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Anthony Pierre Nov 2019
Fear not the unknown
Rather, embrace its dark void
In it true self's found.
Haiku's Dark Void. A Journey Towards Self Actualization
Makenzie Marie Mar 2019
No matter what’s in store
Never stop becoming
Who you are at your core.
Absent Motility Against Staid Inertia

impossible to describe listlessness
     bedeviling this body electric aye attest
motivation to counter glumness
     seizes motility temporarily

     to stave off staid purposeless at best,
yet aware poetic obfuscation chest
barely delineates fierce hopelessness
     assailing me,

     when'r awake and/or at everest
feeding melancholy feedback loop
     sparring against faintest
momentum - writhing psyche,

     asper an unwelcome guest
emotional friction
     bringing motionlessness,
     where lunging futility

     summoning ability
     to muster joie de vivre
     defeated willpower
     no matter mental health

     propped up
     with pharmacological medications
     prescribed by Doctor George Adams be hest,
yet tis NOT suicide, but general malaise
     as if poison (or stung by a scorpion) jest

permeates thy being
     sparking existential angst
     hoop fully communicating figurative soffits
     facilitating emotional bulwark lest

ye **** sitter
     this lix spittled chap messed
up in the head, but also that empty nest
syndrome - aa bird den, and nefarious pest

disallowing merrily rowing my boat
     subjected to turbulence that doth wrinkle
     space/time continuum quest
punctuating any attempt

     to take fig yurt heave Newtonian rest
without being assailed
     of drab quotidian predictability
     re: envious papa

     towards daughters adventurous lives
     he rejoices (albeit vicariously)
respective lives where offspring lasso lassitude,
     viz both their electric kool aid acid test
how fate didst in vest
waning wily woebegone zest!
Andreas Simic Mar 2018
A is the first letter of the alphabet does it mean that it is number 1
Andreas begins with an A does this mean I am the number one son

All I know is when Mom selected my name I became fair game
Although “attention deficit” would be more apt just the same

Another thought to ponder is why I like to wander so much
Amazingly enough it's not what you think as such

Achievement is my middle name some say keener should be it
After much thought I have to agree that’s a better fit

Acclaimed I am not with no fame to call my own
Against the headwinds of life the door has many times been shown

An athlete I aspired to become a star in track no less
Aptly I would come up the rear once more with little success

Always the optimist my attention turned to girls
Ablaze that theory went even for those with curls

Aging has now firmly set in
Actualization now being taken for a spin

Awareness as to who I am
Allows me to confess I’d rather be a “Sam”

Anchors away I say
Additional admissions left for another day

Andreas Simic
Shane Leigh Aug 2017
Sweat drops.
Blue skies.
I feel my irregular heartbeat,
Pounding ferociously against my chest.
He lets out a laugh that breaks the silence,
And I take harrowing breaths of fresh air.
My heart, that I had so rashly shunned,
Now pounding twice as furiously -
Thrashing and rattling the cage that
I had so eagerly condemned it to.

His smile and laughter
Vanquishing the iron bars of my self-exiled *****
As if they were nothing but rotting limbs on old bark.
Forever keeping me company on my journey -
An endless jaunt that, now, does not seem void of meaning.
There is no man that can make me feel so embarrassed,
So flustered, or so coveted in desire as he -
The one with an innocent glance and a jesting smile.

I look away,
Blushing red,
And before I take another step away from him,
I come to an epiphanous actualization -
I cannot take for granted how incredible this moment is,
Because I love him.

I blush - once again - reveling in my realization,
Smiling silently to myself.
© Shane Leigh
I've made a few little adjustments to this piece. As much as I loved it before, I love it more now with the few little "tweeks" that I have made.
Michalis Jul 2017
Hear my roar,
******* bitterness,
feel my urges of temptation!

Oh, thou pain of acceptance,
Oh, thou cutting knifes of belonging..
So much for inclusion,
the most destroying illusion!

Have I been fearful?..
I certainly have!
Have I been pretending?..
To the uttermost!

yet, something disturbs me now..

My heart is torn apart,
a seed to arise,
an original to despise.

Growing through the mud here,
pass the lonely towers,
above the cities of void,
unto the edge of the universe,
and further into emptiness!

Only He can accept Me,
Only He can relate to Me,
and as faithful as the morning sun,
I’ll lay my life upon His Alter of Mercy.

Hear my roar,
******* bitterness,
but behold!
I shall drink His water of redemption!
A poem I wrote 4 years ago as I began walking in earnest towards my own freedom and self-actualization!
I am the soiled dove
Often used never loved
beginning from a tender age
I'd nothing else by which to gage
the aim and purpose of all the flatter
Love I thought was the heart of the matter
convinced myself heaven above
forgave this emotional love
let him control my life
thought I would be his wife
At a hundred parties, we'd attend
He loaned me out to all his friends
He told me this was proof that I loved him
Finally, I realized this life so grim
I used my body to gain love
it came like a bolt from above
I was just an object
treated with gross disrespect
****'m and the horse he rode in on
I'm taking back my pudendum
self-respect and declaring me myself
putting your love and ******* on a shelf
I'll **** you if you ever touch me again
Romali Arora Feb 2017
Sometimes I wonder
What would the sun do
if it wouldn’t give us light?
What would the moon do
if it didn’t illuminate the night?
One the eliminator of darkness
The other one makes it beautiful
We are all living with a purpose
Some know it
Some, unaware of the mysterious truth
Let’s face it
We are living a life of routines
Our days rushing one into the other
We are all ceasing without meaning
Existing, fading,
Waiting to be discovered...
We're all born with a purpose in life. Some know it right from the beginning, while some of us are lost souls looking for a meaning. While some live life to the fullest, there are others hiding from the world because of everything that once scarred them. We're all living a life of oblivion. And the truth is far from what we think we are living...
Alex Hoffman Sep 2015
Though the first carried more miles, the second day of the hike was totally and unapologetically uphill. 
When you ascend, hiking becomes the zen of endurance.

First, you are stripped of all the pleasures of hiking. Your excitement is boiled into lactic acid. Your love for the trail is baked, hardened and dehydrated into thoughts of laying down in the sun until the heat shrivels you into an unconscious raisin.

Try as you may to put on your “isn’t hiking just a slice of heaven?” face, strangers passing you on the downhill stride can only see your “PLEASE GOD, HELP ME OR ******* **** ME” face.

As much as hiking really is a small slice of heaven, there is no denying the living-death of taking 10 straight miles to the knees under the chaffing hell of a 50 pound sack in the relentless sun. 

But when you’re back in an office, sitting on your cushy little ergonomic chair, you long for the sweat and the torture that forces your mind to the ankle deathtraps of mountain terrain. To the deep valley behind and below you, and the crystal basin at the foot of the granite Giants.

The worst thing you can do is ignore the pain—that makes it relentless. Instead you focus on the pain until you become it. The only thing left is the moment between each step, when you remember why you are here and what it is worth. Every time your foot touches dirt, it leaves twice the footprint. One on the mountain and another in your memory where you will safeguard the misery of your ascent and hold on for dear life. One day, when your knees are too weak and your body can no longer table your pack, all the pleasures and joys of the trail that you once thought dissipated in the steam of uphill toil will come rushing back with the magnified strength of every year between you and the present you once knew and respected enough to actually live.

And if you didn’t, if you let it only be pain to get through and not to focus or dwell on, then that is what it is and will always be. A dull memory of pain, dark and somber and incomplete.
Wrote this after a backpacking trip to Yosemite Valley. It's accompanied by a photo, which you can see here:

— The End —