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AmazingsanPoetry Mar 2020
THE POWER OF BELIEVE..
drowning he was
Falling he was..
Losing sanity he was..
Derailed he was..
Frustrated he was..
Confused he was.
Lost he was.
Deserted he was..
Buried he was...
And the slanderers rejoiced..
Thinketh they..
Never will he rise again...
Then he felt a paradigm shift..
A shift like none other..
A shift accompanied by everything benevolent...
It is,  the slanderers whispered, a phantom bone disease..
Let they wander and dawdle for they are steeped in a quagmire of visibility lest a veil is upon all their sensory nerves, depriving them the beauty and the quintessence of the invisible...
But he is/has...
No more drowning, but drinks from the fountain of knowledge,
Spiced with milk and honey..
No more falling but floating in void..
No more losing sanity but unravelled the mystery of true sanity..
No more derailed but dandified...
No more frustrated but ferociously inspired..
No more confused but concentrated..
No more lost in darkness but guided by light..
No more deserted..
No more Buried but sprouted..
Now..
El magnifico... He is..
The power of believe...
Norbert Tasev Jan 2022
If I could still have a clinging, wide, hopeful hope; When in the cell-deep of my home I could bend my discouraged, shipwrecked head In my sweetheart's balmy, cradling lap; When our beating heartbeats in the bantering Universe would blaze As they would be reconciled together, and the Past would hold easy, useful trophies, Or secrets of prey! Even if the pieces of Existence were exchanged in a chess-board order on the plane of our little lives, love as a sure point of exit for our restless hearts!


If I could have a comfortable, cushioned rocking-chair; I would be lulled by the pearly, truth-telling voice of my angel, As when she cellists in a spacious concert hall, In evening gowns of protection! I would open the ghastly-grimacing scars of my soul, and let its caressing, dandified kisses dangle the sins of my unworthy years of *******! In an embracing, romantic meeting, the holy birth-moment of Immortality might be found!


We would feel, in a time of distress, our musical heart-chalice throbbing together! With its roaring waves would sing tiny, secret echo-choes of autumn's Theiresias-walves above us: nor on steep Sisyphus-paths would we give Fate her rightful sanction to give up the goal, and feel ourselves smaller! Nor should we now, in the foreseeable world, necessarily distress ourselves as two orphaned children!


It would be a fabulous, dreamy consolation, a true, priceless treasure-gift, if we could see together, in the sacred sparks of cherishing halo-eyes, the happy-sadness of our late childhood, and cease all petty anxiety at the sneaking portents of the Coming!

— The End —