Onomatopoeia

Onomatopoeia

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We were taught To use words that sound like what they are, Like round vowels and esses For softness and caresses, Like the rolling susurrus Of soft rain in tall grass, The murmur of low laughter, the gentle whisper or hands Grazing hips, Like her name blossoming on your lips.... Sounds a lot like love.
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the beautiful people

the beautiful people

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Who are you when the world stops watching? Is there anything real left at all? Some pale flickering idea of a person Locked behind the dry ice and mirror-balls? At the end of the night when the music has stopped, Do you shiver Are you lonely? Are you lost? Do you peel off tonight's skin in a shed story to Drop discarded beside the bed? Do you even believe the lies You've steadily fed into your own eyes? Have you stitched yourself a home From the ripped patchwork of your life? Do you long to crawl into the lap of belonging? Do you ache and wait for its tender touch, To tuck your brittle hair behind an ear, Kiss your haunted eyes And tell you Of course Your matter and…
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Kentish Heart

Kentish Heart

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This bucolic place, This idyll, This church-bells-and- Whack-of-a-cricket-bat place, And stone faces strewn with ivy and wisteria, Here, the long perpetual summer, The sweet rum and sponge cake of a summer fete, The white-tipped Oast Houses and hop kilns, Beyond, the rolling hills and scudding clouds, And still, always, the green of it. This place brings my soul to soar, The roar Blake wrote of fills my ears, These darling buds may comfort all My aching years And all the winding country roads to roam. Always, I am coming home.
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fan the flames

fan the flames

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The darkness rolling at the centre of me Threatens to obnubilate the tiny spark Flickering in the grate of My smoke-ravaged heart. I have feared the rope-tangled thoughts Would smother and snuff out The last tinge of light Caught in my chest Like all the very best and brightest parts Might soon depart in black-winged flock. Left, then, alone, with ticking clock, And ash and greyish rock, To stare at sunless heights - - But - there! Some light-tipped thing Still flies, Still soars, And hope lays claim to this, And grazes the sky in a holy kiss.
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how to save a life

how to save a life

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And at the closing of my longest, darkest night, I decided to take all the light That I could muster And, with all my might, shine myself into all my darkest corners And locked doors; Push back the tide of tears and fears Rising on my floor. Devotion to your own light Is the only way to save your life.
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see the love there that’s sleeping

see the love there that’s sleeping

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This morning I am heavy, Like the weight of each and every star is Stacked high up on my chest like all the best parts of me are stretched too far. My brain thick with cotton-wool and sawdust, Half-rusted dreams and half-heard songs That seem to crackle in the static. I dreamt of childhood places and childhood faces, and endless corridors. Always searching and seeking something more Than smoke and ghosts in mirrors. My father shimmered in the hazy morning light Spilling through the half-closed curtains. This morning I am certain I could hear his laugh, Half-remembered memories And doors half-closed. My heart is bruised, A violent violet rose.
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Stay, Hushed

Stay, Hushed

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There is a certain shifting light to this. Dappled sun, and Tea-stained kiss. Hands sculpting life, and This breath Building bonfires, and These sighs Drawn deep. Split-fruit mouths on Bright-knived shoulder blades. Stay, hushed, the world fades. Longing and yearning and Learning the exquisite map of Bodies in full bloom, and The still birdsong room of Bodies at rest. Bar windows, lock doors, This moment, the brightest, the best.
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For Sprout, A Space Oddity

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Tiny sprout of green shoot growing. Glowing, knowing, a thousand years wrapped up in your humming-bird heart beat. The whorls and swirls of your see-through feet Have walked a million miles to find us. You are made of stardust. Hello little one, come from the sun, Your hands will hold lifetimes of light and insights, Tight in that fist; A billion atoms have kissed the peach-fuzz of your forehead. Tread softly. You hold a universe in your heart.
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Even Atlas Had Bad Days

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It is so hard to fiercely love a body That does not do what, today, I wish it would Or at least, does not look like I wish it could. Today. Turn away from mirrors. Shame slithers, gelatinous and pale My worth once more hung upon a scale Failed a game I never wanted to play Lost my crown It’s so hard to hold up the sky When the world teaches us to tear it down
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