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 4h
Me
A soft
Invisible blanket of
The fabric of
A more than Loving
Universe
Wraps itself around Me
And I
Accept it

🖤
 1d
Nick Moore
Into the mirror we gaze
Staring into the endless maze
That are the windows
To the soul
Outer space
Two black holes

Jump over the fence
Into the place where
Logic makes no sense.
As daylight fades and the night takes command,
Around your heart hopelessness wraps its hand;
But I'll kiss away each tear that you cry
And ease your  heartache with my lullaby

I sense your unrest, your utter defeat,
But foes have been vanquished --- they're in retreat;
And on wings of Love your sorrows will fly
As I hold you close, singing my lullaby

The love I offer will surge through your heart,
And like startled birds all woes will depart;
But now slumber calls -- the sun waved goodbye;
Be still, close your eyes . . . hear my lullaby

No heavenly choir could mimic this art
Of poetic fealty sung by my heart;
When I hear your call, you know I'll reply --
Bringing love and my healing lullaby

And with each new dawn, hope will be reborn,
For Love conquers all, though your heart be torn;
Some days may still bring a tear and a sigh
But love will prevail . . . . love, and my lullaby!
 Jul 19
McDonald tsiie
You found me broken and on these ruins you built a temple
and i sought repentance as You refined this rock in Your holy furnace
 Jul 14
Samuel Everson
Amber trees shed leaves
To make an earthy cradle
For new seeds to grow.
Saw a haiku. Felt like putting one together.
 Jul 11
1DNA
-
Dandelion fingers
Brush bruised, barren land

Speckled snowflakes sewn
From follicles of frost

Dusty dreams drape
Over salted wounds

Mystic memories mark
Mirages in no man’s land

Subtle, silvery silence
Nestles through prolonged nights

A touch too tender —
Love and light,
Love and light.


~

Chaos creeps,
And silence speaks.

Love that’s light
Is no match for nature’s blight.

Seeds disperse
Under Satan’s curse

All that remains
Of seeds once sown —

Stark, spiked stems
Of dandelion fingers

Dandelion fingers of my own.

-
This poem was a tough one, battling poetry block n trying to express something that's generally a taboo topic!
I often find me soothing myself by self hugging and stuff like that. I do this sometimes to feel that special touch; to feel the love i never felt.
Ive tried my best for now, might rework it later on.
 Jul 11
guy scutellaro
"what's the longest you stayed up?" jack asks.

"oooh, 5 days, a week. who knows?"

they take the shots, touch glasses,
throw down the bourbon.

"I wonder if animals have dreams?" jack says,
I wonder if dogs dream?"

"sure they do, dogs, cats, squirrels, birds," bob is nodding
his head up and down." it's all biochemical.

"not insects."

"why not? fleas, June bugs, moths. it's all biochemical, mix in electrical impulses, you got love and dreams. jack,

tell your dreams to me."
 Jul 11
Bekah Halle
I think you still look at me,
like you did when I was a kid —
Forever seeing me
as my younger, wilder (freer) self,

When you look at me, still,
All my childish ways were for nothing,
But, I see them as my "red pill"
transforming me into something —

I think you also still see me
lying in that coma.
Your dreams dashed for the ideal daughter's glee
You wished to live out your long-lost desires...

So you dressed me, did my hair
made me up like a daisy doll
lying there without sound to share,
I couldn't protest, I wore that knoll.

But, now —
Here I am,
With a voice less shallow
Yelling:  "I am not that kid anymore!"

So, how do you like that pill —
to swallow?
 Jul 9
Anais Vionet
I had a dream.
I don’t remember most dreams.

I was cleaning the floors of heaven.
It seemed a mixed blessing,
I was in heaven, after all
but I was cleaning the floors.

It was a part time job,
I knew that intuitively.
I don’t mind house cleaning, heaven cleaning.
It’s calm work, kind of Zen.
Are we supposed to think of religions in heaven?

At first I scrubbed on my hands and knees.
The floors are soft in heaven, like golden gym mats.
Then I thought of it, and suddenly I had a swiffer-wet mop,
just like that - and the pad never wore out.

After a while, I had an iPod, and AirPods too.
Then a daiquiri - a banana daiquiri with a pastel rainbow umbrella.
They make rapturous daiquiris in the hereafter - they never run out.
‘Heavenly,’ I thought, snorting out a dizzy laugh.
.
.
Songs for this:
The River of Dreams Billy Joel
If the Lord Wasn't Walking By My Side by Elvis Presley
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