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A collection of stars
in my childhood jars
next to my little bed
morning all are dead.
  Mar 2023 Megan Parson
IrieSide
Persistent delving
into the mystery

an everpresent dose,
of ecstasy
this taste
and recognition
of hidden
meaning

reality,
the recognition
and awakening

the presence and stillness
of all that
Is

find your ground
and witness this mystery
in the present
and everlasting
moment

Awaken,
awaken,

to this meaningless
place
where laws seem to
hold it
together
yet the laws
are of the same
essence

unveil some energy
this uncovering
of vibration
If you colour me in
please feel to stray
beyond the lines.

Lines are only there
to remind us
that we're all different
so
cross over them
and
run riot through them.

I don't want to be what I am not
and I am far from perfect,

I'm just scribbles held together
by staples.

Use lots of blues
dabs of red
and
while you're at it
crayon me a bed
so I can sleep.
Megan Parson Mar 2023
Violet, like the bruises you've hidden.
Indigo, like the dark circles you've overwritten.
Blue, like the opinions they've seen zoned.
Green, like the jealousy you've known.
Yellow, like the golden cage you fly in.
Orange, like the red flags you've seen.
Red, like paint when you bleed.

Do we add colour to your life,
Or do you colour ours?
A women's day & holi write. Question is, can a few days make up for centuries worth of oppression? I hope we remember the women in our lives everyday, & not just on women's day. © Megan Parson 2023
Playing near the giant
I thought it fun to pirouette
        And seem to stumble,
Hands thrown out
And thus be captured.

Oh the shrieks and moans
Til I decided it was time
To be set free, and tried
         To twist out of that grasp
That never once relented.
ljm
I don't really remember writing this back in 1992. Did I?  If not, who did I steal it from?
Megan Parson Feb 2023
Life is war.

Peace, an illusion.

Like the mirage from afar.

Finally, it's all an illusion.
Thoughts while listening to "The Society of Spectacle" by Guy Debord on Philosophize This. Definitely recommend. © Megan Parson 2023
Megan Parson Dec 2022
We become part of nature,
part of sunflowers & leafy stature.
By the running brook, quiet creek,
Like snowflakes on jagged peaks.

By sunny beaches, which the horizon reaches,
In wispy woods & pristine beeches.
Below the dark, cold depths of the ocean,
Which moon tides draw in motion.

Tis where my soul would go,
For solitude, no friend, no foe.
An alternative perspective on death. © Megan Parson 2022
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