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 Jan 2016 John B
PaperclipPoems
I see beauty in you,
Through your kindness.

Where the rest of the world may only see a man
I see a savior.
I see passion and strength.

I see you and I feel love.
I feel that the human race may have a real chance at survival and our world may be saved.

Your voice echoes through my mind and ripples through my veins.
I listen to you because I believe in you.
I believe in what you stand for.

I wish to be nowhere else but here, with you.
My thoughts of him.
 Jan 2016 John B
PaperclipPoems
He walks with himself
He is his own best company.
He pushes forward and you often do not notice
You ignore his plead but you see him wander
A breathing tumble ****.
Shrubbish, wobbly, and *****
He zig zags through the crowd
Sometimes he screams and he too cries
Just like you
Sometimes he trembles in the night
Just like you
Sometimes he dreams of better days
Just like you.
A brief and scattered poem about a homeless man I encountered.
 Jan 2016 John B
PaperclipPoems
You think you know me
Because you know of patterns
You know the way of people
And you've been told the way the world turns..

You expect my next move
As if we are playing a game of chess
And you anticipate your next win
Upon my unmoved guess..

I tell you now,
that you know nothing of my mind
I move with the waves of my heart
My chosen next move is mine.
All it takes
to be a Mystic
is to be willing
to take mental risks
for a chance at greater understanding;

All it takes
to be a Mystic
is to delve into the Void,
come back with some new thing
and share that thing with the World;

All it takes
to be a Mystic
is to be sensitive
to one's own Path
reminding others of theirs;

All it takes
to be a Mystic
is to not be afraid
to defy your Time, peers and Culture
to bring forth the Divinity inherent in everything;

All it takes
to be a Mystic
is not not be deterred
by what you are told, but instead
to be guided by what you feel truest in yourself;

All it takes
to be a Mystic
is to be able to interpret
and take things symbolically,
Mythos and Logos, synesthetically creating a new mutual Reality;

All it takes
to be a Mystic
is to be willing and able
to be a Prism for the Divine;
to purify the Mirror of your being;

All it takes
to be a Mystic
is to be Artistic; Creative and Imaginative,
not that the Mystic must be an Artist, or that any Artist is a Mystic,
but that the Mystic is most naturally expressed through the various Artistic mediums;

To be an example for the masses
of just how the many are One
as One is truly the many
and thus All is Divine:

How the Universe itself
and all it's inhabitants
are the expressions
reflections and
manifestations
of the Godself;
An illusion,
A Dream:
Godself
and self
is One.

--
All is a Chapel of Sacred Mirrors
divided by Mind
into Self and Other,
but all is truly Godself:
Collective Unconscious and Personal Conscious,
Brahman and Ātman,
Godself and Self;
One in the same.

Tat tvam asi.

All it takes
to be a Mystic
is to be willing and able
to look inward and learn:

Godself and Self;
One in the Same.
I I I I was immersed into Maria's  mystic  Veil  
      A relieving elegant relish of Rilke's mystic mist
Husked my binary perception as an Earthquake
       Easily brimms off the mountainpeak white frozen blanket
And helps Angels to swoon for a magnificent time lapse speed-->
        Up ornaments stiched with The Divine craft and Love on a
Flying carpet infatuated and melting from Sun's Immense impact
        When making love twice a day, Lovingly fulfilled with an
Intimate bluhing beauty of dancing Clouds de Dawn trying to kiss
       Dusk Cloudy deliverance. Resolve probably lied in many times
Read fluttering pages gazing Smiling Buddha who Knows  of   blissfi  pi  Lyrical     Mandolin   Elegies Obsessed With Seeking Answers By  
         Pressing against  Many  Hearts  Foolishly Misinterpreted
Pointless Colouring As An Act Of Reciprocal Love To  Central Black         Portals        Seeing      Thee      Gazed     Into   Intricate     Reminiscing
Me of Tempus Fugit Fragile Sudden Sadness Easily Evoken By You  
:::::
Written by
Impeccable Space Poetess
 Jan 2016 John B
Samuel Hesed
Her brown eyes crept up to me.
Delicate and wide.

I could see the love of her mother,
And pride of her father.

A universe stretched out farther then the eye could see,
Filled with shining stars,
And faceless scars.

Her stare had an ingenious beauty.
Like a meadowless daisy.

Her glare had an artless grace,
Like colorless vase.

This glow was naive from the broken lives,
Wondering on this fallen world.

This credulous light,
Waiting to be ripped by jealousy.

I almost wanted to hold her there,
Away from the horrors in life.
Far from Apollyon's hands,
Like a guardian in the night.

Her innocents daring to walk on this thin rope,
Called hope.

Then, I saw with my waking eyes.
A white aisle covered by heavens flowers,
Congregations starring at her beautiful smile.
Oh, what a lovely mile.

For, there I knew
Her life was a magnificent design-
That wasn't mine.

I let her go into the hands of the divine,
Where she waits for her Valentine.

Oh, Lord I know you will hold her tight,
As she waits for her fearless knight.
Copyright © 2015 Paul Forbes All Rights Reserved
 Jan 2016 John B
Dana Colgan
Ive given up
on you,
on me.
On you and me.

For you will
never
Be for me.

And thats
OK.
Or at least
it will be.
 Jan 2016 John B
Dana Colgan
Miles of road ahead of her,
With miles and miles behind.

Exhausted from the journey,
All aid and kindness declined.

Clouds above get darker,
Where once the sun shined.

On and on she will travel,
Until all becomes aligned.
 Jan 2016 John B
Dana Colgan
Lethargy follows the facade
But I can no longer pretend.
This is how it has always been.
How it always will be.
 Jan 2016 John B
The Dedpoet
I don't belong here
In this flesh
Going to this dirt,
I belong to
the fire, the wind,
The sky.....
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