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Veritia Venandi Oct 2020
Beyond the realm of reality and at the doorstep of dreams...

There's a place...

It is where you will find me...

Sleepily awake!
Life seems to be continuation of reality and dreams... Each generating each other in return... Forming a self sustaining endless drama!

N yes I dwell in between the two... Most of the times!

Thank you for reading this! ❤
Gabriel burnS Feb 2020
you’re giving me more time to recuperate
elongating anguish
as you linger on the trigger-jaws;
give me that point-blank love
bathing teeth in baptism
our blood is fire
our blood is one
can it be that you find
we’ve snapped at each other

this time we re-create the universe together
shifting seamlessly from animal to human form
and we’re the voice, the hand, the couple,
the first, the last, the apple

This time we bite together


Произход (на Искрите)

даваш ми повече време да се възстановя
удължава се мъчението
витаеш около спусъка на челюстите;
дай ми от упор любов
да окъпе зъби в кръщение
кръвта Ни е огън
кръвта Ни е едно
възможно е да откриеш
че сме се впили един в друг
в същия момент

този път Ние ще сътворим вселената наново
плавно ще се претворяваме от звяр в човек
Ние сме гласът, ръката, двойката,
първите, последните, ябълката

този път отхапваме заедно
...and in 8 blinks love created our world /... и за 8 мигвания любовта създаде света Ни
Poetic T May 2019
Our children are the breath
                    that continues after us.
So we must show them
                                that every breath is precious.

That every moment is a continuation
                                         of those before us,
Even though we breath,
we must remember the words exhaled before us.
Colm Apr 2019
When you find it
Put your finger on it
And press it down on the table before you
All you want is it, over and over again
For that present moment of non-suffering
To continue on
And to never end
Wherever it is, in faith or not. Hold on to it for a little bit. And then let go of it once again. As is our nature.
Michael Sep 2018
Life, as you travel through, gets you in its twists and turns.
Traversing the ups and downs will leave you feeling consumed.
Squandering the ups and downs will leave you feeling consumed.
Squandering the ups because the downs deplete you.
You need to get up and fight, not let it defeat you.
You barely have the strength to stand, yet giving up does not exist within you.
You are all in, you’re fatigued, you’re spent and your tiered.
Your soul is just another victim of the comprehensive depletion.
You’re a hollow shell now, but still you don’t surrender.
What do you fight for and why do you stay?
Do you battle this world for just one more day?
Pushing on for one more day.
soph Jul 2018
Still stuck behind the glass wall
There’s no use in getting out
No use in communicating
The people on the other side have given up, too
I slump down to the floor in a state of defeat
Resting my head on my knees
I feel a knocking on the glass
I turned my head
A smile grew on my face
Someone like me!
Someone that understands!
I could tell in his eyes
He was behind a glass wall, too
“Do you feel my heart saying hi?”
A bond formed
From nothing else
But our life behind those glass walls
I reached through the glass
And took his hand
I’m no longer alone
I attempted a continuation (ooooooh) of a poem I wrote called Glass around a month ago

the best conclusion I can give without really giving away the intended meaning of the metaphor is that it’s really good to find someone that can relate to you :’)
Poetic T Jun 2018
We escape the confines of the flesh
         through the skin of the dead
for we read unseen words woven
                   like a tapestry on them.

But you can only read what you
have vanquished, and momentarily
it will tell you the future of
                              8,409,600 breathes.

But once the last one expels you must
read upon another for the future has

Only the dead can tell you the words
of the future as there's was taken for
                                my continuation.
I have read many words but soon
                       I must read them again.

My future out ways yours, for I must
breath and read the words of a future
                                      you'll never see.
Brenda Mukisa Nov 2017
Maybe its all about the little things

May be its not
This life didnot come with rules and regulations

Genesis reminds us how much we ****** at them.

May be that is the point.

That you alone can decide what to become.

You alone know how you feel inside.

You alone know how far you've come.

So, become what ever you like.

Even if it means changing your mind every day.
read 2003. It explains this poem.
we were born

truth hurts

Saint Audrey Nov 2017
Every passing moment
Caught staring at the blissful sky
Decorating the ceiling

Awash in the glow
Of light that hides away just out of frame
It's been burning low

Thoughts of my life still beckon, as the world takes a somber tone
But the timing is right, pulled in this effortless misdirection
It's numbing

Found myself here
Why isn't that enough...

A gilded cage. Maybe
I guess
I'd rather let the summer air drench the weathered wood
Another recessed cycle, all timeless til its over
Lie here lifeless
With nothing left to fight
Only time
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