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 Nov 2018
Jen
Take away something real, fiction
Hold it in your arms, metaphysical
Friction, Oh, hyper-monitor diction to
Take hold of nonexistent, nonsensical
Non-fiction; How it slips from fingers
Ever distant, moving yet arthritic; much so,
This life fades, Drowning in indifference
In the future not far; Traces fill the spaces
That hold your heart back as if paralytic.
Become resistant, To feel alive in life here.
If only to replay the best yesterdays;
When tomorrow is clean-slated fate,
Today is an oil smudged rainy sidewalk,
There is a Specter, an owl on a high pole;
In the light of fluorescence a ****** there,
Eyes glow; what does the wise one know?
Lost in a state of confusion
Along with those winding roads
Fighting against the raging tide
Trapped in this place inside.
Those demons in your head
They are playing tricks again
But never underestimate your strength
Your down though you will survive.
Now you can blossom like flowers
For now your lost in disaray
And you walk that winding road
Just where are you heading too
No one can say for nobody knows.
Lets hope one day you'll find
That path you've been looking for
And reach out for that sunny sky
And leave those dark clouds behind.
A simple little poem about a not so simple time in life
Called adalesanc.
 Nov 2018
Hadrian Veska
The ley lines have changed
Twisting and curving
Leading somewhere
Hidden long ago
We are close now
To those mysteries
The secrets we once knew
When the world was still young
 Nov 2018
Jen
Splintered Beams,
Allow
Forgotten Faces
To seep into
Restless Dreams;
Wistful waking,
As
Sunlight traces
Truth;
The past
Speaks
Quietly
Back,
Through Introspect,
To the inside;
The
Last
Place
You'd
Think
To
Seek
Tranquility-
Enclosed
Within
Tattered Seams
Of Restless Dreams;
To find it there,
Within.
 Nov 2018
Jen
Outstretched
And
Exposed
To find
Yourself
In
The
Chasm.

Displaced
Consciousness
As if
A Phantom.

Holding your soul,
Close to your body.

Rolling
Into
A Cocoon
Of
Newly
Spun
String.

Rolling, rolling, rolling...
To where?

Towards
Undetectable
Cosmos.

Unending,
Then crystalizing
Over sudden sunsets,
Infinitely,
Across the horizon.

Moving towards
Abstractions
Faster,
As concrete
Fails to set
Within them.

Swept up
On the stairwell
Of a helix,
Waiting to
See where
It ends.

Caught up
In the never-ending
Space of Obscurity
That sometimes seems
Forbidden.
This poem might not appear to make sense at first.  It came to me as a visual image that suddenly popped into my head as I was thinking about how I feel about a life situation that I've struggled with for a while. It actually has dual meanings as after I wrote it some subcontious thoughts also surfaced.  I've heard poetry is good therapy and believe it. So the inspiration came as the sun started to go down as it does now at 4pm.  I was thinking about a piece of life, closed my eyes and saw myself exposed and naked laying in a dark, empty space. Then I realize it, and so my entire being rolls itself up in a cocoon for protection to find that my mind is very abstract and struggles in this concrete world, especially around a lot of people who are very concrete and black & white thinkers. It's time to find a new field but it seems like a big leap. Just thoughts and visualizations put to words....
 Nov 2018
Michael Angelo
What temperance
Hath peace
In me
Started?
The nights
Swoon,
Dreams alight
Upon my mind
No longer.
Endless faith
In hopeless deeds-
Growing pains
From defective seeds.
What I am and what I came to be
Never coincided peacefully
I was supposed to set the world on fire,
Instead I water the seeds of my own discord
That something good may come of it
 Nov 2018
harlon rivers
Listening rain plashes
upon crystal spring waters
It hears the trailing distance
disguised in the silent gravity
chasing it down the sky;
refreshingly sprinkling
          stillness
where spotless fawns
drink from mirror pond
green and peacefulness

     A man falls from
a distance he knows by heart;
dropping like a wind broke tree ...
Breaking all the silence hidden
within the deepest places
          of his soul
Hitting the ground hard
to see if he still feels —
laying there broken
feeling the raindrops
     soothe the hurt

Certain when he’s able
     to get back up,
hearing a distant calling
to the fountains of his soul —
he may fall down again
     bearing the weight
     of broken dreams
     But he’s seen it all
for long enough to know:
he’s no candle in the wind

Awakening in an unfinished life,
coming back from the dead,
     still feeling each
     feral breath enough —
     to keep on trying
to chase down the wind ...


     harlon rivers                                                           ­                          .
November 4th, 2018

Rumi said:   'Whoever brought me here
                     Will have to take me home'
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