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Have found immediacy, empty
touching mantra enchanting
positioning paleo lingual

pings asking attention, empty
mind state, concentrating
mental energy outward,
externalities inward,

who first?

Browning - visiting
ancient Etruscan

Faesulae, conquered
by Romans.

In Roman antiquity,
the seat, we see
of a famous school
of augurs and, every year,
twelve young men
were sent there
from Rome
to study the art of divination.

"Who listened
to the Legate's talk last week,
"And just as much they used
    to say
       in France...
"At any rate 'tis easy, all of it!"

How familiar are the settings,
put forth in dramatic monologue,
easy
feels familiar,
least among giants, seeing,
believing all available science,
in the time
of Raphael 'n'em,
who can yet recall
“Andrea del Sarto” though,
Browning gave him space,
to firm aspirations,
to make good,
be good producers,
selling life's sizzle,

most all sales trainers
   use one line, alone…
    common extension

To succeed one must believe,
verbally grasping will to sell
b to b marketing,
on the Mammonic
entrancement, please try
to grasp the nature of worth…
to a poet in the space we use,
for free
for your examined life… you knew

“Andrea del Sarto”
by Robert Browning
rates one precept,
out
of the anxious mind percept
whence comes
this common
inspiration, say this mountain moves. Say it in the name of Jesu
- on Earth, as it is, just so
Amen, Browning was a master…
"Speak as they please, what does the mountain care?
"Ah, but a man's reach should exceed his grasp,
Or what's a heaven for? "
My AI knew, so I know, too, for the use of ask any search engine, teams of seeking spiders all move mountains of information to inform us for the price
we pay in attention. Right now, Tom Campbell's name came to mind.
Nahin Nov 2024
The boy I met on the river bank
Told me a truth
Unasked, unruth -

How do you smile
without a fake?
As if,
To cast a fire
And burn on a lake.
Some confrontations of unnoticed truths.
Kacie Nov 2024
No evil shall enter in sacred space
Powers move, one thread in chase

Hands of creation, electric flow
Held captivated with eternal glow

Luminescent band, another dimension

Binding words weave within
Secrets of past woven in pen

In the shadows, in the light,
Forever hidden in plain sight


RepeatedNap
QueenOfTheAshes Oct 2024
I'd rather write a million poems
Than appease to what's unjust;
I'd rather die a million times,
Than in you to put my trust.

And if in the end I really must,
I reckon there's spells to cast;
And for those I'll be ****** for,
But at least I stayed,
True to my core.
Payton Hayes Feb 2021
I used to think that
there were these little bones in my heart, and
when they got broken, the doctors would put
a bright pink cast on my heart.

But it doesn't work like that.

You can't put a cast on your heart, and even if you could,
there isn't a cast big enough to hold every single piece
my heart has broken into.
There isn't a glue strong enough to put it back
together, and keep you from breaking
it, yet again.

I had an elderly lady look on me and say "one day you're going to be a little heart-breaker to a bunch of boys."
And I'm sure I was before now.

So next time you adorn yourself with such a label as,
"Heart-breaker," perhaps you should imagine
what it would be like when someone breaks your heart.

The most exquisite truth of all is this:
I may be broken.
I am not
d e s t r o y e d.
This poem was written in 2016.
Shannon Soeganda Dec 2020
You are nothing but a pretty face---

and for all the words birthed from your soft,
pouty,
supple,
unkissed sunkissed lips---

or the ones written down with your tiny,
\\ slanted //
handwriting;

they are nothing but empty,

meaningless blatherskites.
Their kisses remind me of all these empty amens.
Sure this one won't be any different.
Michael Luciano Nov 2020
I watched as she was cast out of a bolt from the blue.
A smile on her lips so beautifully askew.
As her feet touched the earth she danced into the light.
Like a drifter in the shadows dashing through the night.
Her eyes can make you smile hips will make you shake.
She is dawn's wishful goddess brought to earth for heaven's sake.
Naked as Godiva through my mind she cut like pain.
Tearing into the warm summer night bold with brazen fangs.
Caught and cast a sail like a ship upon the sea.
She swam in the moonlight sweetly.  while the night did eagerly recede.
Her beauty warms the sunshine filtered through the leaves of trees.
That shade her eyes that have seen infinite eternity.
mayur Oct 2020
though he looked calm
he was worried all the way
as his sons carried him on their broad shoulders.

the dead brahmin, finally smiled
as he was laid
on the funeral pyre
made of finest sandalwood 
from the forest around.

that was his last wish to his sons,
you must use chandan and nothing else.
don’t give me to some low-cast corkwood
even before sum of my deeds is calculated,
i know, on the pyre, it will burn me, to the hell.
cast has created division in indian society for thousands of years, it so deeply rooted that even today it still shows scars of past and deeds of presents
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