Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Apr 2015
Third Eye Candy
i sing the body eclectic, and mourn the failing day
as the luscious night unfolds a myriad of shadow
and pours the hearth of nightfall upon the weary.
i glean no good from my hard liquor, but sup
the dregs of my shark fin soup and wither, expanding...
i command the barge of my going to the yonder pier
and peer into the cauldron of my fickle mist.
the first blink of a marble statue must be for love
and i see now, the dreadful splendor of a constant.
the unfocused fist of a star on the horizon
and the stillness of a riot in my lungs.
 Apr 2015
JR Potts
The skies were that pretty kind of gray,
cloudy saturated with the smell of rain.
It was one of those days where you felt
six feet deep in bills you couldn't pay
and promises you couldn't keep.
Thoughts of Robert Frost because
I still have miles to go before I sleep.
 Apr 2015
Sam WG
People of the Earth
We won't be the first
In the midst of open arms
More stars have given birth
 Apr 2015
Traveler
Passing through this illusion of reality
Far beyond the perception of logic and past
The barrier that limits knowing
I can see my quantum soul
Here the emptiness is no longer empty
The nothingness is actually something-ness
Here the building blocks of objectivity
Spring forth from subjectivity, holding no conclusion
Just endless whole parts expanding eternally!
God is a never-ending creation...
 Apr 2015
Poetic T
Dragon upon the scales
Of age, shimmering upon
Glistening moon beams,

Your breath the life of
A thousand stars, cleansing
All that are touched.

You are of purity & fire of
Sin & ash, whisper suns,
& the world is embers of dust.
 Apr 2015
Terry Kennedy
Satori is a word that originates from Japan. It literally translates as 'awakening' and is used to describe a moment of 'sudden enlightenment'.
To attempt to understand this as an experience, try this:

Imagine your mind as being a glass prism situated behind your eyes.. It breaks up reality in a similar way to how a glass prism refracts light.

What goes in is pure and whole, but what comes out is broken and fractured. When the mind is active, what is received by the eyes is broken up into tiny little manageable pieces of information. Then for convenience, it will discard anything that it considers to be irrelevant, or 'not fitting' [what you already believe to be true].. Then your body will react according to that particular interpretation of reality. That's not to say the mind is bad or wrong, only that the mind does not see Truth, but only what it allows to be true..

When the mind falls silent the prism is removed, and you become just like a mirror. Light goes in through the eyes and your being will directly reflect what is being received.

See if you can catch the next time your mind goes silent. Be aware of the stillness it brings. Notice that the mind will want to judge it or describe it. If thoughts come, acknowledge them and let them be on their way. Just watch them. Treat them in a manner similar to watching clouds float through the sky. Stay with this feeling and remember it well.

For in that moment, all will be revealed.
This is not a typical poem, but it has been written poetically for good reason. Although the link may not be clear to some, my poem 'Quiet Child' was written with this in mind. I'd like to know if anyone can see the link :)
 Apr 2015
Roger Turner - Poet
Driving up the highway
When I saw it in the mist
Like a pure and tender ******
Still waiting to be kissed
A village all forgotten
Somehow time had missed
You could see it from the highway
slightly hazy in the mist

Had time forgotten this poor place
Left in limbo for all days
Was it just a trick of light and sun
Manufactured through the haze
Were the folks here ****** to stay
Out of reach but in our gaze
Or were they truly here by choice
Living old, forgotten ways

Brigadoon did spring to mind
but, in truth I thought this good
Be something better than that curse
This village protected by the wood
I pulled on to the shoulder
And tried to see as best I could
This simple town or vision
That had not aged as it should

I saw no point of entry
No way to get there from my place
It was perfect, untouched, special
A village bathed in grace
Folks kept driving past me
Up the highway at such pace
They would never see this village
In the mist as fine as lace

The village may be magic
It may be something in between
In truth all I can tell you
What I saw, not what I mean
It's a village, plain and simple
in the woods, all shades of green
Un-kissed, and yet so perfect
stuck in stasis, in between
 Apr 2015
Third Eye Candy
we are night and day
the clever shadows in gingersnap rags
plotting  to brood in Bohemia
stamping kiwis
clicking our heels the way
twilight clinks in a glass of Bourbon
or typewriters chat chat chat
like iron tea leaves

perhaps
Next page