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 Dec 2014 Phosphorimental
ryn

       you
               secretly
                       wishing, for
                              your writes to be
                                noticed•simple sign
                             that they have not been
                          missed•with every view
                     and every like•your popu-
               larity does spike•somewhat
          places your art on the poetry
      map•between major players,     
  you close the gap•constantly      
checking to see  who's been              
reading•you're always deli-               
ghted to see the 'yellow                      
lightning'
•a wish...                            
    for those who                             
     are writ-                    
ing      

secretly hope not only for your words to be
reaching far and wide, but also... trending
* the above does not apply to everyone here.
Instead of pondering
upon lack
she is inspired
by beauty
and the bounty
within reach
Well, at least for today
12/7/2014
I should've guessed, I should've known.
If there's a lightning, thunder will come.

That I was a guest, this wasn't my home,
but I was just too afraid to be alone.

Winds might change after tomorrow
and the sea my pain could somehow swallow.

But today there's this mountain of sorrow,
that blocks the sun, and makes me feel hollow.
 Nov 2014 Phosphorimental
Sana
Your gaze, as brightest stars in Milky Way
Your touch, warmest than sun rays
Your Voice, conch shell rhythm
Afar, yet nearest than ones heart

Your Being, ones shelter in stumble and fall
Cuddled asleep in your womb from worldly bawls

Your helpful hands stretched miles to foes or friends
Subsiding desires, what say of your kindness lent

O' son of Adam! worthy of such swaggering pride in this mud vessel
For as warm as fire for cold friends
Pure as water for their thirst to quench

But then, arrogate; how they call you, agreeing
None but the One revealed this highest being

O' naif son of Adam!
Rewarding oneself with noble note?
As a pharaoh who bestows
Remember the pledge and know the burden bore upon

Think you can repay with what makes you whole?
With all owned fortune, spirit or perhaps your very soul

Behold;
For what you claim yours, is not even owned
To Him it belongs,
To Him it returns
 Nov 2014 Phosphorimental
Pax
We* often *Owned, what We don’t Own.
Being  Possessive, We become Invasive.

                 - We often Neutralize, what We can’t Realize.
                     - Full Realization comes after the Actual Destruction.
Creating our own Ending.



*© Pax
a philosophical pondering of mine and my concerns about how WE(humans) are being destructive in our own world & nature itself or sometimes we are too blind to notice the destructive path we walk upon, realizing too late.

if you want to know more about my thoughts about this poem follow this link here:    http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/willyampax/1328378/
 Nov 2014 Phosphorimental
Pax
Horror speaks in silence
    and Fear speaks in signs
              it’s written on my face
                        and on the faces I see.

How did I end up here?

A masked man brought us food.
The smell of it drives us mad in hunger.
We eat like we're crazy.
Devouring it like messy animals.

I see the eyes of superiority
            in the sight of the masked man.
I look at them with deep curiosity.
He looks back with a look of intent.
Deep blue eyes inspect the whole me.
then I realized, everyone, including me
            wears nothing but just two pieces of
                                                      undergarments.                
I quickly cover my well-being,
then he just walks away.

I felt ***** ,
            Weary,
and Cold in this rusty dark place.
Where are we going?
Our future is uncertain.
I felt that our life is for sale,
like animals going to be slaughtered.

Sleep is taking my reality
Hoping that dreams will wash away
            the fear, horror and uncertainty along the way.                      




*© Pax
written May 21, 2012

Justice is blind when money talks
people who treats women as a pleasure tool is just cruel
this poem tackles about white slavery

This is reality, weather we see it or not. A sad case that still keeps on going around the world.

I thank you all for reading.
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