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 Nov 2017 Tatiana
cptims
November
 Nov 2017 Tatiana
cptims
november rain
brings so much pain
now that you're gone
the birds will sing a song
as you're welcomed to the light
we'll weep into the night
although it'll be sappy
all that matters is that you're happy
love & miss you mamaw
 Nov 2017 Tatiana
Amanda Shelton
Foreboding is the ghost
lingers on forgotten smoke
( and words we forgot to speak).

A life is like a candles flame,
it burns until the candle melts
to the floor, its smoke lingers
for just awhile longer.

A poet reminds us of the ghost
who they were and how they lived.
We are able to capture what lingers
through the night moaning loudly
for attention.

It inspires a book.

**© 2017 By Amanda Shelton
 Nov 2017 Tatiana
PaperclipPoems
I danced in the middle of grand central station
Because that’s where I felt the most inspiration
Weaving my body through the flood of generations
Imagining all this stone in bright decorations
Twisting and curving, collecting strange adoration
A brief affair from strangers prior to transportation
Where do you go when you’re lost, needing stimulation?
A place to be you, exploring liberation
A space to let go of all fears and reservation
Where history is elegantly fused with current modernization
I thought it was a home where my soul may take haven
But I was urged by a workman to leave the location
So much for my soul’s salvation
Often, these dreams pierce the veil,
between sadness and bliss.
Armies cross
bliss is defenseless
I wake up cold

My steps feel the weight of the stone floor
out to the window, my dreams take me…
Even awake, dreams command my vision.

The world is blind to me and I am blind to the world.
They do not bear my dreams and I do not know their torment.

If they knew my dreams,
they would carry me forward
hands on my hand
we move the bricks together
sight for sight
blindness for blindness
dreams for truth

The strange warmth of fellowship fades in loneliness,
as if it were antidote… or poison.
Still, the memories linger
sparking
yearning to blaze
but they cannot provide warmth
for they are dreams
and fires must feed on flesh.

The armies continue to pour
from somberness into bliss
the fires wink out softly
my eyes dull; my dreams fade.

And for once, I see what they all saw…

Darkness.
So, this poem ends on a dark note, like many of my poems, but it's the type of note that I'm not sure about.
Still, what I am sure of is, the message is about conformity and losing sight of ideals in place of stasis, or regression.
Things like, "I don't give a f**k."
Or, "I can't be bothered."
Even, "F**k you and the horse you rode in on."
These can be funny to consider, especially in a movie.
However, in real life, the tone is different:
it's why "motive" is so important to a police investigation.
If someone cheats on you, is it because you were an *******,
or was it because the person is an unabashed cheater who lied to you, every, day?
Boo-hoo, right?
That's what I wanted to touch on in this poem.

So, without further ado...
Enjoy!

DEW
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