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Smara 7d
"Be bold instead of broken."

Piece by piece
I created my Heaven.

Each time you entered;
took something from my garden.

Keep coming and keep going,
in an endless loop.

Rotting everything,
whatever comes to your way,

STOP this SCARIFICE...!
A voice SHOUTED from inside.
Don't give all to someone, who ignore your efforts and love.
Be careful.
"Be bold instead of broken."
You can decide. You can create
You are the weaver of spirit
You conquer over whim and fate
Embrace creation - don’t fear it

You are the reason earth is here
Rejoice in your will and power
Share this message for all to hear
And remind yourself every hour

You are the actor of your “play”
So play up an excellent part
Rise up with hope this very day
Each creation a brand new start
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More of your life is in YOUR power than you ever dreamed.  If we aren't consciously creating, then we resort to habit and expectations to form our life.

This poem is about YOU and the ability to shape your life.  Play up an excellent part!
rebecca May 1
we chant and drum in agog celebration,
leaping through fires of creation!
queen, dance around the fire they bring,
collapse into the kiss of the green king!
time has almost come
for the gods of the sun
to warm the ground beneath our feet!
bringing fire, new life, rebirth, heat!
earth mother, open up!
give birth to new crop,
so, on this fertile bright night,
we cast out the darkness,
welcoming the light!
happy beltane!! blessed be!!
Beckie Davies Apr 19
I created her with passionate  love
I destroyed her with enraged wrath
I mourned her with remorseful grief
I remembered her in languid dreams
i created you only to destroy you
🖤🖤🖤
Gabriel Apr 15
Take four
and make mistakes,
wake in the morning
to check
that your fingers are attached
to the undeniable spot
where your hands end.
Watch the clock
in case it stops;
Dislodge the plaque
behind your gums
and scream in silence
at reflection-you.
Tick tock.
Script the helix
and watch it spiral,
dipped in mothers’ milk,
everyone, gather round
for the epiphany
T-minus twelve days.
Creation calls.
Victor Frankenstein here?
Making something other than history,
constriction in the surgical instruments.
The fate you are going to meet
is going to be so beautiful
for everyone else.
You are going to scream.
You know,
a lot of this is about birth.
Through these broken walls
I hope you realise
that everything here
is supposed to create life.
Even the mistakes.
Someday I’ll write a love letter
to Rosalind Elsie Franklin, like the ones
strewn about my bedroom,
where I tell her about my day
and ask if she would like to stir sugar
into tea with me
and call it a case study into romantics.
Now, pick your metaphor
and run with it, show me
how exactly you’re supposed
to be reading this.
And when you find the answer,
let me know.
Welcome to the beginning.
From a collection of poetry I wrote for a creative writing portfolio in second year of university, titled 'Spiral'.
Jay Apr 12
A dense mist hangs over the ground
Spreading tendrils over flora and fauna.
Clouds begin their quiet weeping.
Soft, gentle drops fall on the pavement.

A young girl hops along, splashing in puddles.
She trips and scrapes her knee...
Red liquid oozes through freshly ripped jeans.
Soft, gentle drops fall on the pavement.

After some time, the girl is all grown up.
A casket is lowered under the soil.
The girl, Tiffany Clear, walks home sobbing.
Soft, gentle drops fall on the pavement.
The Melody within
No longer reverberates
That beauteous love song
O, that Bountiful Ballad but
My heart sings a brand new paean:
One of creation,
Of Wisdom,
Of freedom,
Of might,
Of consecration.

Yes, sometimes solitude
Heightens our spiritual senses,
Reawakens our provident defences;
O, denudes our vexations.
Know the Sacral Light
Absolving every deathly pang
Is found
By Dovening Divine Aether,
And summoning the Silver Wings
Of the Holy Dove.

Movement is neither peripheral
Nor internal;
Pain is neither deserved
Nor natural;
All things
Are just as they appear
To be
An evident demonstration
Of a
Higher fidelity.

Matter reverberates upon the
Molecular level;
We are, more
Than flesh, bone, and marrow;
We are,
Life, Love, and Liberty;
We are, a
Breathing Song
That exhales edification, inspiration,
Contemplations, and excogitations.

(Se' lah)
Excelsior Forevermore,

Sanders Maurice Foulke III

01/23/2021
a small group of individuals
bound by the intersectionality
of their detriments
meet;

and although alone we stand
in head and heart and hand
together the mind and the heart gave birth
to something each of us forgot we were worth:

when we are together, a real person is born
not through the perceptivity of gore and of ****-
but of virtue and strength being visible not
to anyone other than us 3 who forgot.
for Irving and Morgan
~
From the initial dawning

lithium sky met infernal waters

and it all went awry

the light of happiness

constituted halos

leaving intimate words

paperclipped, tongue-tied

and love bruises

upon inner thigh

the wellspring enveloped

char and holm

with faint kissed alkali

abating the stormy umbrage

as if a softly whispered lullaby

and suddenly along this watermark

only you, me

and the need to multiply

~
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