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Bekah Halle May 14
If my thoughts can lead
To depression,
And from our thoughts, we speak,
I revolt against my thoughts;
I have become my joy!
My heart fills, and
I am full of love,
My posture lifts,
I am full of hope,
My movement quickens,
I see opportunities, and
I will become my joy.
I am joy!
Man May 2
So much to say, which means so little;
So little to say, what that means much.
These ends we face, often,
Come on fast and taper out just as such.
What that remains: naught but thought.
Loose and multiplicitous as strands,
Hair of the artist's brush,
Colors as the richest palette -
Bold & bright, deep & dark
Man Mar 5
If it were mine-
I think of the past, time
Unpauses, and I'm brought back.
I'd never have;
Factors weigh too heavily, those
Strings that keep me attached.
Choose to come back.
Waters fall, the stream cascades
Flowing into itself
Over & over again
Mark Wanless Feb 21
cognit discontent
cognition desire
the mother of movement
so says amoeba
Her body pulls weight with ease
Ask mountains if they are displeased
Question clouds drifting in the sky
What is orbit's watchful eye?
Have spun circles too long
Dizzy as current moves us along
Communicating inexact words
Sentences sometimes are outright absurd
Kissing off-target
Inaccurate aim
An impressive meaningless game
Expressing inner thoughts strictly forbidden
Settles now
What's hidden?
Unapproachable horizon
Distant
Bright
From the past learn abuse is alright
Understand sea and it's secret depths
Neither decide
Desire to descend it's steps
For indignity she avoids at all costs
Collisions difficult tempt and accost
Start anew
Wiping slate clean
The "we" discovered that lies between
Ever so gently make change
Offered affection usually exchanged
On her own battles pain
Heart will survive because love remains
A returning circuit all burned out
Body will live
With
Without
Written 2-8-21
morrigan Aug 2022
Do you promise?
Do I have to promise?
Why can’t you just promise me?
Why can’t I promise you?

Compounding compromise after compromise
Plunge unto the same mold and lose our eyes
Lose our ability to realize
I drift to you because you aren’t me
You don’t complete me but you don’t deplete me

After-surge, recharge
Electricity in your touch
A culmination of all you’ve ever felt, been through

And I fall harder through the floorboards of my arrogance
When your fingers fuse with the heartstrings
Reminding me without words
You’re easy to move around and I swim through you

Converge and compromise
God, I think your fingers should melt me down
Oh, they make some of my favorite sounds
Fusing with the heartstrings
Reminding me without words
That feeling is you
Do you promise I can have it too?

Compounding compromise after compromise
We pour unto the same mold
And lose our eyes
We didn’t need them anyway
I’m not me, you’re not even you
Release myself into the wild and swallow you
All we can be, drowning on the same wave
Holding hands to stay in parallel motion
Amidst all the commotion
Without eyes I can say I wouldn’t want it any other way
Converge and compromise with you
Sara Brummer Aug 2022
It’s the essence of sensation,
the elastic feel in the body,
spiritual flame in the heart,
the wild movement that
lights up earth and sky.

It’s the centrifigal force
that radiates mood’s sunshine,
the moment of unexpected torque,
infinitely complicated yet simple
in its sublime resonance.

Each step is gifted,
each step an idea,
a word unspoken,
a poem in the making.

For dance is flux and motion,
a viseral trance, a carefree discipline
of endlessness promising bright
tomorrows until the final release
beyond earth-bound dimensions.
Elymaïs Mar 2022
A box fell from the shelf
Before my very eyes,
Spilling contents as it went,
To the place that it now lies.

I don't understand why
Certain things are beautiful.
But I watched it as it made
Its descent and I felt very
Moved.
Farah Taskin Oct 2021
As a nature lover
I immerse in the greenery
I relish the scenery

The charm of the hydrangeas spreads
The forsythias smoothly toss their heads

The lively leaves hum
The green grasshoppers delicately jump

Hither
and thither
I seek the mirth
I simply
adore the earth.
I'm a Wordsworthian :)
@First Movement

Flash blue, breezes and gentle touches where he is her favourite dancer.
Twitchy tickly itchy movement, likewise violin trembled string
Autumn arrives with butterfly wings. He is a dancer. Fainted @

Noon sun ray. He says “Hi… Give me a Five”
Shine or silver, day to day. It all turns to grey.

@Second Movement

Life in a day where there are knots in every skein. The moment of whispering
And the surprise gifts of the Year. Look. Rains and showers flushed into her skirt.
Autumn lands with a giant painting brush. She is a painter. Arrayed in

Gold and red, twirling canvas panels with leaves upon her ankles.
Their intense autumnal melancholy embittered

@Third Movement

life wonders’ bedroom window. Of oscillating thread
that winds between the living and the living we thought were dead.

Autumn falls with hymn choral from spider’s web. He and she reunions
Soul to soul, pole to pole with blesses with increase and life,
They are gross and simple creatures, jointly servant of the Will.
Reflected with a movie-"Invictus"  Life is a circle, we follows with nature and seasons And we are master our own fate....
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