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 May 2016
Cyrus Gold
“…knowledge of the beginning and the end, and of that all-pervading Reason which orders the universe in its determinate cycles to the end of time"
- Marcus Aurelius's definition of the sage

*I’m starting to think poets are bleeding ink
Longing for true understanding, an oath on the stand
Mentally sinking in quicksand, trials never finish
Fear of diminishing quicker than our escape plan

Seeking wisdom in time for our demise,
and as we're writing our words, our fears are in disguise
Intricate word-weaving, we’re prisoners of the moment,
spilling ink on the paper and anxious for our atonement

The dream of a dreamer’s quick to take him places
A limbo of the unknown, and filled with many faces
Endless deliberation with the jury of the mind
Furious and made in a hurry, truly “one of a kind”

But truthfully one of many, and so it’s up to you
Live an Epicurus life, happiness is a truth
Patient examination of nature is natural
A masterful snap of the mental camera is factual

The sage’s knowledge of reason is unilateral
Theory of forms and as Plato had put it
It’s reason you see before you that offers spatial relationships
Properties seeming apparent - hope you relate to this

Believe nothing you hear and half of what you see
Our fears are found in the lines written by you and me
So keep the words coming, never stop pursuing wisdom
Enlightenment of the soul towards a new beginning.
"Wisdom....many vehicles exist to cross the sea...among them, your mind...."
- Moyan Brenn
 May 2016
Stephan
.

*If I were a poem
I’d ask you to fold me up
and put me in your pocket,
then at the end of the week,
toss me in the wash
with the rest of the clothes

And when you find me later,
smudged and smeared,
ripped and tattered into
little unrecognizable pieces,
don’t worry about it,
I was already like that
I have been notified that this poem was plagiarized and posted on Poetfreak by someone using the name Blurry Face. I can assure you, this is my poem.
 May 2016
Sally A Bayan
I see them everyday, rain or shine,
Beautifully lined in a row.
They all stand tall, mighty and proud,
To prove who the mightiest is.
And yet...they are always so,
So graceful in all their might.

As they wave to us,
We, too, Wave our Hands By the Lake.
While Expanding our Chests,
A cool breeze
Brush against our faces.
Our eyes  follow our hands in
Painting a Rainbow.

The morning sun seemed not too bright that day.
The branches and twigs above us were
Intertwined, like two lovers' hands
Laced with each other.
In Parting the Clouds, we bring light
Into our visions, our minds, our lives.
We let go, focus on what's ahead of us,
While Weaving Silk In The Air.....

And in Rowing the Boat, we revive ourselves
With a breath of new life....
We reach to the Heavens to offer
Our healing palms when Sage Presents Peach.
Our spirits are lifted, we see light in
The dark, as we Gaze At The Moon.

From above, the wind blows,
The leaves touching ...caressing, as the
Wind Rustle Lotus Leaves....we give
Our healing touch to all that surround us...
Their movements and ours flow
While Waving our Hands In the Clouds,
Scooping The Sea, and Viewing the Sky once again...

Rolling With the Waves, a  time when our healing
Energies combine with the powers of the water....
When the Dove Spreads Its Wings, we open our arms,
Embrace these blessings, we share them as well....
The restlessness in our mind and spirit, is
Now hushed by the healing silence.

The Dragon Emerging From the Sea, unites
The breath, the  heart and the spirit...
We now prepare for The Flying Wild Goose,
We raise our arms, getting ready
To let go, to let ourselves be.....

With palms facing each other, they
Circle up, sideways and down, resembling
Windmills Turning In the Breeze. We balance
Our weight on each foot, like Bouncing Ball
In The Sunshine, enjoying stability deep within us...
And as Nature's Fragrance Drifts Up,
We take in the many gifts that surround us...
We are now energized........

We knew our movements by heart,
Did each one with grace,
To the beat of the swaying above us,
We forgot all our worries....
We forgot all about time....

Suddenly, flecks of tiny petals started
Falling over our heads....
Like a shower from Heaven.
It was time to bow our heads, in thanksgiving,
For all the countless blessings.
Eventually, the ground was covered
With green and gold.

