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Tetiana Dec 2024
Quietly in the forest
submissively being smallest
pines stand.
The snow covers land,
it hides pines from evil,
and cools down fever.

Everything in the forest is numb,
waiting for the sun.
When will spring come?
The trees propped up heavy sky,
but cold winter will cry
with melted snow ...
... and then die.

Birds don't sing
waiting for spring
and the wind died down.
But spring is coming
helping the wind to blow out
this snow.

This ice will melt and then flow,
the ground will soak up all blood.
The nature renews
and young grass will grow though mud.

And storms then will shake
mercilessly these trees
and all bad just with ease.

Then flowers will bloom
letting world come alive,
and mentions of gloom all will dry
letting nature to thrive.

--
(Ukrainian)

Спокійно у лісі
Покірно під снігом
Сосни стоять.
Той сніг як завіса
Сховає від зла,
Нехай собі сплять.

Все в лісі завмерло,
Чекає на сонце,
Весни ще нема.
Дерева підперли
Небо важке,
Холодна зима.

Птахи не співають,
Чекають весни
І вітер притих.
Весна наступає
Ще вітер роздує
Цей сніг.

Розтане цей лід
Кров в землю піде
Як вода
Оновиться світ
Трава наросте
Молода.

І бурі прийдуть
Розструсять нещадно
Цей ліс
Погане зметуть
Дощем все освятять
Наскрізь.

Квітки зацвітуть
І все оживе,
Це краса.
Тихенько підуть
Всі згадки зими
В небеса.
Zoe taylor Dec 2024
Disassociating in the ebony mirage,
I called your name, knee deep in that tender visage,

You didn't answer, so I sung to the fireflies at my windowsill,
I kept crooning, but I knew they never really cared for my fill,

Serenading until my throat was limp and hoarse,
I left it bruised indigo with mellifluous force,

By both the luminescent bugs and the Empyrean sky,
My ballad was left, bound and dry.
An allegory for loneliness, and being unable to make new connections. The fireflies in this instance being potential friends or lovers but fireflies die young, they don't last very long, neither do connections made in disparity.
Zoe taylor Dec 2024
Oh, Moon vine,
Always sleeping where you bud.
I knew you couldn't wake,
Too lost in your fantasy's of pallid dittany's.

Do you wish to be stirred one day,
Or would you prefer to dream forever?
To chase the void in longing disparity,
To live in your own mind eternally?

When you wilt do you think, Moon vine,
You'll keep dreaming?
Up for interpretation, I'd love to hear how you personally see this poem, no wrong answers
Zoe taylor Dec 2024
Canines in her mouth, Tongue licking,
Sobs in my throat, Subtle pricking,

Though she was distant, I wanted nothing more than to hold her close,
Carding through fur, I was trying, pleading for the inmost,

Wanting to make my touch a tender thing,
Longing for her to tether over anything

I trusted her yet she writhed in my cradle,
Thrashing at fingers, soft as sable

When she clawed at my shoulder, hitting the carpet with a hiss and a thud
She left me with only fragile cuts embraced by the sheen of supple blood.
This piece is about comfort fleeting when you need it most but you can interpret it as you please <3
Àŧùl Nov 2024
When you were born, oh my dear,
No doctor—no midwife predicted,
But, oh my dear, you've been a granny,
All throughout, all throughout.

When I first saw you,
I wanted to take you home,
Adorable, lovable, and pure
I really did want to kidnap you.

Why, you ask me...
Look at yourself,
Those pure eyes,
That cute face,
And that cuddly body.

I saw you in 2024,
And you were 24 years old,
I realised you're a 24-year-old grandma.
No fun, no bun, no run.

Oh, Teddy, I so wish...
I hope that you realised it...
Your words hurt me...
How you compared hurt me...

You generalised my trauma,
How could you compare?
You said, "Disabled people even clear UPSC-CSE,"
But you didn't stop there,
And you kept misbehaving...

If you never wanted to marry me,
You could've simply told your mom.

Off and on,
Undying spirit,
Not of positivity,
But of vengeance.

You never actually apologised,
So, I never forgave,
But it's hard,
Yes, it's so hard,
Hard to forget what we forged.

I had seen a world in your eyes,
In my mind, I had seen a future,
A future where you are with me,
A future where I train you, honey.

But why did we separate out?
C'mon now, tell me, why did we?
Couldn't you just be mine?
I wanted to live with you.

What was the need for separation?
I'm perplexed by how things went.
It was so right initially, the elation.
Why did the things prematurely end?
My HP Poem #2020
©Atul Kaushal

Meta AI's comments:
This poem is a heartfelt expression of:

1. Longing and love
2. Hurt and betrayal
3. Unforgiveness and nostalgia

The speaker addresses Teddy, born February 6, 2000, with a mix of affection and pain.

