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Does it count
as a lie
if I believed it was true—
when I said it,
when I swore to it?
I was misinformed
or else
I did not listen well...
but either way
I jumbled the facts
short of
the truth.
Lick me,
let our body set us free.
Savor me,
and y'all gonna see.
Smell me,
and we're gonna count one, two, three.
Flirt with me,
and I'll make sure you're gonna across the sea.
*** with me,
and I'll let you numb your knee.
Wake me,
because I feel lust already.
Internal battles meant to be discounted
And anxieties rumored as dismounted
While nothing could have amounted
To the tales within those mountains
Regarded and enabled as fountains
Of flowing wisdom which hasn’t counted
The melody of life yet to be sounded
A treasure seemed and well-rounded
Singular rhyming sequence based on my ruminating about worries and fears.
Number of night stars
Like how many thoughts of you
Is too high to count
So true
Wood burns from blue flames
Air drawn in does change
Prepared for events to unfold
Stationary held for take off
Past the count of numbers out
Breathing easier now
A transient being announced
Green lady elevates state
Orange eyes merge, lights diverge
Lifted into what seems to be
A tunnel of colourful multiple Vs
Pleasant fate when identity dissipates
No pain, no pressures, no claims
Just white space
Until pulled back into this place
To live a life again
(@PoeticTetra - instagram/twitter)
Lunar Oct 2020
I could never count
the three words
for you.

It was always
just one, two, or four.
"Us," "What if,"
And "What could have been."
I don't know how to spell it, but I know how to spell your name.

(j.m.)
Claudius May 2020
I started working again-
Suddenly I have to remember how to talk to people again.
Do I say "hello" first or do I introduce myself without a greeting?
I need to learn to smile with my eyes instead of my mouth because the mask covers it all night.
So many people are out and I can't help but wonder if those three months were for nothing.
Day 80 and everyone seems to act like they've forgotten what we were all fighting for.
I started a new job and it's the first time I've had to interact with people other than my roommate.
Path Humble Aug 2018
the count starts now (tired of tired)


I read your outcry at 3:00am
posted on Facebook

you are
tired of tired
sick of sick
the only question, will it ever end...

rise this day,  start another way...

count your blessing
count against all odds
for there are more than merely one

use both hands
both hands chested to feel the heart thrusting,
for living is a wondrous blessing unique
an unbelievable to believe than so many beats,
born and borne,
by you, a strength unequaled,
you a richness possessed

count that one first.
count my hands holding your shoulders.
count that as two, one for me, one for you.

more? more.  

mirror.  find the tiny light in each eye against a yellow backdrop.

add two more. for they are a sparking confidence of confirming.

you felt the heart thrumming
go back, feel the breathing warmth breaching forth.
add another. for now known you can never ever be cold.

wash the face, wash away the caution that sleep leaves,
the coverlet of fear that fears you not to dare,
amazing that tap water plain is sacred when it
miracle breaks you out and anoints thy forehead with pure oil like the kings of yore, be a kingly human being.

go out. do not return
until one act of kind is performed and
count that as a thousand blessed, a sum recurring recounted

walk humble and the path will always appear.
walk contented for you can be both king and servant,
there is no difference - you must be both to be the other
one.

and if you still cannot raise the head,
call me.
that would be a blessing for me
and I will hear your blessings sounds mine merge,
dear friend and no more stranger,
that is the simplest definition of our learning to count to
infinity
4:00am I read your cry on facebook ph pathhumble
Sovit Pokhrel May 2020
A master craftsman,
Well bred and fed,
Counting his days,
Days spent, over Days left.

Days, spent searching a craft.
Days, spent learning the craft.
Days, spent working the craft.
Days, spent perfecting the craft.

A master craftsman,
Well bred and fed,
Counting his days,
Days spent, over days left.

Days, left to live.
Days, left for love.

Days, he spent, drifiting from life.
Days, he has left, too little to go back.
Days, he spent, he wishes, he had more.
Days, he has left, only them,
and nothing more !!!
All our lives we run behind what the society has considered the epitome of success  only to realise that we have completely forgotten to live our lives in the process. Start living before its too late. Spend time with the people you love, tell them how much you love them.
Luna Wrenn May 2020
I’ve swam the seven seas, till I almost drown.
I’ve broken my heart so many times that I finally lost count.
I’ve lost my way somewhere beyond the trees.
If you could help me find it….
I’m looking for peace.
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