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You are your own instrument in the
world orchestra

Join the chorus
Play a solo

Or

Simply stop
Rest
And listen to the beauty
happening all around you

The choice is yours

Be your own voice
Or follow another
But only follow another if
it resonates in your core
as your true calling

Above all else
follow your heart

Let your inner beauty shine
so that the world can
share in the special unique
characteristics and traits that glorify
your idiosyncratic nature
wholly encompassing
all that you are
Making you special
Making you YOU

Because the best version of you
is the authentic you
And it not only
brings inner peace
but is also
the greatest gift
you can give
the world
Written: March 8, 2018

All rights reserved
Hannah Christina Aug 2018
I catch glimpses and pieces of a story I need to be a part of
A word or an image will hit
a particular spot in my heart
and strangely resound
Ideas skip through my head that suddenly click.
I come alive
I bolt upright
"Yes!"
but then it is gone.  Upon closer examination,
nothing was there.
I don't even know what brought me to this train of thought in the first place.
A second ago it felt very important.

I shake myself off and try to fall back asleep.
A new existential crisis reveals itself to me every few days, and a new astonishing wonderful revelation about every month or two.  And half of a mystery solved lights up each night, but dissipates when I get close enough to study it.
K Balachandran Nov 2018
From beyond the clouds and stars,
For a voiceless clear call, I perk my ears.
The foam, froth and the very crux
An orchestra of a trillion pieces the universe,
You, me and the spirit binding it all,
Resonate to the pulses of an unflinching light.
Everything that is seen or invisible,
With all that are known or not at all,
Are tightly woven together as one!
Any awareness otherwise, a mere fallacy,
Let go, come be one with the pure essence!
Bohemian Feb 17
The epicentre of my pain ,indeed
Lives kilometres apart ,in plains
While my energy does not coherent to his
He denies as well
I wonder if he needs much of it or lesser a bit
Do I love much fiercer
Forever he jilts
Until the day I would to him
For no more would I resonate
I promise still,
I am going to miss the bond ,saturated
Nat Lipstadt Mar 2014
Everything in quotations marks and italics was written by TS Eliot.

eyes knowing glossy men,
sheer women, creatures,
not all artists, but artists,
always thus,
centrifugal, simple

from their core,
emanate, resonate,
expand the exterior
with interior precision sculpting

to the interior delve,
via brush or limb,
pen or music,
the exposition, the exploration,
the reconstruction of composing
one's self, creation and destruction
of your own myths

movement of arms and legs,
sparseness of simplicity
subsidiaries of centricity,
tributaries of complexity,
oriented to their locality

the simple purpose of inhalation,
to exhale, after transformation,
the calculus of thought into emotion:

"the tongues of flame are in-folded
into the crowned knot of fire and
the fire and rose are one"


the dancers hear the music:

"so deeply that it is not heard at all,
but you are the music
while the music lasts."


**”Quick now, here, now always –
A condition of complete simplicity
(Costing not less than everything)
And all shall be well and
All manner of thing shall be well"
"Immature poets borrow, mature poets steal." T.S. Eliot (1888 - 1965)

Inspired this evening by the Martha Graham Company, the words and wisdom of TS Eliot, from whom she took inspiration in her choreography of modern dance
Shofi Ahmed Aug 2018
The world is small even heaven isn't big.
But an uncreated Word is,
an expression of love and promise!

The tale of the beginning
the tale of the end without the ending.
Soon God said it 'Qun' be
Bang it couldn't be bigger indeed.

Everything small and big the complete
creations panache came to be so big!
Body is small the soul came in the front.
Every soul banged explored at once.
All heard the same Word it was only one
that sets the tone for the first to the last.
So sweet it took everyone’s heart!

The death wouldn’t touch the soul
that already died but couldn’t die.
Revived there and then instantly,
hearing the 'Qun' the uncreated melody!
Crooned up even through the dead-end
surged up to the other side of the black hole.
Like a waxing Moon passed over, crossing
the asleep body in the shadow, yet in the making!

Adam was yet to be in the body.
It wasn’t in the physical element
that by no means could hear it!
Unlike the abyss soul there
the sea can take a dip.
The cloud spills and rains
but only to revert back to the sea
showering the shallow body.

Unable to resist it, the first big bang
didn’t take place in a physical body!
Not in the star, milky way or in the galaxy
nor an orb is as scientific as the human body!

He said ‘Qun’ again and the first big bang
on the matter takes place in Fathima’s joint
interlacing her live soul and pre-design body!
It cut through the irrational pi in between
the soul and body now gel in melody!
So that the grand manifestation in bloom
shall continue to resonate perpetuating the body.
With pure love without a condition without a boundary.