Once more, I looked up to the Heavens
With much gratitude....
I thanked the two big shady trees
That sheltered us...
They were two lovers....
The ******* and Narra trees...........

Sally A. Bayan

Note:

Shibashi is one of the many movements of Chi-Kung.
It is composed of 18 healing movements.
The notes on the movements were taken from the
personal journals of a Franciscan nun, alive to this day, and the mentor of my own mentor.

------Cassia Fistula is the scientific name of the ******* tree.
------Pterocapus Indicus is the scientific name of the Narra tree.



Copyright 2013
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
 May 2016
Mirela Totić
Hey you
Standing in corner of your fears
Surrounded with the one
Who pretend they know how you feel

Taking every breath
Wondering is it poisoned?
Will this one hurt as well?

Hitting your chest...Does it still beat?
Where is the way out...?
Will it ever stop?
What if it takes me, what if i can't fight anymore?

Hey you
Taking the fight for others to have peace
Tears for others to have smiles
Fear for others to have freedom.

Yes you!
Let me breath with you
Let me take your pain and sorrow
Share the burden, heal the wounds.
Let me show you… I have battles too.

But as it starts it will stop…
As it breathe it will beat
It will take what you give.

Hey you,
You know there is more than this
Let this be your way in or out.

M.T. 2016.
 May 2016
Leonardo J
There I stood,
a grown man, (or at least I like to think of myself as one)
shaking her hand,
her hands; dry, rough, hard,
and my hands had never felt so soft as during that moment;  so sheltered as when I touched your mother’s hands,
her hardened thenar, those callused fingers, flooded me with warmth in the midst of a December night,
I could feel her love,
those hands that laboured all your life for you,
those hands  that have toiled for you,
your mother’s hands,
the hands of love.
you are loved.
 May 2016
Gidgette
I thought you were beautiful

Not shallow beauty,
Skin deep
The kind of beautiful like the sun
Shining on a tree leaf
Showing its veins

Beautiful like,
The sound of a creek
After a good storm

Like the feel of a summer breeze
On the back of my neck

I held you in awe

You were the mist,
Rising off the lake on a cool morning
The view from the top of my mountain,
In the fall when the leaves are colored

You were the violin music
Playing softly while I danced
The colors oil makes on the street
Just after it rains and the light hits it

I was nothing
A ghost,
In the darkest corridors of your haunted house
The typo on an old type writer,
Needing white out

I thought you were beautiful
 May 2016
South by Southwest
I have seen the bliss
before the morning's dawn .
I have taken kiss from a woman
as she slept like a new born fawn .
I have seen the sun and moon set
together in a western sky .
I have seen all the reasons now
as we let our loving die .

I have seen the fog at times when
there was nothing one could see .
I have seen eternity from the mountains
all the way down to the sea .
I have seen love's kind embrace and
felt it's breath upon my skin .
But I don't even dare to dream
there will be another like you again .

Oh , I have seen paradise through
The yellow of the glass .
Tasted it upon my tongue
And it was so very nice .
I have smelled the rose's fumes
And it permanates the air
For evermore I assumed
But now face cold realities stare

I have seen the petals fall
one by one by one
I have seen the fingers slip away
until there were none .
I have this empty feeling
at the bottom of my pit
God it is so unwilling
I think I'm feeling sick

Our love has evaporated
After summer's rain  
Leaving steaming memories
Heat and searing pain
But I have not seen
Nor think I ever will
See a love again like this
Forever that's so real
 May 2016
jane taylor
transported back into those walls
running down the basement hall
i locked the door so i could hide
and reaching for a 45
with practically no voice at all
i sang along and prayed
to drown you out

does the soul regenerate?
what part of me did you take?
your verbal threats would make me gasp
no one could hear when I called out
record player winding ‘round
i tried to yell
but couldn’t shout

yet something you did cultivate
a plan you helped to propagate
for each and every time i ran
like a builder in a gym
i’d sing a song and sing again
strengthening the chords within
empowering my voice

©2016janetaylor
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