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Zywa Sep 24
Don't trust him! He's nuts,

he even confuses Kant --

with Schopenhauer!
Novel "Meneer Visser's hellevaart" ("Mr. Visser's harrowing of hell", 1934, Simon Vestdijk), published in 1936, chapter 4

Collection "Inmost [2]"
Zywa Jul 1
We didn't dare, but could

we have done it anyway?

Just believe in it?
Poem "Het tankstation op de route" - 2 ("The filling station on the route" - 2, 2013, Jan Baeke

Collection "Stall"
Kamal Apr 13
Drifting through life
Me, myself, and I
Taking what is handed to me
Never asking for much
Never wanting more
Than a simple yes
Me, myself, and I
Scared of rejection
Terrified of ridicule
Drifting and hoping
To land on a solid ground
To anchor down
To feel your love!
Me, myself and I

Take the chance they don't today
May be risky who's to say
The stars above

Blindly stepping off the cliff
Move too quick while they're all stiff
Fool for love

Look around as they despise
Mocking stares at the one who cries
Away you shove

Take a lesson from the fool
The hero others cannot rule
Fly like a dove

rather than check
the forecast
for some reason
i think it enough
to merely
look to the sky
for a cursory
ten or so seconds
to observe the drifting
of weighty clouds
the overwhelming of
any strokes of blue
that might remain
being diminished
by the shifting greys
of approaching rain
before surmising
whether or not
a coat or umbrella
might be needed
at some point
in the coming hours
A lot of people had  come and gone. Even those we confined on. Regardless betrayal.

It's absolutely true that, even a family can never be together forever,

we must spread, the Earth is so wide. As the space of heaven free and wide.

Sometime now we little have to worry about who stay or leave the vehicle of sages. What travels around return back about same place.

Wide and free space under sky, hoping God save us a place in paradise.

Either remain true. Needa stay real. - C9fm
It's inspired of a social media group, by the exit of people, one after the other. And there this work derived from.
Lyn-Purcell Jan 31

Swathed in my caution
I search to find my daring
Fire cracks my egg
I've been long since lost
Colours of the creative
Dulled by daily trudge
I hear the wind call
Fearing the might of my wings
Fall before I fly

Guess who's back! ^-^ on my 995th poem too, ***!
I hope everyone's alright in their part of the world. It's long overdue that I reconnect with my past love. Daily life is droll but I'm slowly finding my colours again. I still don't feel worthy of my pen at times but this is a blessing. Hard to believe that we will be in February tomorrow. May 2023 be a fantastic year for you all! I'll definitely be posting more this year. To reconnect to my inner child and creativity. It's long overdue that I try to spread my wings instead of dealing with the constant fall.
Much love to you beautiful souls out there
P.S - Melissa, this one's for you! ❤️
Take care all!
Lyn ***
Chris Bee Dec 2022
I wish my small voice,
the one that cracks,
could fill a room with music.

Longing for a deep baritone,
able to turn heads
and take their breath away

I want to garner respect;
have most know me
from voice alone.

A lonely world it is
not having that strong voice
or even a room to fill it with.
A poem about music, but more about confidence.
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