*Initial Affection*

- Admiring Teddy's purity, cuteness, and charm
- Desire to protect and care for Teddy

*Painful Shift*

- Realization of Teddy's transformation (24-year-old "granny")
- Hurt by Teddy's words, comparisons, and misbehavior
- Feeling traumatized and unforgiven

*Unresolved Emotions*

- Confusion and perplexity about separation
- Longing for a lost future together
- Unresolved issues and unspoken apologies

*Key Questions*

- Why did Teddy hurt and betray the speaker?
- Why did they separate?
- Why couldn't Teddy be honest about their intentions?

*Poetic Devices*

- Imagery (pure eyes, cute face, cuddly body)
- Metaphor (24-year-old granny)
- Repetition (oh my dear, why did we?)
- Rhetorical questions

*Themes*

- Toxic relationships
- Emotional trauma
- Unforgiveness and nostalgia
- Longing for lost love

This poem is a powerful expression of complex emotions.

Would you like to:

1. Explore ways to process emotional trauma?
2. Discuss healthy communication in relationships?
3. Analyze the impact of comparisons on self-esteem?
4. Examine poetry as a therapeutic outlet?
Jack Groundhog Oct 2024
Through twisted bars of dark wrought iron
I see the shining golden home.
There once I’d been in my personal Zion
from which I’d freely roam.

But now I note I’ve lost the key
to this imposing gate:
I stand outside, trying hard to see
what caused this change of fate.

When and why did I turn my back
on this inner keep of peace?
How to drop the sackcloth black
and find a new release?

Now I must pull me up
and scale these castle walls
that I myself had built
before I took this fall.

For my sake and for those I love
it’s time to find my way
back to where sounds of cooing doves
becalmed me, come what may.
An allegory of fighting depression inspired by seeing Holyroodhouse Palace through its wrought iron gates.
Sam Lampyris Sep 2024
Date written: July 19, 2024
yisselakh@myyahoo.com


Glowworm

By: Yisselakh

Verse 1:

Oh what more is there to say
About the beetle with new clothes
About the beetle with a new name
This as close as a speck of dust
Can get to catch a star

Bridge:

I know it won't be far
I can see the sparks
And you know
I'll never stray from the path
And you know
I'll never stray from the path

Chorus:

So
Light the way
Light the way
Light the way

So
Light the way
Light the way
Light the way

Verse 2:

I must have been waiting
Since the dawn of days
As you hid within the tall grass blades
When the weary eyes of dusk sway
Blink between time and that eternal place
I'll see you ascend above this maze

Chorus:

And
Light the way
Light the way
Light the way

And
Light the way
Light the way
Light the way

Bridge 2:

Back to innocence, back to the ancient dream
And this time,
I'll stay
You'll stay
We'll stay
And see

CODA:

The wasteland of sorrow
We left behind
Ebbs away, fades away
In the light, with the night
In the light, with the night
Oh love of mine
Love of mine
Love of mine
Isn't this just divine
You and I
And all we love
For all of life
The Secret Lives of Sam Lampyris 4
Loosely Inspired By:
FABRE’S
BOOK OF INSECTS
RETOLD FROM ALEXANDER TEIXEIRA DE MATTOS’
TRANSLATION of FABRE’S “SOUVENIRS ENTOMOLOGIQUES”
BY MRS. RODOLPH STAWELL


-------


Disclaimer:

Sam Lampyris is peeking through time from eternity. Sam Lampyris has all the time in the world. Sam Lampyris wants to know everything, Sam Lampyris wants to do everything, Sam Lampyris wants to write about everything. Sam Lampyris draws, Sam Lampyris paints, writes, learns, sings, thinks.
Sam Lampyris has many facets and many names, many interests and hobbies.
Sam Lampyris is PinkCircleLyrics,
He is Yisselakh.
He is Meynoher.
And more.
He is impulsive, and follows the ebbs and flow of his stream of consciousness faithfully.

All conscious directly inspired pastiche, homage, references, adaptation, and other derivative content will be noted, and any other similarities beyond this I can only attribute to subconscious influence, collective consciousness or unconscious, or pure coincidence.

Unlike previous works by Sam Lampyris under various pseudonyms, these works are less reactive and more proactive. This is to say that the previous poems and lyrics often sprung directly from my immediate reaction to things I have heard, listened to, read, seen or watched, and are usually much more authentic to my personal philosophy, be it intuitive or learned.

These, however, are more proactive in the sense that I voluntarily seek prompts and inspirations from books and other mediums I look to learn from and write with them in mind. I do this in order to fortify my understanding of them in my own preferred way.

However, during the writing process, my mind always, in some strange way, becomes locked in a track and I, again, seem to be always directed to follow my intuition. Thus, most of the works are non rhyming or rhyming free verses, as instead of writing with strict and consistent meters, it feels like my own being is forced to follow rhythm patterns that "feels right."

