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Maria Shabalin Dec 2022
I saw the life in the trees
Looked past death’s taxes and fees
Crept into locked corridors to see
Nothing could catch up with me

Control kept hands off of my heart
Past baggage away I would cart
Seasons blessed the shadows of the moon
All the while I was becoming the neighborhood loon

Reality kicked my side one day in June
Days of bliss dragged until it was too soon
I realized love was never floating around
And just like that I wanted to be put in the ground
Maria Shabalin Dec 2022
As the sun sets on the horizon,
I am left to ponder, all alone.
I think about how varied life has been,
How I’ve failed to see that this is what it is all about.

The rising and falling of the tide,
The waxing and waning of the moon.
The fleeting feelings of a moment,
And the firm hold that forever has.

I often sit and wonder how awful it all is;
The present moment is too much to carry,
But as I listen to an old song
I suddenly recall that I’ve lived many lives.

I recall seasons upon seasons,
All seemingly so different
Beautiful in their diversity and complexity
How thick I was to forget it all!

I’m not regressing or breaking down,
I am descending into the depths-
The uncharted territories of life
And bringing a vastness to my soul.

It’s so refreshing to remember
The true nature of this life:
To explore the highest of heights,
The thickest of fogs, and feel what it is like atop the lightest of feathers.

Au revoir!
You know those great thoughts you have when you’re half asleep waiting to knock out? Well, I had one of those and I just realized that every season in my life has been so different. I literally gasped when I realized the evolution of my soul. I’ve seldom thought this way lately, but WOW! what a joyous thing it is to be alive and just to experience. Whether we label it good or bad, fun or just tedious, bullsh*t or utter beauty - it’s building our perspective no matter what. Très cool, don’t you think?
Maria Shabalin Dec 2022
Pretty people I don’t really care for
Beds I don’t make
Souls that walk barefoot
Or people that are bare
I can’t hug a stranger
For someone might be led astray
A curse or a blessing
It’s not up to me to say
They always say it’s up to god
But god doesn’t make much sense
I only know myself
And even that I can’t explain
Maria Shabalin Nov 2022
Euphoria spellbinding me into complacency
Makes a dream of liberation
Too far to become reality
A carousel spinning while I sit still
Finding myself captive
Not against my own will
Colors that placate the mind
Glitter seeming sound like gold
Silver linings that I may never find
One may tell me and never be told  
These days that hold me prisoner
Distracted, divisive, and dead
My arms that feel heavier
When I wake from a dreaming bed  
How I wish to know true freedom
For captivity I breathe in still
Confined by the early stardom
And running from a future bill
Maria Shabalin Jun 2022
Feel my heart’s attention
You can hear it
Buried deep, pounding like thunder
Thun, thun, done.
Done are the days where I’ve loved you
So few they seemed
Hours onto hours
Then nothing complete
Done are the days of this youthful mourning
So little of love was seen.
from my diary 2 years ago
Maria Shabalin May 2022
The fumes from my paintings are making me high
or am i feeling that feeling you keep chasing
wait, did you just whisper to me that we
share that goal of chasing highs
no not of chasing but of being
in love with one another
maybe im just crazy
slowly coming to
nothing but a
single word
children.
you get what you get and you don't get upset
Maria Shabalin May 2022
I see the same car everywhere,
I am passing it I say,
I entertain that its not fair,
Then I look away.
Things that I don't want to see,
But I can't escape,
All the things that used to be,
I've shoved behind the drape.
It is all a show after all,
Can't you understand?
The forces that are mighty and tall,
Are scheming from another land.
You are but a pawn in the game,
However, do not be discouraged,
Your angels are not to blame,
They are the reason it is far you've journeyed.
Everything will be explained,
When you arrive home,
All the things that drive you mad,
will finally leave you to roam.
No, it is not mistake,
No, it's not just in your head,
The events that occur when you're awake,
Are as planned as blood is red.
I experience a lot of things that are not just mere coincidence. Following my mystical logic, everything I see is divinely guided and planned. What is the purpose of seeing things from my past that remind me of things I've long ago packed away? I don't know. Do I feel annoyed and sometimes not at ease because of synchronicities? Yes. Well, here we are. A poem.
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