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 Mar 2016
Noah A Baker
So there I was, and there you were, all of us,
everyone, dangling their feet off the rooftop.
Four distinctly different artists caught in the same painting
yet, none of us holding the paintbrush to our passions, yet.

Ambitious, yes, focused, not so much, motivated? Most definitely.

Dedicated to manipulation,
to making a masterpiece for the masses,
a decision to "form a more perfect union".  
To map a new demographic before our deaths.

If our desire was to make a mark, well,
we'd be done already.
The mark's been made, but not engraved,
and for it to stay we need to stomp on it until our own foot decays.

And these days, most pictures will fade,
So as us four sat there, dancing with the devil,
we dared to begin drafting on our canvas.
With no brush, but our own fingers,
our own blood, sweat, tears, and elbow grease,
finally finding the paintbrush to be figurative,
that we were manipulated ourselves.

We learned to picture the paintbrush as our pointer,
our palms the palettes, our pinkies the varnish,
a promise our piece would never be vandalized.

The world is your oyster, they say,
and the city was our canvas,
where we painted nothing but pearls,
rare commodities for the communities to cherish
until our masterpiece, the indefinite work in progress, is completed.
background:
we always struggle with pursuing what we want to do due to us believing we can't, or lack of resources, that we don't have what it takes, etc. And that's more or less fear making you think that. Once you let go of the fear in your head you can chase your dreams and passions. Once you realize that it's just a mental block, and you remove it, the world is yours to do what you want. Enjoy!
I am at peace
Grasping gatherin"
Marble extracted pieces

Dust all over deep  ye
shallow crevices  cry
A white dove's  fly
free of sorrow

I'd love to seal a millionth
tears on your lips kiss my farewell

I am the deep Space
I am the Brahman
I am the fine firmament
You are all best
Such is the truth

I am blood flesh body consciousness
Such is the Truth

I am the firmament
Go down on fantasy
Burn your fleshy
Languish fingers
And see where they land

Into the neverland anythin" is
Laying the sea **** as it were
A forest's tapestry ready
Finally
To recall the roll over
The magic Moss
and the razor sharp
entwined stares are infatuated
entirely, submerged in carnal
Pleasures and driftin" as
Smooth as our palms
explore the desired
Softness
Surfaces
Flowerin" as
Transcient
Shapes of heavenly
waves
wavin"
Shape shifti'n
Shinin' within our legendary
Black holes of perception

Rays fall exposed to the
Light
Acoustic fractures resemble
Ray's glimmerin' under
Undulated  brilliancies

Hey you, painter, a wordsmith of a happy fiddle tunes
All over the the land, ripe harry hills, bush berries and burgundy
Grow infinitesimal promises

Step aside for a while, apparitions of your wildest abstractions
Mean nothin" Come and take my breath away by the hand
And swim me to Swimmers' simmerin'

Endless Time is a ****** illusion
A Reckless hope drivin"
Without a licence

Ricochet
Toughts
Trickle
Riot rascals
And ******* concortions
Emanate radiant embarassed
Spirallin" shy blushes
To hide and die of this word: Anguish

I'd swallow the swell day
I'd let you know your golden and crimson
Violet
Deep Thoughts of Goodness

Precious precious Indigo
Ageless darlin'

Step a bit further
And see it (for) yourself
Eruptions
Coolin" within
The open space spiced
Dee light danger liasons

Ferocious I'm borne
Ferocious I give off
The light

I dye
I diamond you
I die dao the way up to you into the uncountable fervored Future

I burn I burn

I am the Sun
And the stars and the galaxies
I am The earth
I am the forest the mountains
I am the lake
Call me a fake
And mockin" will explode
Around your sweet grinin" face

Do not agree that we only read
Some make bread with sour cream
Some make cookies with a bit of green
Some throw flat stones upon the mild surfaces seen

Mirrorin" their minor inspirations tryin" to put others down
Hey, here is your crown! Bittersweet! Clown!

Clovers
Piment
Flowers
Horns
Thorns
Ageless
Aureolas
Borne

Scented oils linger in a sanguine air
Upon your tangible surrender
I fall and kiss your kiss

Rivers run wild flowering seeds
Rivers carry them to Toward n" a while deeds
Within cosmic symphonies by Oceanic all blueness

Blatant and Blissful
Ponds dormir

This all comes and goes
like ripples    
Upon the jade pond
This comes and voes like a vessel
Transports all beings

All beings engage in their essence
Liberated


While the noble sage
Disillussions own Self:

Subtle and ethereal body

This I am
This I am not










The wise
The names
The forms
The invisible
The intangible
They do Keep on goin'
Manure for the soul body mind.
Manure for the truthful seekers.
Major influence by Deepak Chopra.
Minor influence by the truth which lies in each and every one of us.
Hope you enjoyed the conducted narrative. Take for granted only what you percieve to be (your) Truth. This is poetry! This does and doesn"t speak of love. Tho" it aims to divine blissful revelations.
 Mar 2016
MS Lim
Because of memory
hate, more than love, returns to roost
(love knows its place and needs nothing
its steadfast joys to boost).

