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Leifa May 31
Our lids hold the g r a v i t y  
        Of sleepless generations

Big man, I warn you-
Do not blink.
labyrinth May 29
Letting human souls
Born to be noble
Rot out with ugly goals
Trouble of all troubles
Melody Mann May 7
Her hands are delicate from the burden she carries,
The lines seen on her palms trace journeys her ancestors traveled for her to be here today,
Her fingers grasp the pen firmly as she strokes a new narrative into existence,
Rings sparkle in the light with each motion as a symbol of sovereignty and culture,
Mehndi celebrates her heritage in a bashful pursuit for representation,
A female successor in the works,
Breaking the norms and defining her identity one step at a time.
Don't call me a volcano,
I don't want to be a volcano!
Sometimes active,
Mostly dormant,
A stiff peak with indigestion,
Birthing igneous isles
across the seas,
Starving for eruption,

Call me a hurricane,
Say it with a tremble.
Never expect me,
Dread my return.
Never dormant,
Always hungry,
Carving my path,
Landmass by landmass,
Conquering, Striding,

Get your facts straight
Before you name me a disaster.
Man Apr 9
his teeth were rotted out
but he left no time
for regret
for there is no regress
from the state he finds himself in

how it had come to this
boy, he didn't know
fervent drug use
frequenting their misuse
forget it
for tomorrow, is another day for worry

humbled by his lack of knowledge
beset, on knowing's acquisition
further than the last day
faster too
father lost himself to his ambition
Zywa Mar 24
Getting up at six o'clock for swimming
lessons in the mountain lake, in autumn
with fog and rain, then breakfast

clocking my time on arrival at school
and wanting to win the run
around the sports fields, as if

it brings me any points
for what I am worth
relying on the lesson

that I do it all for myself
because the great ideals
of the adults are too good

for their worries
I hear their words and their deeds
make me think

so I knew it already
1964 – Beek (Berg en Dal) and Nijmegen

Collection "Life line"
Joy in your life
Does not follow wealth
Or fame
Or even ambition

Joy in your life
Follows purpose and meaning
Friends and family
Incremental progress

When you feel disconnected
From Joy in your life
Reach out to another
And connect again

Connect with laughter
Connect with play
Connect with gratitude
Connect with focus
Connect with service
Connect with forgiveness

These will light the fire
For joy in your life
And joy will remain
Your constant companion
This is Prosperity Poem 114 at and you can see it displayed on a beautiful background (copy and paste the link below).
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my Mom has a website, and I help her keep it up and create and link new content.  I was working on her "Joy" page and pondering about what creates joy in our life.

Check it out and see if you agree.  This poem is actually prose, since it's one of the very few that doesn't rhyme at all.  

For me, the things that bring joy into my life are so simple, and you can choose to act today to bring more joy into your life.  Amazingly, these choices and actions will also bring joy to others.  So share this poem freely and let's impact the world for good!

Got different encounter of this life. Different beliefs, different perspectives with diverse mindset towards it. But not anyone not a single soul even the sages of earth known enough. Man perish for fortune birds yet search for feeds. Life is really encounter. If you haven't feel you hadn't have life  lived to the fullest. He rode an horse wisdom back chasing, racing, a dream to caught. Ambition high way focus juncture off determination, goal lane destination.
Adam Kinsley Feb 20
I stumble recklessly through my timid thoughts
This bridled resentment destroys my conscience
Despite my intention, I ceded my morals
The morale of my virtue plummets by the second

Dissension among my synapses seethes to the surface
I am a house divided against itself
Regret lovingly entices my bloodthirsty demons
She shrugs surely with shivering shame

With my vision impaired, my dreams are soundly asleep
Kept calmly in this cavern of my cantankerous crimes
My respite is met with malice and spite
I cannot escape what these two hands have done

My distress is hidden in silence
I had already dashed my untarnished ambition
I awaken in sweat and confusion
As an empty bottle mocks me with cruel contempt...
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