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  3d Traveler
JRF
That’s Nice

The sweet, warm words you say to me and the way you hold me so close is so nice.

That’s nice
That you think of me, often
and I reciprocate
Always and in all ways.

That’s nice
That you kind of love me the same way that I love you.

That’s  just so
Nice.
you left with no signal,
flying high, eagled eyed,
peering down at
all the towns
you passed over,
blue through burning
but never stopping, stilling
to listen but not hearing
those other throbbing tunes
playing in back of black rooms

oh, how you concealing
the ambiguous depths,
of ***** deals squealing,
the mess of contradictions
you can’t help revealing,
leaving rust, dimming dust
full in on the chokehold
of others hands upon my heart

still
your hearts are throbbing
in synchronization to
the river flowing of my
words needy & begging
for a timely releasing by,
in anticipation of ending
the sun’s confinement
on the other side of the
dark perimeter of the planet

where poets dare to tread
knowing the jeopardy to
themselves when their truths
are outed by the light shedding
come the morning’s birthing

11:44pm
2/28/25

can you guess what movie I watched last?
Wind-carved
spine twisted—feral, gnarled.
A body bent,
splintered—never severed.

Salt licked wounds raw. Brine sutured marrow.
Bark flayed to ribbons, limbs ink-blurred—
curling, unwritten. A thing undone, a thing refusing.

Roots plunged—teeth to brittle earth,
ribs against collapse.
Cliff crumbling, gravity unspooling—
but it held.

White-knuckled in ruin.
Fingers clawing the wind.
Wreckage. Crooked. Unnatural.

An old man exhaled— Survival isn’t always beautiful.

But what is beauty, if not this—
a body unmade, carved by violence,
and still, somehow, bloom?

Synesthesia is a neurological condition in which stimulation of one sense involuntarily triggers experiences in another sense. This means that people with synesthesia may see colors when they hear music, taste shapes when they read words, or feel textures when they smell certain scents. It is a rare and unique phenomenon that affects about 2-4% of the population. Synesthesia is not a disease or a mental disorder, and it does not interfere with daily life

would sell my soul
cheap very cheap
to have this kinetic
blessing

think of the life
of love’s illusions
you could sketch,
the intersection
of all the senses
in one glorious
syntax
speaking of the
synthesis
of perfection moments

to decorate ordinary existence
for others

to be a human filtering
kaleidoscope
this poet’s word~world enthralling,
mesmerizing

imagine a love poem
erupting,
the sound and the fury,
the volcanic coloring heat
upon your flushed cheeks,
the symphony of
tiny erupting pinpricks


when first you
kiss
the great love of
your life


For everyone to
understand,
persuasively share,
the exact ecstatic crystallization
of that single second as well as you…
2/23/25
AI is the limitation’s of the lost.
Those trying to create a poem at any cost.
Files and files of poetic info to chose from but all that stuff has all been done!
Recreated to fit your form, smoke and mirrors of a storm.
But a true poet knows,
the muse and the memes are connected to the soul!
Traveler Tim
Patterns are common,
Some are better at seeing,
Them when they appear.
Life is often a game of connect the dots
  4d Traveler
Tom D
Here lately the Sandman mocks me
with his calls to sleep that are nothing more than brutal sarcasm
To report to my bed at night
is the highest level of futility
Even the sheep are laughing
I’m here all week
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