The gaps of time are closed
the past like a cinema-screen unrolls-
faces, scenes, places, words, dreams
sorrow and pain--each its story unfolds.

Memory like a task-master
wields its well-seasoned whip
its punishment it threatens to unleash
with cuts painful and deep.

Now in my days of decay
yet I've not forgotten-
me you did abandon without a single reason
do you dare ask to be forgiven?
Quoth the Ego:
"What's wrong with you;
why aren't you more like me?"

Quoth the Id:
"What's wrong with me;
why am I so unlike you?"

Both seem like Shadow to me,
but then again
  that may perhaps be
simply my own projection.
 Feb 2016
Atishay
"    The idea of hope mesmerizes me...

      Taking me out of myself
      Building the lives I lived in deep sleep
      Crushing the haunting shadows that parallel me
      Filtering the unknown into something placid
      Re scripting the bold unshakable imprints               "


*Expressing it, was unjust,
It only had to be done
I had never in my life,
Gone so far with my dreams
That i don't remember not living them
I see a light , I think I see,
a spark signalling a route
solely meant for me.

My idea of fulfillment stands still
Though the past seems heavy
My sanguine thoughts are over time and belief.
And so I will,
I will out of all possibilities
Cross the line and
Enter something ineffable.

Dance is everything ~ EVERYTHING IS DANCE ~
Everybody is a Dancer ~ Everything dances!
Sound is everything
~ SOUND IS LIGHT ~
 
    ~LIGHT IS LOVE~

**
Wisdom
***
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WZXM2eq46_s
 Feb 2016
SassyJ
Philosophical epistemology strumming adventures
Albeit, coherent mental decoding stratifications structured
Supposedly our world rests in our minds, revolving knowledge
An entwine of conceptual abstract flowing within oneself
The mind in the “I” the “I” a reality lived in my experiences
George of Leontini, a mine mind approving solipsism exploring innatism
Imaginative insights that nothing exists, the secrets secreting secrets
The knowledge behind the veils that remains un-communicated
A reverse of normality and known existences, moral disposition
Hypothesis of depersonalizations, adventures of self internalization
Justifications for what lies outside the Medulla Oblongata
Skepticism and just alternatives to western philosophy
Subjective unapproved experiences only robust in one’s mind
Descartes abstraction of inner experiences, reciprocated paradigm
Intuitively, perceived lived formulations of "Cogito Ergo Sum"
Psychological conscious undoubted individualistic thoughts
Berkley explored perspectives that physicality is an embodiment of the mind
The mind a decoding visualizer, that encompass the non-existent
An idealism marriage of ‘metaphysical’ and epistemological philosophy
The intense esoteric “dualism” verses the fiery “monism” reality
Mind boggling differentiated truths bleeding with blinking unresolvable hypothesis
The jiggered methodological, streamlining the un -logic sequential beats
 Feb 2016
The Dedpoet
I am at random,
And the lines formless
In my mind:
A lover and the pain,
A cat and a dying master,
Memories while walking
Among the tombs,
The names are faces.

And the void is a mind globe
Spreading itself into a sphere
As the sweat scourges my forehead,
I wipe my third eye:
      Hours leapfrog from page
To page,
   The sound of poetry is among
Everything I have known,
    A dispersed word translates
Me for the verse,
    But I am insubstantial,
Much as my thoughts.
In my room,
     On my desk,
I brood over the wind of yesterdays
Erosions,
I am nailed to a tree,
Deep into a lifeless tree,
I am no poet saint.

     I am not here nor there,
And when all the words have convened,
      I will find a piece of myself
In every poem,
    Though I remain incomplete.
The void here represents the thoughts of poetry, I am addicted to the words, the words of my predecessors
Whom were also haunted by words.
 Feb 2016
Ami Shae
I found myself wandering along the path
in the woods the other day--
I was alone (or so I thought)
when I began to pray
and as I stood next to a tall and aging tree
I thought I heard an angel
calling out to me--
I didn't realize tears were falling down my face
all I wanted was a caring embrace--
someone to tell me that all will be okay
and then this angel came to me to say,
"do not shed tears, my dear one--
the day will come when you will know
just where it is
you're supposed to go.
Until then, relax and allow
your heart to smile
and be ready for whatever comes your way
and allow your soul to rest awhile
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