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Zywa Sep 2021
In a green landscape,

cars are flashing around me ---


It's aircon-silent.
Van der Valk-hotel Tilburg

Collection "Between where"
Zywa Sep 2021
The old storehouses

swing towards my paddle stroke:


I'm cruising through time.
Amsterdam--- Collection "New Ago"
I don't feel fine in this place...
I feel confined to this space...
I don't feel fine in this place...

My thoughts in my mind's been displaced
I can't describe how it tastes
or all of the time that it takes
to get myself out of this race
I don't feel fine in this place...

She said that I'll be okay, but...
I listen to the words she don't say, cause...
that's where all her true feelings stay
I'm in an emotional state
But not cause it's been a bad day, nah...
keeping my balance to stay, calm...
One wrong step and you blast like a ******
All the commotion makes me wanna take off...

Would it be better to go or to stay?
I don't feel fine in this place...
Some nights are wild,
and you must be calm.
Indonesia, 21st August 2021
Arif Aditya Abyan Nugroho
Ellen F D Aug 2021
Echos through the city
Filling it with a roar

Crashing through walls
Rumbling through windows
Cutting through the air

It calms me
Soothes me
Grounds me

It’s awesome power
That’s paradoxically silent
Stands still and tall

It’s subtle vibration
That’s gently rough
Flows far and wide

It’s dark melody  
That’s unforgettably ominous
Sings through the atmosphere

It’s charged.

Quick.

Merely a bubble of excited particles

Bouncing off one another in glee

Yet…

It’s slow…
Climactic…

…It’s beautiful.

From such chaos comes so much beauty, so much feeling, so much sound

From such chaos, comes so much life

Here I rest

And here I’m calm

Here, I am safe
Had some wicked thunder storms round my parts lately
Zywa Sep 2019
The sun hangs on
just above the water
With romantic feelings
the old people look

at us on the rocks
where we read to each other
They don't see the ants
only our young bodies
and in mind, they add the lizards

A foghorn sounds at sea
but there is nothing to see
until suddenly around us
the bathers on the concrete blocks
become who they seemed to be:

ghosts cherishing themselves
in the warmth on their skin
They turn around and wait
sleeping for the sun
Umag, Croatia, September 1988

Collection “WoofWoof”
Zywa Sep 2019
The fortress: I roll out my mat
in the silence of sleeping cicadas
The wind is warm, time crawls
with the sun to Naples

It's all in my head
high above the noise of life

of crowded streets and shops
where the money never rolls far
looks are leery, kisses are fleeting
and hands are groping

It is not right
I start a storm
sweep chairs from the terraces
slam doors and blow dust

like night through the city
Guy-wires and bars rattle
a dog whines and a cat
glares at the perch

in the water of the harbour, wild
from my rebellious thoughts
that lie down after all
between the snails on my mat
The Fortétza (fortress) in Rétimno (Rethymno), April-May 1989

Collection “Blown sand”
Rama Krsna Jul 2021
on this sensual night
of the clementine moon...
to write or not to write
her dilemma

this tender heart
carrying burgeoning weight
and heavy pangs from burdens past,
needs to be set a-free
into the flying world of poetry....

remember
where that golden key resides,
deep within
that inverted pink lotus,
not gray matter
atop
as often intellectualized

let go
that need to be in control
and take a deep dive
into the ocean of uncertainty,
only then will this white dove
soar
to the heavens of ecstasy

thus the sage has spoken....

© 2021
dedicated To the melancholy ones
Rama Krsna Jul 2021
the inexplicable lightness
of pure being
comes from subtly discerning
that the moony mind
is your nemesis....

silencing it
the stairway to heaven


© 2021
Zywa Jul 2021
Space, ease, myself
breathing, feeling the stitches
under my ribs and the poison
in my body, in my head

Not thinking about that
Every day a friend
who cares
about her own interests

No curiosity, patronising
and consolation, only
an embrace and
being spoiled a bit

Awake, not dreaming
in my sleep, walking around
in the colours of the world
and eating roasted peanuts

in the park, the park
always a park
a forest, a **** or a beach
and otherwise my balcony
For Maria Godschalk #119

Collection "On living on"
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