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David Bojay Nov 2017
there's a science behind you//
a science you don't think about everyday//
genetics//
**** your mother, or **** your father//
or bless them//
judgement doesn't exist, so why does it matter//
words don't mean much, give what you want some meaning//
you're all that, you're not all that//
you're nobody, and that's beautiful//
Star BG Nov 2017
I shall WRITE
inside day
with intention to make a difference.

Scribing from mind to HEART,
HEART to PEN,
PEN to SCREEN.

I shall write
tweaked by senses
with goal to make a difference.

Composing, as if words
are feet of dance,
and breath is ink.

And so I shall scribe
adding my contribution
to the group conscious grid
so others rise.

The place, where my own star shines
bright upon world
to make a difference

StarBG © 2017
Inspired by Xaviera Allan
David Bojay Nov 2017
Everything takes little time//

Even the bad things//

It's how you approach a situation that gives the moment light//

I'm laying down thinking of ideas to make some kind of money with what I do//

But it's the same as me asking you to pay me for pooping//

This just happen//

Words come together and this connection between me and you....(happens)//

Just like that.... I wonder if you're okay//

Or if anything is..... because sometimes the world turns upside down and we can only live through the change//

It's Friday, 1:30 AM.... (my love is asleep)//

I wonder if she's snoring//

Part of me wants to continue making this thing people call art.... part of me is still trying to untangle the ropes holding me back from being (more)//

At least I know, I'm never less... at lest I think so//
K Balachandran Oct 2017
O! mighty elements of nature,
each standing out,yet interwoven,
in your orchestration, you include  each human,
give rise to a nebulous magic we know as mind,
created for the universe,in a process,mysterious
hoping each would strive for peace in cosmos.

But the consciousness of nature,
one could guess,now feels
increasingly helpless, terrified too on what happens,
reeling in pains of various kind,inflicted upon her.
This as a result of the relentless attack on her
by the unkind mankind,driven by avarice
in a mad spree to reduce flora and fauna in to dust,
that too at an earliest date possible!

Forgive me now, I am a penitent,
shocked by the vision of what awaits
I plant saplings of trees, repenting
with the promise that these tiny greens
will grow to mighty trees once,compensate,
contribute to the well being of all the worlds
aurora kastanias Oct 2017
A concept, a word, poison injected
in worn-out veins, tired of fighting
seeking peace, with weapons on
remote lands disregarded, brainwashed

by spurious terrestrial powers to suggest
indeed there is a reason to continue
colouring flags in red, blood of men sent
at war to protect, rights and honour those

blatantly depriving others of theirs,
secretly eager to quench their greed,
piling up dollar bills closing deals,
giving out coffins, rejoicing for their deeds,

collectively unrecognising freedom is
only to be found in surrender,
to the Universe and its course, fine
tuning our existence to the harmony

of its sublime rhythm elegantly
orchestrated by natural laws, the only
truly ruling, thrusting liberty upon all,
yet too blind to drop the guns

and believe indeed there is much more
to us,
than poison.
On the concept of freedom
aurora kastanias Oct 2017
Consciousness finally puts its foot
down dictating, termination of frivolous
stubborn passions, unilaterally composing
wistful notes of lust, curiosity and fantasy
in broadcasted virtual reality.

Sprang from the enigmatic encounter
of a stranger unknown, fascination swiftly
dressed in seemingly harmless obsession,
longing for ethereal inkless words
deprived of nobility, stripped of their paper

suit and orphaned by a faceless
author. No signature or stamp required,
as they evanescently disappear in the gluttony
web of a careless spider, feeding on them as if
they had no value, reminding me indeed

they have lost their worth, the day
they lost their colour. Consciousness
finally puts its foot down, dictating
termination of frivolous stubborn passions as I
trustingly waited for it to do so.
On deciding to end a love story
Mark Lecuona Oct 2017
I want to love without need
If pain and fear bring me closer to God
Why can only comfort bring me close to you?
Was I born only to find my sinful nature?
I was not born into a religion
Only a culture
The barrier between myself and myself
I don’t know if I can be cleansed
The prism of my perception won’t let me go
Is there enough time now that I know?
I know I am real
I know because you remember how I hurt you
No matter how much time has passed
I know I am real
Because I can only think of unworthiness
Why would an illusion be so weak?
I wonder if love is only in nature
Not like a doe and a fawn
But in a cloud or a tree
There is so much power that I lack
What human could love like that
Without memory of mistake
Or of grievance
I don’t know that I can do that
I know I am real
I can only love what I need
I don’t want to be like that
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