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I tried to be mindful

but my mind is too full
the overthinker's first and final words
Neelam Jun 16
Attuned to voice rising 
from the living heart,
Heart, the vast expanse of 
sublime realm,

The silent abode,
Core of streamlined frequencies,
Vibrating as One,
reverberating, fluctuations 
of surrealism,

Intersection on the paths,
deviation on the filtered 
perception, 
A possibility for stillness 
to reign in the murky clouds 
of uncertainties. 

The rightful contemplation
leads to the depths 
of the Heart.
Inspired by a track titled "Expanse" composed by Steven Gutheinz.
pcb Jun 15
While everything dissolves in a blur
and everyone else is in a hurry,
between the fast and slow footsteps on the street,
yours just feel like water—
flowing across minds in one step,
through sands of time in two.


Maybe they will find you cold and bland,
but have they ever felt cold water on a sizzling day?



And maybe,
maybe I've swum in calmer waters,
walked at a slower pace with many.

But no one has ever swung my hand along a busy pedestrian street,
or swayed me as gently
as you did.
PiLomus May 30
A downpour doesn't feel like rain,
Unless it make you run,
To relive that redolent fun,
Of racing against the next drop,
But still wishing it to not stop.
Today after a long time, rain made me run And euphoric mind and soul, pick up the pen.
Zywa May 14
Shorn sheep warm themselves in the sun
shade under the crooked trees

a bathtub tilted to a trough
the **** ditch a ribbon of red algae

peeled signs on the border
water and land

the rippling nibbling on the *****
grass beds along the crest-path

I walk along the wide water
no screeching tyres here

sometimes on Sou'wester days
the seagulls and the wind

laundry flapping at the back
white as the sails in the lurid light

the sea level silvered by the sky
the horizon bent between the banks

the water arches over the green valley
swaying and waving seaweed nymphs

charm beneath the waves
treasures seemingly for the taking

golden yellow stones in the Shire Sea
For Rob Zwiers

Collection “WoofWoof”
Close your eyes,
Breathe calmly,
For some time

You've looked down to yourself for so long that you forgot what it was to be alive.
Break the walls that you've built around you to protect from the agony, the pain, the apathy, that trapped you into them.
Our lives are not supposed to be talked about in a piece of poetry. They are too complex, unique. Our reality cannot be determined simply by words, rhythm, rhymes, music.
Chemical signals. Physical laws. Duties, Emotions. Joy. Wellbeing. Despair. Depression.
The possibility of crying out loud all of the sadness that had built in for ages, and to absorb all of the splendor of a hug with someone you love in a minute that lasts forever. Enjoy your journey. Do not waste these precious moments, even the darker ones. We are to be living wonderful and sorrowful times, but life is not about wonderfully sorrowful times.
To wish you were someone else would ruin and waste your precious uniqueness. It is all about the journey, just live it all, experience all of the thousand sides in a diamond where life beatifully scattered its light. Experience the shadows, thrive in the dawn. Just do not forbid yourself from living. Do not anticipate.  Be wonderful and find your way.

Long breathe.
Embrace yourself,
and open your eyes.
Sometimes things don't go your way. It's part of the game. Has to be, would be a pity if it weren't. I hope this is appreciated by the few readers.
Lila Apr 26
the sun is still sleeping
but I am not
I lie awake
having just returned
from the land of dreams

my skin is cool
for now, my monsters are silent
maybe
just maybe
today will be a good day
~ I think I need to learn poetry forms and rhyme. anyways, random poem. today might just turn out okay :) ~
Zywa Apr 23
Siesta, angelic music
strews holy words in my ears

draws them on the front and the back
in relief in the auricles. Am I dozing

or has someone awakened
the flowers? I lie so comfortably

in the sun, safe in the green
field, my face blushes blue

from the royal chalice between my legs
the flowers just laugh and sing

The work is done, yes I doze
of holiness
“Okna podle Marca Chagalla” (“Windows after Marc Chagall”, 1976, Petr Eben), with:
Issachar, the green window (1961, Marc Chagall)

Collection "org anp ark" #70
Paul NP Apr 16
She

Emotion is I Am.
I am not Emotion.
Space of Objects.
I point without force.
Place of mind for your
Own Endeavor.
I Am the I Am in Motion.
Id be interested to see if you could decipher this one.
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