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 Dec 2024
inkedsolace
Fires of hatred,
Burnt and broken,
Left behind,
Only,
Ashes and smoke,
Then even that,
Is gone.
anger
 Dec 2024
inkedsolace
Static filled blank,
Consuming void,
Fills my gaze,
And I revel,
Basking in newfound freedom,
Finally free of the venom,
Free of the poison and lies,
Free of the illusions painted before my eyes.
the internet can be such a cage.
 Dec 2024
JAMIL HUSSAIN
O’ Love Divine, supreme and wild,  
Thy spell has bound me, deep beguiled.  
I sit, a prisoner to thy thought,  
In rapture, lost—my soul is sought.  

Thy bliss, a cloud that wraps the skies,  
My sight doth see thee, all my eyes.  
Thy voice is the music of my ear,  
Thy touch, the pulse that draws me near.  

O’ Love, intoxicate me whole,  
Thy love the drink that fills my soul.  
I seek thee, ever, in the air,  
Thy presence found, both here and there.  

My heart, thy throne—thine image reigns,  
Thy beauty flows through all my veins.  
My tongue, thy love it ever speaks,  
In dreams of thee, my spirit seeks.  

My hands, they write the sacred rhyme,  
Thy love is carved in every line.  
My feet, in search of thee they go,  
Thy path a flame in every flow.  

O’ Love Divine, thy call, I hear,  
In every breath, thou art so near.  
Thy essence, rooted deep in me,  
A yearning soul, thy light I see.  

For in thee, I am made whole,  
And in thy love, I find my soul.  
O’ Love Divine, supreme and pure,  
Thy bliss, forever, shall endure.
Ode to Divine Love 16/12/2024 © All Rights Reserved by Jamil Hussain
 Dec 2024
Traveler
The simplicity of rhymes
freely flows
through the readers mind.
As simplistic words unravel
in an array of poetic babble
we channel
the memes of our muses.

No forced word can capture,
no college can teach
the aesthetics of laughter,
the glamour of grief.

The essay of brilliance
awaits in the zone.
The Muse and the Master
in the hearts of gold.
Traveler Tim
 Dec 2024
JAMIL HUSSAIN
O'  
P r e t t i e s t —  
I breathe, and life to my desires springs,  
Like birds that soar on unseen wings.  
With each new breath, my hopes I sow,  
A garden where my passions grow.  
If, gentle eyes, thou dost decree,  
Shall I, with boldness, truly be?  
In thee, my soul would rise to see  
The world in unrestrained decree.  

O'  
W i s h i n g —  
Within my heart, each beat doth tell,  
A thousand loves that in me dwell.  
Each pulse a longing, soft and true,  
A yearning deep for none but you.  
If thy modesty, like morning light,  
Beams soft upon this endless night,  
Shall I, unashamed, pursue the way,  
And in thy presence, bold display?
Audacity of the Heart 15/12/2024 © All Rights Reserved by Jamil Hussain
 Dec 2024
Elizabeth Kelly
You were born on a Wednesday.
It was snowing, I think.
I nearly died, and you too,
My blood pressure screaming as your heart rate bobbed and weaved,
A reaction to the terrible ordeal of being born.

The night I learned you were a girl
I lay in bed alone and asked you about yourself.
What is your name?
Beatrice,
you said.
Bee.
A name all your own, belonging to only you.
Beatrice the First:
Shakespeare’s snap dragon heroine;
Dante’s ethereal guide.
Traveler and pollinator;
Wings and a stinger.

Daddy was scared but I didn’t know until later.
He made jokes and played “Something’s Rattling, Cowpoke” by Ben Gibbard on the Bluetooth and held my right leg when it was time to push.

And suddenly there you were.
More alive than the Holy Spirit on Sunday morning,
Bigger than poetry
Bright as a technicolor daydream
And so substantial.
We did it. We made it.

The Tibetans believe that we are all wandering souls.
That crazy movie, Enter the Void, I think about it all the time.

We choose.

Did you choose me?
A willful, chronically sleep-deprived, anxious mess?
How did you know it would work out?
How did you know that my life would not start until, with an audience of doctors and nurses and your family, you were laid in my arms that cold night?
I have such doubts but this I know:
I will choose you every moment of every day and  still
it will not be enough to repay you for giving me the gift of yourself.
 Dec 2024
SiouxF
Poetry has a way of hiding
Itself in a dried up riverbed.
Inspiration of nothingness.
Words at tongue’s tip,
Can’t quite grasp…
And then all of a sudden,
Words flow like the mighty Amazon
During the wettest season,
Tumbling over each other
In their rush to be writ upon the page.
Feast or famine,
All or nothing.
 Dec 2024
Traveler
The drones have made themselves known.
Who knows where they come from
who knows where they go?
This could be the end for all we know.
White blinking lights swarm the skys,
sporadic patterns, deep state lies.

It seems that we are accelerating into crazy.
But our leaders assures there is no threat.
(How would they know?)

P.s Where can I purchase one of these crafts?
Traveler Tim
 Dec 2024
King of Limericks
There’s a mind that relentlessly rioted
And honestly couldn’t be quieted
Distraught by illusion  
It hungered for fusion
Like Plato’s original dyad did
Teachings of Buddha with a dash of neo-Platonism. Unifying the Self through the union of Eastern and Western philosophy.
 Dec 2024
Khoisan
The ocean is vast
and
the shallows deep
bounded
by
predators
in the devil's keep
.
 Dec 2024
David P Carroll
In Palestine where little
Children are sad every day
And there tears of there
Parents stain the land
Blood and tears and heartache
A d the screaming and crying echos
Around the world and the media
Tells lies about Palestine
And its history repeating
Its over and over again like world war two
Violence hate and ****** never ending

And the olive trees are set on fire
And the children can't even
Play it's just war today and
Their innocence at such a cost
Their futures in uncertainty unfurled

Palestinians crying at night and deep
In my heart I feel your pain and
For peace and justice near and far so
Lets end the darkness and hate and
Lord Jesus Christ I pray for the suffering

Though the pain runs deep and wide
In Palestine love and strength abide.
Peace And Love ❤️ 😍 💖
 Dec 2024
betterdays
Mid-day heat beats down
Shingle-back lizard lazes
On old rotting log

Termite smorgasbord
Dinner in pink tongues reach
Warm sun lies above
 Dec 2024
Dark n Beautiful
A violent rushing wind crept through my bedroom window,
bringing the Brooklyn air and the smell of fumes.

It's not a good combination at all.
When will I learn that the young Gen Z is more frustrated than us baby boomers?
When we are in bed, they are up all night.
When we are fully awake, they are about to lie down.
When we try to reach out to them,
They get annoyed easily.
Should we fold or unfold to the madness of this so-called new generation?
Fold to the madness of the new generation.
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