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M Eastman Jan 2020
I want to throw myself down a well
rag doll child's wish
Swallowed up by the
Expired medicine bottles
Slowly swimming koi fish
Khoisan Jan 2020
On that particular sunny day
I looked in the mirror
and saw a rainy day
embracing the silver lining
behind me stood the love
I had saved up for
touching my hair
and gently stroking the grey
Her love outshines the grey
Colm Jan 2020
Short the conscious span
Clicks mere seconds on a clock
Which ticks and talks more
Quietly than by we know
No conversation lasts long
A lot of what I write and struggle with is just the basic human emotion of emptiness. The realization that the new car, new friend, or newly arrived Amazon package will not fulfill your true hearts desire. This is life. God is God. And no enticing conversation will ever last.

Sunday Seven (or S7) is a series of tanka verses (57577) which I completed one cloudy Sunday afternoon. With topics ranging from the faithfulness of dawn to the depths if the ocean home, I hope you enjoy reading them and can appreciate the height and depth of this variety.
Colm Jan 2020
Look up like new day
Even in darkness before
Just as a promise
Holds no heat without fervence
So soon your sun warmth is born
Truth is, that the dawns first light will never let you down. Even if you cannot see it, due to the looming clouds, it is always there just waiting to warm your bones.

Sunday Seven (or S7) is a series of tanka verses (57577) which I completed one cloudy Sunday afternoon. With topics ranging from the faithfulness of dawn to the depths if the ocean home, I hope you enjoy reading them and can appreciate the height and depth of this variety.
Colm Jan 2020
No god of grand heights
Nor the devils depth be mine
Know only stillness
When I let you rest never
For I am you and your mind
This one was an interesting question to me at the time. What if God isn't neglectful, nor the devil always moving? I guess sometimes all that the mind needs is to be woken up so that it can lead itself astray. Thus is humanity perhaps. Very imperfect in heart and head.

Sunday Seven (or S7) is a series of tanka verses (57577) which I completed one cloudy Sunday afternoon. With topics ranging from the faithfulness of dawn to the depths if the ocean home, I hope you enjoy reading them and can appreciate the height and depth of this variety.
Colm Jan 2020
Bright fire turns to ashe
Sunlight turns to dark of night
And night to mourning
For it's loss of another
Moonlit loverboys embrace
57577 - How sweet
Colm Jan 2020
With that
A weariness crept up close upon me
Without a word or caustic look
More silent than a shadow stalks
More lonely than an abandoned Rook
It jumped and I fell fast asleep
Surely as weariness, consciousness, and companionship exist
I feel, as if only one of these can be
Whence awake
A creeping weariness alive
TF Jan 2020
The truth which I suppose had haunted me in these recent times
In reverence here you shall rest
While I attempt to portray you
To frame you
For those to yet view the imperfect picture
You shall see the drapes pulled away
Inspect the canvas worn with age
The splintered heart
Name these things
For the soul needs testimony
And in these things there is bounty
Rejoice! For is that not enough?
For you to exist whilst the ideal does not
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