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 Feb 2015 Naomie
Frecky Rosa
Let's ban poetry because it
Heals wounds without prescription,
Break borders without permission,
Adds beauty without makeup,
With words all so made up!
 Feb 2015 Naomie
Seán Mac Falls
Full moon and she  .  .  .
Beauties without crescent smile,                                                           ­             
  .  .  .  Naked in starlight.
 Feb 2015 Naomie
Sia Jane
“I’m in love with everyone I’ve ever met in one way or another.
I’m just a crazy, unhinged disaster of a human being.”*

Edie Sedgwick

---

                                                  ­                               I am the undone woman,
                                                                ­      mistaking myself
                                                          ­                      for the girl,
                                                                ­               others always see,
                                                            ­                  even at the call of my name
I most often, walk away

                                                           ­                       I rise & fall with the tides
                                                           ­                       standing in the abyss
                                                           ­                      shedding tear drops alone
                                                           ­                      gazing at black skies;
a full snow moon

I am a piece of the sky
a jigsaw puzzle
completing this Universe
I too inhabit

I am the cracked mirror
shattered pieces;
seven years bad luck
but as the cat,
I have nine lives
of counter attack

I am all the lovers
who pass through me
caresses that have graced
my inner thigh, the ecstasy
we reach simultaneously
during the love we make



In the absence of another
pieces of myself dilute,
I only know myself
by the ink I bleed
as I write these words
you read.

I am your canvas,
a picture book
coloured outside the lines
you call me your art

&, when,
the coffin door
closes shut,
you will know
I am nothing more,
than a Factory Girl,
misidentified as;
a thousand forms of fear.

© Sia Jane
Age Is Just A Number

Age is just a number
So refuse to act your age
Reach that point in your life
You don't care what others say

Do what makes you happy
What keeps you young inside
As long as it hurts no one else
Just go and live your life

Date those that are younger
Or older if you choose
Pick the path that you take
The one that best for you

Don't look back and then wonder
On things you should have done
Do all the things that you want
And begin to have some fun

Age is just a number
So refuse to act your age
Reach that point in your life
You don't care what others say

Age is just a number


Poem by: Carl Joseph Roberts
Please add to a few collections and help it trend if you like. Thanks.
~~
Southern winds have gone away
The music player has hanged
When playing the last romantic song

The Chill North wind is Sigh of yours
Has grown the pale Afternoon
How stupid the fade trees Standing!

Distant garden flower's Petals
Wither,
Helpless,
Careless

Midnight dew
Create the illusion of Sound
Nearby Lamppost,
Standing in the dim light fog
Alone,
Retreat
As the Calling Owl of the Night

Smokes of Cigarette lost in the Shadow
Putting the day,
Slowly vanish before
As the Mist
 
Along the road that you have left
Looked at me Surprisingly
Opening the door,
Just want to scream for unknown reasons
Once Again
~~
@Musfiq us shaleheen
As the Calling Owl of the Night
/
dear poet/poetess
if like share your comments/ repost that inspire me..
/
 Feb 2015 Naomie
Shannon
Rotted soul of good intention,
mine is an apple core
on an old black road
in a holy heat.
Sinner, slow down!
Sinner stop your dancing
and start praying
for your people
-mmmyes-
that they start praying
for you
child.
'Cause it's gonna take a churchyard full
of bake sales,
mmmhmm
and it's gonna take a winter full of galoshes by the church door
whoowee,
it's gonna take a village to save you, child.
Heathen, pull your skirt down!
stop them hips swaying left, slooow,
swaying right, sloooow
as you walk down that dirt road kicking up dust
like you was a young colt running.
Oh it's gonna take a lot saving,
Yessum, it's gonna take a lake a dunking...
Oh but Lord! It's gonna take a lot of praying,
Hallelujah, gonna need a lot of rosaries
to save your eternal life, girl
I am as rotten as a pit of peach,
dried and without yield. no value, no good.
Child, it's gonna take a revival to save this soul.
Mama, start that revival and save your babies soul.


sahn
2/6/15
....m

this piece started out slow, but has gained momentum and as always, it's a piece i love so thanks and as i once again find myself: i am always honored and grateful when people support my work by indicating if they liked it and comment with any suggestions or to say hi.
we think  tat then
are making us comfortable
BUT the black truth
is.........................................
then are using us
#hurt #feelings
# need u #love u
 Feb 2015 Naomie
Sophie Herzing
In high school, I used to crawl
past my dad’s side of the bed so I could whisper,
at midnight, to my mom that I was leaving
and going to your place, and that I’d be back
by five in the morning, because I was that good girl
in the knee-high socks with the headband
that matched my uniform. So, I told my mom
that I was going over, watched her sleepy eyes
drift back to her pillow corner. I’d start my car,
put on that sappy John Mayer song you hate,
but know I love, and head through the center of town
on the ghost roads, driving like a memory
with four wheels and only three more miles to go.
You’d let me in the back door, careful not to shut the door
to the kitchen too tight, and we’d kiss
under the aquarium light.

I’d watch the shatters
of light split with the blades of your ceiling fan
as you’d remind me over and over again
with your words that I couldn’t stay long
while your hands pulled me in closer to your chest.

You were the first bad thing I let myself have.

I’d have to leave before your dad would get up for work,
so I’d pull on my sweatpants, wipe the makeup
from beneath the crease of my eyes, kiss you goodbye
for who knew how long it would be that time, and I’d cry
in the car the whole way home
because I knew that we were like grains of sand
in an hourglass
just waiting for our turn to fall.
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