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mark soltero Jul 2021
i live here on the bedrock
tunnel vision
it’s difficult to see

sometimes it’s just grey
there used to be easier ways to get out
before i became baggage
left behind, raided and rotting

a shell of what used to be there
annh Nov 2020

what you have;
the sticks and the stones,
the brittle bones and the names
you call yourself out of disappointment,
frustration and contempt. СНЕГІЅН it all; the
rituals and the struggles, the battles lost and won.
Eventually, those positions held so uncompromisingly
will be surrendered, by choice or by chance, to the
nothingness from whence
they came.
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you are at one or at odds with yourself, whether you like it or not, they are a part of what has made you who you are - informed your choices, shaped your present. Return them to the bedrock of the earth, the ether, or the ocean, if you will; but do so with grace, fond remembrance, and a care for that which lives on within you.

‘I have had to experience so much stupidity, so many vices, so much error, so much nausea, disillusionment and sorrow, just in order to become
a child again and begin anew.’
- Hermann Hesse, Siddhartha
annh Aug 2020
I rest my head on her shoulder,
The shoulder of the earth;
Cradled in her warmth,
Caught by shifting currents,
Cleansed by ****-frost’s pervasive bite;
Tutored by seasons’ changes.

Musing to myself that she has faith in me,
That I have something to offer her;
Negotiating with my intellect,
Letting my imagination run wild,
Enough to entertain the idea that
I am capable of something more than this.

‘In the end, the bedrock of existence is not made up of the family, or work, or what others say or think of you, but of moments like this when you are exalted by a transcendent power that is more serene than love. Life dispenses them parsimoniously; our feeble hearts could not stand more.’
- Nicolas Bouvier, The Way of the World
Glenn Currier Feb 2020
the shifting layers of gravel and soil,
the thin crust of busyness
and distractions
are the hours of merging and melting
from our friction and romance,
in other words
the love and trust
that is our bedrock.
Joe Wilson May 2014

Laugh  with you openly happy
Often about things of no note
Vital times that we embrace together
Every ounce of my love I devote.

You are my bedrock, you are my muse
Oft times alone I am of no use
Until once more you’re here as you choose.

©Joe Wilson – Love 2014

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