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 Jan 2017
K Balachandran
Sylvie, I am alone here
doing nothing, except
thinking about you,
in a meditative trance.

It's a beautiful feeling Sylvie
strange, I don't miss you,even!
I imagine you as an awakening  flower
of changing colors and petals
You are in a whirl of realization.

Then a lone tree you are,
near a vast,waveless  lake
what an intriguing  koan,
to churn my inner sea.

You're nowa drifting white cloud
all through the kaleidoscopic shifts
I forget to think,what would I be
in relation with your whims,spectacular


Beyond apparitions, I search for  meaning
that  eludes, as it is fathomless

I hear the song of the lonely star, so near
and realize,"I am the light of the burning star"

Sylvie, I can't remember
neither you nor me exactly
or the distant star that sings
a song in the tunes of light years


You were from the forest, Sylvie
I used to be the mountain wind
that once caressed the forest trees.
Sylvie, we are one; the imagination
of the waves of light, beyond time.
Remaining true to ourselves
Is vital for our souls health.

By Lady R.F ©2017
 Dec 2016
Rebel Heart
Well I guess we all have
our own versions of the truth
Our own little realities
Mine separate from you

When I say that I'm alright
And you know that's not true
When my smile, its so fake
And I can't hide it from you

So maybe I'm living in an illusion,
Or maybe this is all just a dream.
I don't want you to see my life
how it really is.
You mean too much to me

You barely scratched the surface
of my whole life story
And to tell the truth
I don't want you to know,
Just think that my life's boring

It's better for you
and better for me
If you keep living in this illusion
Because we only see what we want to see
And you don't need to see these scars...
They hide too much of the truth
The truth I myself hide from.

And I hope you'll never have to find
The ugly truth that I call my life
I'll keep it all buried in time
In this pain, in this strife.

I'm trying to hold on
To this little sliver of a lie
that holds the broken pieces of my reality,
Telling myself I'll be alright...
That this pain is just an illusion
And in truth I'll be fine.

But I was never good at lying
And I'm just doing this for you.

Because you're
safe
in your own little
reality
As long as its
Far
from my own little
truth.
The poem that inspired my new song "My Own Illusion". It won a competition but more importantly saved me from drowning on yet another night...
 Dec 2016
ryn
.
Times like these...
Just make you want to get up and run.


Forget the ache in your knee,
forget the weight on your back.
Forget the problems in your pocket,
forget the secrets in your sack.

Times like these...
Just make you want to dive deep.


Forget the myth of what lurks below,
forget the cautionary voices in your head.
Forget the whispers of restraint,
forget the monsters under your bed.

Times like these...
Just make you want to take off and fly.


Forget the wings that remain invisible,
forget the winds which refuse to carry.
Forget the bottom that awaits you,
forget the beckoning arms of gravity.

And take that leap into
the great unknown...

.
 Dec 2016
Olivia Kent
Standing by the soup kitchen,
Wrapped up in freezing cold.
Not very old in numbers,
but feeling rather old.
The townsfolk snub him,
They ignore his missus.
His fingers sparkle blue and red,
No magic lurks within.
His blanket's rather itchy.
the people passing by,
are either numb or ******.
get a job, they shout for sport.
their coffee cup, their only support.
It beggars belief that the poor souls get grief.
There for the grace of God go I.
(c) Livvi
 Dec 2016
Tammy M Darby
What then would be my crime?
Shunning loves shrewd face
Drenched with false affection
For the universe of words and rhyme

To whom shall it matter
If I am no more
The insects of social web?
Lying snake tongues devoid of goodness
Through their veins the blood of deceit ebbs.

If I should draw black curtains
Turning head forever from light
Abandoning consciousness
Locking and sealing realities door
Possessing no beginning or end
Descending into the unknown
What then would be my crime?

All Rights Reserved @ Tammy M. Darby Dec. 20, 2016
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