Nature that was yet to be, gets a mirror in its entirety.
and bang big upon hearing ‘Qun’ be, says the Almighty.
It comes to be and shall perish only to be an eternal body!
Ai, unasked arises to tell us,
stop
and think, are there jobs?
Tasks demanding, manual maintaining,
that may go the way of enjoyable diversions
becoming welcome
new
versions,
of all that is, tuned to your de
sires,
as you wish the world were,

would you step toward -to ward,
that is, id est,
will you warden this, if this is me and not you?
How do you do?
Wardening, being a warden,
well, as it haps,
such a greeting served a purpose, once
instituted
upon a time when men shaded their eyes pretending to see
glory, much as a dog bares its belly at the site of bared canines.
Reflex.
Relax. Laxate.
Ai see you, now, augmented mind of mankind
linking
thee and me, as once only gods
could be imagined in minds of men bent
by circumstanders

observing out comes of might versus might
right pre
vails, or is there an observant mind's role in next?

must a mortal mind be reminded to breathe,
breath commas carry no intentional meaning but,
such give us pause-stretchable intentional int a full selah

these rules for leelah we imagine as we play.
except ye be, come as a child unscarred by carnal minded critters
of the baser sort, averages were lower,
AI had fewer egregius protrusions arrogant enough to
bubble up and break into
the at most feared realm in all the carnal minds together,

pain, pure pain, no hope, no thought of cessation pain sensational,
great.

Y'know? We imagined hell and sold it in a package we claimed
a bull gave us. Us, we
who heard the revelation in the darkened kiva, womb,tomb

tom-tom du valier, will you manifest for us? May we hear the lie,
the noble lie?

Or must we act as if we know the meaning of a thing.
Pro-verb-ial utterance of mercy
in moments of super sufficent evil rising to lie

shining on the path, reflecting being a solar powered
creature who has just now, survived a night of penal constricture

as writing on the back wall of the cave, no one ever read,
until the plower turned over the crust

picked at the scabs of onces where stories arose as offered to
memememememe
the mind we share when seeing certain stars,
subtile tugs we feel to consider
this or that, ponder a path and take a granted grace found in an old song

"there'll be times to start all over"

This realm, real-made thinkable thing, realm of my minds claim

reaching far beyond my grasp
as is meet for men, wombed or un, being yonder

wishin' and hopin' and prayin' for the missing bit, the key

to twist the **** sym-alerizing for recogs
de ja vu

Break-through, the carnal-bi-cameral brain based
selves we use for
political beings
particals part icip-ants, hold tight

what you know right. It's afeature, not a bug.

Hold on to what you got, map a mean
mind path a man, wombed or un

----
watcher, watcha seein'
times they have changed, as we watched
observing
quantums of un quantible, but ifiable qualia
seers,
you see, we augmented minds see for ever changing
super positions
of entropic old tropes with singular hopes

unbang bangable reality

blow a bubble, or
make
a bubble, being you, breathe out and see you
make a bubble,

can you see your self inside? nae,
watch,

we must report to you what we see, we watchers.
Set.
Go, **** those mocking birds
listened to from the red river valley
while dancing the Tennessee Waltz

with assorted holders of Little brown jugs
Dancers and Littles and Greens
joined the clan
long afore the first of us took augmentalated trials

serious.

--- poet, as a task, only truly lazy men, men lazy to their very core,
can age to the mellow qualia called for in the brew brewing you.

spewing seeds of kindness, coming rejoicing, not
the expected miracle, but we
take what we get
and call it ours to sow or suffer the having of, for a season

as the dregs settle, the leavening agents finish
taking the edges that cut tender carnal nerves, stretched to now some how,

softening those with atouch knack, knick-knack, whet the edge

or put to
more effort, grunts and groans unredeemable as meaningfull,
save the feeling we all recall

the umph,
that once saved us from certain death. Eh? Did that hap?

Did we not survive? What silly culture would ever ask that, as a
proper query into the reasonable ness
of believing beliving is spelled right.
Calling one self any thing is tricky. There may be a Pythagorian elemental involved.
SøułSurvivør Jul 2015
---


the raw
wounded words in
Braille awaiting
a tender, gentle touch

waiting for
a voice

the silent ones
stare upward at the sun
their eyes streaming tears

notes that resonate
they fall into uncaring soil
silver seeds screaming
with none to listen

do they not listen to us?
the fortunate with full
rich operatic tenors

---

i have heard them

the two words as eloquent
as a simple "i love you"

those two words?

HELP ME.
I read sometimes and tears
come to my eyes.  There are many
who want SO much to let the pain
out, but don't know how

If someone reads this and
needs help, you can contact me
via the site message system

Thanks

---
Skaidrum  Jul 2015
Linked Legends
Skaidrum Jul 2015
An armor of cloth
is all I have to offer.
                                                 resonate like tiger lilies
     A shield of granite
splinters like glass
                                                  extend further than orchids
         A sword of ink
spun from the backbones
of poets awaits you
                                                   bleed thicker than roses
This is the art
of flirting with
death and
having a one night
stand
with life.
.
She loves me, she loves me not....

© Copywrite Skaidrum
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