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Sarah Sep 2019
Septembers remind us
that change, while inevitable
is always beautiful.
That each season of life
brings different weather.
The flowers don't have to
be blooming year round
for our surroundings
to be full of color.
Transformation
does not have to be
growth to be necessary.
Riz Mack Sep 2019
It just takes one breath to catch the light
An infant spark beckoning a blaze
The sight of a burning heart never fades
One reaching hand can open more than a door
Guide you to a phase you've never been before
A single step forward to embrace the flames
It just takes one

One foray in darkness to meet with everlasting night
Fumbling through the void of an infinite haze
Without truth to guide nothing will come of your ways
Consumed by the pitch, seeking sparks to ignite
It just takes one
it's a french form so that makes it classy
Katlyn Orthman Sep 2019
In the leaves of Autumn
I fall into reds and orange
Existing in moments passing by
And crouching at winters feet
I sway with the breeze
Until it rips away the last of me
And I lay in reds and orange
Of Autumn leaves
Left scattered at the feet of trees
Winter will dismember me
And summer won't remeber me
For I will decay, life is fleet
At the feet of trees
I once was leaves
But Autumns trees
Sway in the breeze
It pulls those leaves
To lay in dirt decay
At the feet of Autumn trees
Ash Aug 2019
Its been a while since I held my pen and wrote
It was a very difficult, long bumpy road
Nothing seems to matter anymore
Its a never ending cycle oh I’m sure
And the lie I keep telling my self
“Tomorrow is a better day”?
Oh what a waste of time when everything is gray.
Hereshecomes Aug 2019
I circle around the halo
That stirs what lies below.
Spinning now
Only excess
materialises in belief form.
What is it about the chimera you construct
For those that don’t exist?
Gasping and grasping on
Slivers from a murdered past
You insist on perfecting gems in souls
Where there are none.
Let it rest my friend … or not
For the fury of Zenobia
Is still lighting
What remains of your life
And mine.
Carl D'Souza Jul 2019
Jim, Clara, Lizzie, and Tim
are sitting comfortably
around a work meeting table
drinking delicious coffee and
eating delectable sandwiches
which their manager provided for free;
these employees love their manager.

Jim, Clara, Lizzie and Tim
area engaged in a ‘Quality-Circle’:
A group of employees
who meet regularly
to consider ways of improving
their workplace.

Jim, Clara, Lizzie and Tim
conceptualise themself
as not slaves but cooperators
with their manager
to improve
the functioning of their workplace
for the benefit of the employees,
and the benefit
of the shareholders, customers, suppliers
management and
their whole society.

Jim, Clara, Lizzie and Tim
are exercising joyful creativity
to identify problems
and discover solutions
which they will diligently implement
to improve their workplace,
to increase their joy and happiness
in their workplace:
by increasing ease of their work,
by increasing efficiency of their work,
by improving quality of their work,
by increasing productivity,
by increasing customer satisfaction,
by improving environmental impacts,
by increasing profits.

Jim, Clara, Lizzie and Tim
realise that a continuously-improving
well-functioning workplace
provides them secure and enjoyable employment;
so, participating in the joyful creativity
of a quality-circle
striving to continuously improve their workplace
makes them feel
joyful and happy.
Mystic Ink Plus May 2019
After all
When you regard
It's time to celebrate
Realized
It's the circle
Without end
You have been travelling
Whole life through

One may consider
It's an end
You accept it never
Begin
Genre: Observational
Theme: Circle of life || The path || Some beginning never begin
English Jam Apr 2019


Luke 12:49
“I came to bring fire to the earth, and how I wish it were already kindled!”


This wasteland, desolate vegetable garden
No crops will grow, no sun will shine
No cool breeze to clean the air
of the smell of decomposition
Just dead things, the decay of man and dreams of hope
Which my black boots stomp on
I walk the ruin in silence

I walk past a monster sleeping by a tree
Turning, frowning
The monster is me
Its eyes are as red as judgement day
As red as the faces of the condemed
Those who stare at the 144 000, wondering if they are worthy
As red as the blood ******* in this ancient garden

This is a battleground
Oozing with pain, pleasure, splendor and misery
Even if Pythia already circled the loser's name in bright red
Allowing the victors to trample holy ground underfoot
Before they disappeared
But me
I stood here
Feeling all feeling being drained out

I walked past a monster weeping by a tree

“Everything good must come to an end,”
Mystery says
Pursing her lips
“And so must everything wicked
But the memories
Those which encircle their victim
And slowly tighten like great snakes
Suffocating their prey
Those last forever
And if those memories last forever
Then how can one remain pure in heaven
Without thinking about sin
Temptation must surely creep in
Poisoning the mind until it is consumed with the idea
Who is pure anyway?”
I know she is lying
(Turning)
But her words are surreal, slurred, seductive
(Frowning)
I look inside my heart to reassure myself
(Turning)
There is hope
(Frowning)
But there’s nothing there

(And the monster is me)


In the vegetable garden
A ruin
A wasteland
I stand
Not really existing


⊣⊙⊢

cait-cait May 2019
i can’t laugh the way i used to laugh.

not for you ...
and not here...

and i can’t create circles just to
run around in
squares, as if i didn’t give you
a piece of me and then
more than all that...

do you remember how we would
watch movies together,
about girls with white hair who would
go swimming
in oceans made of trees?

and do you remember how you
never used to tell me i was wrong,
back when you still understood that it
wasn’t your
place
to fight me...

because...
i remember that.
I want to write again
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