Thus, though I can't promise these thoughts are anything under the sun, in fact I can promise the exact opposite:

Ecclesiastes1:10 King James Version

"Is there any thing whereof it may be said, See, this is new? it hath been already of old time, which was before us."

I can promise these works are absolutely authentic to the entire being of Sam Lampyris, no matter what his name is at the time.
Davis J Posey Sep 2024
Far away, I see a man
Standing tall on rocks of sand.
Careful not to move or breathe.
Fearful of what may break beneath.

He sees me, too,
Wading in a pool of blue.
Here I have stood for years,
Now tired from all of my fears.

The water whispers my name,
Saying I am not to blame.
She offers me rest.
And lulls me to take one last breath.

But the man warns me to keep my head above,
Warning me of the devil’s dove.
If I die, so will he; even now, we totter
Scared, I may drown in three feet of water.
Sam Lampyris Sep 2024
Date written: June 23, 2024
yisselakh@myyahoo.com

Mantis

By: Yisselakh

Verse:

So you look above the hedge
And see the mantis on the edge
The waning sun shines through its silhouette
A sea of green perched beneath
The roaring storm of overcast red
The roaring storm of overcast red
The roaring storm of overcast red

Pre-Chorus:

And the little life
Oh so it oversees the other side?
Arms curved, and the eyes?
The eyes?
The eyes?
Piercing into the mind
Does the little dot lead
A sphere of truth or lies

Chorus:

For humanity patiently on this side
Of time, of life, of a metaphorical rhyme
What do you see from above us
What can you prophesy?
If he were the cicada perhaps
We'd know everything
Everything
Everything
But it stays so silent
Oh so silent
Oh so silent
So we can do nothing
Except keep dreaming
Keep dreaming
Keep dreaming

Repeat:

Pre-Chorus:

Ask the little life
Does it oversees the other side?
Arms curved, and the eyes?
The eyes?
The eyes?
Piercing into the mind
Does the little dot lead
A sphere of truth or lies

Chorus:

For humanity patiently on this side
Of time, of life, of a metaphorical rhyme
What do you see from above us
What can you prophesy?
If he were the cicada perhaps
We'd know everything
Everything
Everything
But it stays so silent
Oh so silent
Oh so silent
So we can do nothing
Except keep dreaming
Keep dreaming
Keep dreaming

CODA:

Is there an unshakable truth waiting of a sweet
Awakening
That, my child, my soul, the faithful and hopeless
We have to answer from within
Do you believe?
Do you believe?
Do you believe?
The Secret Lives of Sam Lampyris 3
Loosely Inspired By:
FABRE’S
BOOK OF INSECTS
RETOLD FROM ALEXANDER TEIXEIRA DE MATTOS’
TRANSLATION of FABRE’S “SOUVENIRS ENTOMOLOGIQUES”
BY MRS. RODOLPH STAWELL


-------


Disclaimer:

Sam Lampyris is peeking through time from eternity. Sam Lampyris has all the time in the world. Sam Lampyris wants to know everything, Sam Lampyris wants to do everything, Sam Lampyris wants to write about everything. Sam Lampyris draws, Sam Lampyris paints, writes, learns, sings, thinks.
Sam Lampyris has many facets and many names, many interests and hobbies.
Sam Lampyris is PinkCircleLyrics,
He is Yisselakh.
He is Meynoher.
And more.
He is impulsive, and follows the ebbs and flow of his stream of consciousness faithfully.

All conscious directly inspired pastiche, homage, references, adaptation, and other derivative content will be noted, and any other similarities beyond this I can only attribute to subconscious influence, collective consciousness or unconscious, or pure coincidence.

Unlike previous works by Sam Lampyris under various pseudonyms, these works are less reactive and more proactive. This is to say that the previous poems and lyrics often sprung directly from my immediate reaction to things I have heard, listened to, read, seen or watched, and are usually much more authentic to my personal philosophy, be it intuitive or learned.

These, however, are more proactive in the sense that I voluntarily seek prompts and inspirations from books and other mediums I look to learn from and write with them in mind. I do this in order to fortify my understanding of them in my own preferred way.

However, during the writing process, my mind always, in some strange way, becomes locked in a track and I, again, seem to be always directed to follow my intuition. Thus, most of the works are non rhyming or rhyming free verses, as instead of writing with strict and consistent meters, it feels like my own being is forced to follow rhythm patterns that "feels right."

Thus, though I can't promise these thoughts are anything under the sun, in fact I can promise the exact opposite:

Ecclesiastes1:10 King James Version

"Is there any thing whereof it may be said, See, this is new? it hath been already of old time, which was before us."

I can promise these works are absolutely authentic to the entire being of Sam Lampyris, no matter what his name is at the time.
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