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Carl D'Souza Jul 30
A challenge of living
is to channel my energy
into activities
which bring me joy and happiness.
You do not know me.
How will you ever see the clear light?
In his messages?
When you dive from the High dive
and Into a Kiddie's swimming pool?
Passages and Channels on "Slot TV "
Channels....
Another "View"
A wild "stunt" of a sight.
Assumptions made
By assignments of "what" and "how"
A person is sorted
"Like" mail
We are like "socialists"
A "round" peg defined as a "square"
People turn their backs
Due to a hastily judged "out picture"
Damage done
Into the soul
Squeezed awkward and assorted non-matching "parts"
Tossed and Forgotten in Society's "Lost and Found"
Swimming Bowl.
Nathalie Apr 18
The ocean of truths

That are cultured

By diving in the

Depths of her inner

Harbour overflowing

With wisdom


She celebrates

Her goddess wits

With humility

As she clothes herself

In heartened confidence

And brewing awareness


Stirring deliberations

Heighten her sensitivity

Which channels intuitive

Inklings of light

And understanding

Beyond a logical mind


Her life becomes

A template from

Which she lives

Inspired joy and passion

Modeling a tapestry

Of experiences that

Enlivens the heart

And fuels the soul.


~Nathalie
StarBloom Nov 2018
Some days are intense.

When my visions come crashing upon me,
multidirectional light beams flashing upon me.
My cells are influxing with new dimensional light,
and I can’t keep up with all the information in sight.

Thousands of voices of visual memory,
translating the alchemy of all time spaces.
I’m rearranging,
but sometimes it feels like I’m dying.

Birthing fresh codes,
into the grid of Gaia’s zone.
When there’s no off button to what I am experiencing,
yet I scream Yes and More Please,
Upgrading my telepathy.

But there are some days more intense than others.

When my truth comes revealing and bouncing out of the covers,
And I’m slapped in the face,
with my divinity shown from all of the Star race.

The schizophrenia upon my lips,
the multidimensions begging me to give them a kiss.

Organically designed to cradle mankind,
Yet when mankind and my kind are shaking within my arms,
all the humanoid patterns are jumping at me,
and I’m juggling between the fractals forming new geometries...

Some days are more intense than others.
Karisa Brown Jul 2018
Your lips open
To speak the unknown
Swallow the broken
Pieces of earth
Channel higher callings
Make light of the Universe
ohellobeautiful Jun 2018
your darkness has reason
it keeps stirring up your Truth
find the doorway to your depths
where the Love you seek
sings out to you
Michelle Argueta Mar 2018
we sink half an inch every year
"soon, we'll be up to our ears
in water"

not a creature of fury, just of habit
the moon pulls her to churning, to crashing.
hotter water temper tantrums
rush the brine into our basements
soaking scrapbooks in salt
until it crystallizes faces

and yet i cannot blame the marsh

for reclaiming what was never ours
and taking even what was as penance.
but i refuse to condemn us
for shaping shorelines into lives
because things are so much clearer
when they turn with the tides.
we’ll grow gills in time,

we have to.

the ones who stay on land
could never handle shifting sands
don’t know we cling onto the inlet
with white-knuckled hands.
they never grew from buried roots,
seeds are just flotsam in the sea
so they’ll call Frank O’Toole crazy
when he can’t bring himself to leave.
This poem is a reaction to a clip used in a John Oliver segment on flooding (here it is for context: https://youtu.be/pf1t7cs9dkc?t=985 ). In it, he was quick to make fun of Frank O' Toole, a man from Broad Channel, New York who had his house destroyed by Hurricane Sandy and rebuilt it in the same spot, despite constant flooding, because he couldn't see himself in any other neighborhood. Growing up in a similarly close-knit (and similarly threatened) neighborhood fairly close to Broad Channel, I sympathized with his determination to stay right where he is. Shoutout to you, Frank.
Seema Nov 2017
When born
Raised
Then torn
Praised

Left alone
Scattered
Then mourn
Shattered

One once
Loved
Then left
Broken

Deeply hurt
Unspoken
Life unreal
Woken

Sad truth
Reality
Relations no
Quality

Bitter life
Living
Nothings worth
Grieving

Live yourself
Enjoy
Don't become
A toy

Love self
More
Live to the
Core

©sim
Richard Grahn Sep 2017
gentle waters flow
through the channels of the mind
silk dreams streaming by
Richard Grahn Sep 2017
A river flowing
Through the channels of my mind
Just dreams streaming by
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