destroyed,
An eerie silence shrouded the hollow,
The woodpecker chicks were dead.

Soon, an eagle had hunted the snake,
Hovering in the sky it spotted it,
Grabbed it when in the sunlight it basked.

Now the woodpeckers were gone,
Probably in search of a new tree,
A new tree where a snake won't come.

As for the tree's hollow,
It made a new home,
For a parrot species this time.

And time knows that change will descend,
Even the parrots will desert the hollow,
They will leave in search of the better greens.

Maybe a family of owls will come in the end,
It will be a long-time home, the hollow,
For owls are known to fill all the vacancies.
We live in a research institute campus since my infancy where I have been always so close to mother nature and I can chronicle the various avian species spotted here.

I guess that's life.

Give and take.

Like the birds in the hollow provide the tree with nutrients through their droppings.

But I wonder when I will be rewarded for my share of the good deeds done in life.

Karma is a *****.

My HP Poem #1526
©Atul Kaushal
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