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I stand
at the water's edge
in deep thought
Recognizing
the disappearance
of what was once
solid ground

Voices
that I thought
were my own
echo their warnings

The undertow tugs
at my ambivalence,
waves of thoughts
not to stray
from what I know

How little confidence
this voice has in me
How powerfully
It has influenced
my life

But no more!
Groundlessness
will set me free
Abigail Rose Jan 5
So, I’m drawn to your religion
On the basis of aesthetic.
I want to feel the way that
Golden, plump, laughing Buddha
Feels without having to read the stories.
I want to embrace the wu wei--
Whatever that means--
I want to sit criss-crossed
In the long, naples yellow grass
With no ticks.
In the orange afternoon sun
With no nighttime.  
I want to worship at a smoky altar
And feel the arms of
My Goddess wrap around me.
Hear her voice: slow, smooth, but stern.
“Thank you,” for the sacrifice.
I want to be divine--God
Gaze down from the Heavens
And take pride in my light
Like I am your son;
I want to be free of the burden
Of my humanness,
Lifted,
Cleansed,
Purified.
I wish to be free of desire
And so it is the desire which ails me.
And I curse nothing more
Than I curse my hungry heart
And my faulty mind.
Lifted,
Cleansed,
Purified.
Alice Lovey Jun 2018
It's rained every day this week.
I don't have what I did the last,
I'm not the same.
I think this may be another world;
It enveloped me, incautiously.
I did not see it coming--
Cool arms blurred my view and embraced me.
I opened.
My reflections are silvery, but I am not.
Everything is gray.
I don't hate it.
The sky's breath is cold
And I feel it soak through my clothes.
I set my umbrella down today and
I stood there. I closed my eyes.
I don't know who I am in this place,
But I feel okay.
I've lost, am lost, but little has changed.
I have not washed away.
Like storm clouds, I hold onto what's gathered around me.
I want to feel this ambivalent nothingness.

The rain brings new beginnings,
But now I must play the storyteller.
Please read along with this piece:
https://open.spotify.com/track/1kZvOyo7g6k01Au6DuXY4Y
Sadaf Fatima Jun 2018
While soaking the February sun in my cold bones, I think of possibilities.

I hear the sparrows chirp on my house's rooftop, but I also worry about the ominous fumes rising from a factory nearby.

This is also an analogy for my life.

I question if my imagination runs a bit too wild or if I trust my ideas too less?

I am unable to feel completely happy, but I cannot sink into sadness just yet.

I wonder what to choose, hope or despair?  

I am hanging somewhere in the middle,
in the web of possibilities, both good and bad.

I am searching for answers to questions that nobody can answer for me.
Dean Russell Jun 2018
Look into this cauldron.
Tell me - what do you see?
I can see hibiscus, salt, vanilla pods and bees.
Let me see what you can see
In this navy cauldron of granite, balancing
On the remains of a dead tree.
It boils and it kills and it nurtures
And it can even grow flowers
From beginning until the end; if you
Do not disturb its condition.

I can tell you most things can survive anywhere
If you let it adapt and provide tender patience.
Say yes, look at your gains and give spirit.
Death may be stalking but you tread
Thoughtfully along and give praise
To beauty and every wonder residing in your only mind.
Let freedom flutter and kiss velvet
Lips - delight; let silence surrender
Us in a nation of two where one truth exists:
worth and you.

Look in this cauldron
And tell me what you see!
Because while I see a cauldron of exceptional wonder,

                          

                                 you might see a decay
KM Hanslik May 2018
Paint me in new colors. I am tired
of my usual half-attempts
at dragging this out. Why
do my hands feel so heavy?
Lead numbness dragging
hours into days
I try to scraps off my old moldings but I'm
stuck in this feedback loop of
what will break me slowly because
I want to be here, but
at the same time I don't.
Ambivalence
kills. It seeds itself
under my skin and I can't
tear it out.

Ambivalence
will be the death of me.
Cupcakeowlz Mar 2018
You twirl me on your finger,
a breath of swirling hair on his palm,
and I take a deep breath; I yell.

A whisper on the late winter day,
bringing bittersweet promises of the spring.

I can feel it in my veins and your touch, your call, your voice.

How one can confuse and dwell and yield false hope,
to one who has decided to crush all of it?

Oh! such a poor falling child,
when I smell the blossoms of hope
and yet a tang of desperation that seeps through my blood.

A drop of orange on my tongue,
slipping a radiation of sweetness down my tongue,
and yet it undergoes as raw to me.

You light me on fire,
and I light you too.

And I wait to see how you react.
© This was for an emotion contest using the five senses (sight, smell, hearing, touch, taste). The emotions stated were confuse, hope, desperation. The ones not stated but implied were passion, breathlessness. Contradicting emotions: bittersweet. The whole poem was based on ambivalence or having contradicting feelings. @Cupcakeowlz: AllPoetry/HelloPoetry, Google+, Wattpad, Youtube @Cupcake321543: scratch.mit.edu Please, also, visit my AllPoetry account, as I use it more often than this account, and view my poetry. Thank you!
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