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 6d
Shambhavi
Three blind men touched an elephant one day,
Each judged the animal in their own way.
One felt the leg and boldly cried,
“A rough, strong tree trunk, broad and wide!”

Another touched the tusk and cried,
“So smooth and sharp from every side!”
The third held the tail and gave a sigh,
“It’s thin and hairy, like rope swinging by.”

All three were right, yet all were blind,
None saw the whole with an open mind.
They argued loud, in anger and might...
Each defending only their slice of sight.

Isn’t it just like the world today?
Where people fight over what they pray?
Different names, but lessons the same,
Still we battle, Come on it's 2025!!
What a shame!!
I saw this story on a YouTube channel and I thought  of creating a poem on it however I know this story before, my grandma told this in my childhood when I saw this on YouTube I was like hey it's my childhood story and I thought of creating a poem on this I don't remember the channel name if any one knows plz tell me its actually been a month since I saw that video. Well we all know there's a single form of energy who made us all , who all we love there might be different forms beliefs different methods to pray but I know faith and love are same💖
 Jul 17
TOD HOWARD HAWKS
I'll be dying soon.
Follow me in love.
You are made of love,
Follow me. We all are
made of love. Be one
with God. Become one
with God--no form, no
beginning, no end. God
is love, follow me in love.
Only enlightenment is all you'll know.
I'll be dying soon. We all will be
dying soon. Become one with
God. Become love infinitely.

TOD HOWARD HAWKS
 Jul 14
CE Uptain
I’m wondering about the state of my life
It seems as dull as an old pocket knife
No satisfaction in the work I do
No colors but grey and blue

I’m older now and maybe wiser somehow
Seen a lot of time go by up to now
Looking back, it was all so quick
Got a few memories that seem to stick

I remember love, I remember pain
I remember playing out in the rain
I remember people, time and places
I don’t remember names when I see their faces

How much older does one have to be
To understand the things, you need to see
Does age give you rights to win in a fight
Does it let you be the one to see the light

Now it seems that time goes by slow
And it moves based on what you know
Experience can teach you later on
It comes after the lesson is known

I don’t get too excited any more
There’s no mystery behind every door
Been there, done that and moved on
Seen everything I’ve been shown

Looks like old age is for looking back
Wishing for another crack
Wouldn’t do it all over again
Unless it came out the same in the end

So, I’m growing old just for fun
I got wrinkles from too much sun
Can’t say that it’s said and done
Any day just might be the one
I'm too old to lie about my age. Besides when you get old, you don't have to be nice to people.
 Jun 3
IrieSide
There the highs are,
then come the lows
this great flow
of mystery
that nature
has granted

it's part of the game,
some ancient pattern
that only few
master

this is a glance
of the Way,
an essence
of poles,
where all
is one
yet
there exist
opposites

the center,
of everything
go there,
and find
balance
 Jun 2
Ken Pepiton
Uncovered consciousness,
truth from time stories stones tell,

great madnesses, raging troops of boys,
whose fathers wandered off

vacat

we wait, we wet the thirsty clay
we wait, we let it dry and become scripture.
so. some days vacat seems         we should slow it all down and look around, look at the tools we use... to speak to any free will interested... in survival
 Jun 1
Agnes de Lods
Every day, I open my reality:
I wake up.
I feel.
I choose.
I decide—
knowing so many others
are crying behind the scenes,
and their trembling is raw.

Pain isn’t consolation—
it reinforces the structure of fragility
when the towers are crumbling.

At the core, we return,
squeezing black-and-white struggles
into our veins, into our memories.

To the only home
we never left
our own body.
The first and the last.
I'm not the speaker,
I'm just the repeater.

I'm not the speaker,
I'm just the repeater.

I'm not the speaker,
I'M JUST THE REPEATER.

I'M NOT THE SPEAKER,
I'M JUST THE REPEATER.

I'M NOT THE WITNESS,
I WAS THE BYSTANDER.

I'M NOT THE POET,
THIS IS MY CONFESSION.

I'M NOT THE SPEAKER,
I'M JUST THE REPEATER.

THIS IS YOUR WARNING,
YOU BEST CHECK YOUR SOURCES.

I'M NOT THE SPEAKER,
I'M JUST THE REPEATER.

I'M JUST THE REPEATER.

JUST THE REPATER.

REPEAT.

REPEAT.

I DO NOT SPEAK.

SO WHY DO YOU LISTEN?
Some words are never truly ours.
We say them, shape them, pass them on.
Yet in the end, they belong to the voices that cannot speak.

To listen to echoes, is not to hear lies.
It is simply the only way to connect with a speaker you cannot hear.
For it is only the author who could possibly know for sure what they said,
What they did,
What truly happened.

It is up to the author to repeat the events.
And it is up to the reader to believe them.

Dear reader, do you trust your author to speak the truth?
If there is value in the stories told by authors,
Is there value in stories told by rumors?

Is this relevant?
Or am I rambling?

Is there already an answer?
Who gets to decide?
 May 30
Salmabanu Hatim
Sad I float by
Like the lonely cloud in the clear sky,
I feel as though like the deep sea,
No one truly knows me.
There are some things I wish not to recall,
Inevitably like rain they must fall,
As dark days behest loneliness,
I search deep within in silence,
I realise what I seek is there in me
Here, there, everywhere free,
Enough my ownself.
29/5/2025
 May 30
Lily
I didn't know how to tell
So I bled ink instead of tears
I didn't know how to yell
So I hid the pain away for years
 May 30
Tanisha Jackland
a meditation on love

It is to
vibrate as high
as one can fathom
by laughing
with sweet thunder
to uplift the soul

To be in sync with
the natural world

To give thanks
to the higher force
surrounding
the all of life

To walk in kind loving steps
with gentle words on
the lips

Remembering who you are
existing in the sacred
arms of the holy fabric
of everything.
Speak your truth and love shall reign...
 May 21
Dani Just Dani
Be careful
when you decide
to sit down and rest.
You might take too long
and the sadness
might not leave.

No one’s here
to lend a hand,
so keep an eye
on the oil in your car,
the way your teeth
are falling apart.

Tend to your hurt.
Cradle it
rock it to sleep
against your
beating heart.

Drum your pooling blood
onto the page.
Write life.
Rest.

But please be careful,
the world keeps going,
even after death.
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