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Simon Apr 2021
Everyone is just another flower at heart....
After all, being another flower from everyone else, gives you the most pleasurable specifics in the right place...when you only feel tolerated enough to advance your very cause into the next adventure (that is truly within the smell of the pollen that perfumes the petal like a fragrance that isn't tolerated in it's own self properly). Even when truthfully...it's all about the smell that directs that very such advancing cause forward into the next district of measurable causes (when and only when), you have become finally advanced enough to truly (now and forevermore) surpass the very self (that you once were, only just a few seconds ago, depending on a flowers perception of time itself). Then forecasts it's own weighing measures into even (the next distract of measurable causes) that combines together an even more stronger fragrance that balances correctly, (when and only when) things truly become one with one another.
In any case, those very pleasurable specifics become the very documentary of a flower becoming just... "Another flower."
But is such terms or pleasant metaphors enough for this very emotional written appeals the very abstract piece one is even wanting to read, or even take the time to truly focus on (by concentration, alone)?
Flowers at the end of the day, don't mask their own intentions (when their own petals start falling, because of aging regrets).
It's more of the very already (possible) defining examples that don't let the petals (with emotional appealing problems) that just don't know how to show themselves, properly. After all, when petals fall from a flower, it's probably because they have yet to show their own hidden beauty.
In essence, when you shed the petals, it isn't of the very cause for when seasons change and flowers go to sleep, or end their own lifecycle with the changing of seasonal tides, or even potentially becoming plucked clean by an enforcer at large who see's flowers ugly (because they see themselves as nothing but useless opportunities at large)!
Regardless, when another flower does this, it's because the very first impression comes off as the obvious spectacle of someone hiding their own shame away, for the oncoming tide of self-insecurities that don't give them the very such "open-minded" source needed for the very availability of shooting forward and simply coming out for being who you want too be....
And that is not of just being another flower... But more the result of a flower changing her own ins and outs for being the very tolerant of their own attitude and behavioral willpower at large.
Whatever happens, nothing can prepare (for what just another flower truly is), is for them to be in the very safe regarding hands of their own potentially past self-ridiculing of oneself.
When and only when, those very petals that you have spread your own fragrance (in the form of beautiful pheromones).
Those very same petals will begin again.
Reattaching itself, accordingly.
And then reversing time (as if looking back at a film roll of many sequence of events) that may help you into reversing your own perspective (with time, that is).
In the end, what you really thought was a big deal (once...) Became the very maneuvering ability where you are now ready to begin re-growing those fragile, (yet strong willed) petals at heart.
This is entirely dedicated to someone who (while only talking with them for only for a few moments in time...) They have in a very mutual respect I now have for them and for their own work, (as by how they have completely reflecting on mine in such a positive sense). I want to truly dedicate them with this poem. :)
Everyone who views this, check out "Just Another Flower's" channel.
You won't be disappointed. Thanks!
I S A A C Apr 2021
walking on air in my bedroom
so far from the pain and residue
scrubbed and rubbed myself down to the bone
retired; regrouped and ascent the throne
rose glasses on with a visionary mind
pearly whites to hide the pain inside
solid front for a processing machine underneath my skin
estimated time of recovery in two months
just gotta embrace the mourning until the morning
wipe the tears and conquer my fears
rest and repeat, don't forget to eat, rest and repeat
So hot I burnt out
Black Petal Mar 2021
Stay, luminous moon.
Orbit my heart forever.
Shine through its deep cracks.
DeVaughn Station Jan 2021
I’m not remotely close to having control.
My fingers slip, but I don’t want to go down that hole.
Temptation at the tip of my nose
with her eyes opening up my soul.
My resolve is low, but I’m trying to make it last.
Sometimes in this race, I feel like I’m coming in last,
even though I stick to the goal, and I’m skating so fast.
I just wish to feel whole, but that’s evading my grasp.
It would be so easy to give up,
to lift up, the regret and hating the past.
Holding on is so hard, is this what
life leads to? The anger and grief bleeds through
my words, hurting him, her, and me too.
Is it sad to plead to the unknown when euphoria actually sees you
at your lowest? When you’re unheroic
and have never been stoic? When you’re unnoticed
yet devoted but you can’t keep focus
because you’ve lost all motive?
It’s sobering to deny the malice
but what if you’re too weak to avoid the chalice?
Will falling into euphoria break the chains on my talus?
Does happiness come from self-discipline and earnest effort, or does it stem from the abandonment of concern in the pursuit of euphoria?
stillhuman Mar 2021
There is something in the air
no more ice nor vampire lairs
The sun rules over night
and brings forth all things bright
And the flowers greet him with glee
all shining and rising among the ****
As the maiden smiles to her tummy
her child smiles back in the shape of a bunny
It's the breath of spring,
balance and growth with it brings
So let us blossom my dear
make our intention and power clear
Merry Ostara to all who celebrate. To those who don't, I wish you to blossom this spring
We can go on, take a break or stop
Many possibilities
Harmony on top

We are what we want
Threading on a blurry line
Friends to lovers and reverse
We are flexible, we are fine
His5Her is a series of poems with different points of view of fictional people.
Johnson Oyeniran Mar 2021
-Laws Of Balance

Look all around, balance is present everywhere,

Everything in our world has an opposite pair!!
clmathew Feb 2021
Precarious Balance (in 3 parts)
started December 3rd, 2020

(1)
My balance
has never been great
others walk paths
and look at the world around them

I
look at my feet
watching for things
that might trip me

(2)
I walk along a tightrope
strung a few inches over the earth
my balance precarious

not realizing
I could step off at any time
onto the stable earth.

(3)
Life is a precarious balancing
of the joy and the pain
singing-tears
holding onto each other
shatter-whole
the impossible duality
agony-bliss
found only in juxtaposition
love-destruction
we try to balance
not-enough-too-much
somewhere within
everything-nothing
It was about a year ago that I started writing again. That first fragment of an unformed poem, has taken on so many forms over the last year. Those opposites in the third part above. The resulting poem never seems quite right. So I put it aside and try again later. Skirting around what I know I want to say. Trying to make it seem pleasing and palatable, when it just isn't. That first poem will make it online eventually, but not today.
JKirin Feb 2021
One must know drizzles and days of gloom
to see the beauty—a rose in bloom.
Zywa Feb 2021
I held on to my

morning paper, on the street –


when slipping on ice.
“Hymn” (1960, Jack Kerouac)

Collection "Actively Passive"
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