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Man Jun 2023
Where is the break in our dark,
Where is illumination?
Vis-à-vis, a rational light.
For the contrast is stark
Between those who laze
And those who fight

Real values, and genuine ideals
Beliefs, not steeped, in a false virtue
And causes and movements, the same.
Do they still remain?
In the classes, in the fields,
At home? Never feeling near.

Where is the change?
Life is boring, Born to super starring.

Illuminate. Thangs gotta  turn around. Really can't wait.

Miracle happens every tym. Culd be our turn.

Better life screaming, where it's **** hard to find a gud wife.

All we lead, life in nigh. Fortune denial.

What culd we do but stay true. Staying more true, saying more truths.

Wish the youth truthful, fruitful. Beautiful the  future 🔮 looks.

Journey in time, on the treak of time. Doing time.

Searching for fortune and fame.
Tame, who do you blame.

Mama called him Cloudnine, among all name's.

Elation, superb emotions of extremely happiness destination in the sky. on high.
Agony of life
"LEANING ON YOUR SHOULDER."

I don't mind how
many times I'm
going to bid you
goodnight tonight.
But no matter
how many time,
I'd still keep
saying it, telling
you goodnight.
Because you'll
always have a
good night.
Darky starry
night leaning
on her
shoulder, singing
sweet songs
through the back
of thee ear
along with
the bird night.
Lullaby for
a princess. It's
me and you
tonight locked
in affection,
exodus
(departure) is
evil, wish it's
a lifetime
Pathos. In mine
heart I hold
you close. Thy love
grew a shield-tree
upon the surface
of mine heart,
under which I
abide and its
fruit indemnity
and gratify me.
Sometimes I
wonder how
beauty heaven
is having bestowed
His angel
unto the earth and
that angel I have found, and is
you my girl.
#C9_fm
Norman Crane Apr 2021
this is light she said
opening the curtains of her mind
i gazed
illuminously blind
Maria Mitea Oct 2020
candlelights

destined lighthouse keepers 

shining light in my eyes

my eyes lighten up your eyes

our eyes illuminated hearts

two candlelights in the far distance

destined lighthouse keepers
joel jokonia Sep 2020
Inquiring sons of daughters,
Equipt
Of a day, one day,
The unmalleable grounds
Of Untanga gardens
Will beget,
By far Richer.
Than today


Down to their own sons
Of a day, one day
Our land,
Agleam in lights of progress.
Surging nights
Bedeviled by the buzz of utopian youth

They, then also
Down to their sons
Of a day, one day
So on
And on...
Norman Crane Sep 2020
hold the match under your chin
unscrew your skull
and pack the kindling in
then strike a flame
inhale the light
your mind will burn so long and bright
Carlo C Gomez Sep 2020
Cold to the touch / this scene is a long dream / bio-luminescent submarine / keep it light / keep it moving / this whole dream is all of me / illuminating needles on the barometer / the compass of a turtle /
entente with nature / I am the mimicry / and the signaling / to breaking waves / to new possibilities / the new, warm blood flowing / in steady, sated lanterns of hope...
Julie Sep 2020
Paralyzed.
Frightened.
I’ve lost connection to myself.
Yes, I function. But just barely.
I function to survive.
It’s consuming.
It consumes me
every minute of the day.  
So much it has me drifting,
drifting long and far away.
My shell remains a presence;
yet it’s vacant, barely there.
While it holds a place amongst us,
it’s a space that can’t be filled.
Because she’s been forgotten.
Forgotten by myself.
Just a faint and faded memory
of a girl who once was bold.
Of a bright and beaming spirit
that was strangled into silence.
What’s left over is a shadow;
a flickering candle in the wind.
A soul that wants survival
but lacks trust in her instincts.
Because society was certain
she wouldn’t know what would be best
to keep that fire burning
in the middle of her chest.
Realization hits me.
I can see through all the smoke.
Those efforts weren’t noble.
They were self-serving to invoke
a tortured lone existence,
void of passion, void of love,
to keep her flames from growing,
from embracing all the space
that was all along intended
for her to illuminate.
What’s left behind are remnants
of a life that wasn’t lived;
of a soul that’s long been dormant,
meekly waiting to be saved.
And although it still is weakened,
scared, and weary of its might,
it’s now ready to be wakened;
eager to return to life.
Like a Phoenix from the ashes,  
be prepared for her to rise.
Seranaea Jones Aug 2020
-

               a suspension in the sky with refined silver cords
                 bearing tiny droplets full of crystal reflections
                     in a slow rotation which disintegrates the
                      periphery into gently unfolding louvers
                         that carefully define feathered edges.

                               i wish for it's pull chain over
                                    my own midnight sky—

i have but
small candles...




"cloud chandelier"
© 2020 by Seranaea Jones
all rights reserved
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