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Payton Feb 25
Rock n’ roll music, Folger’s, and paint-smeared hands.
Dresser drawers filled to the brim with undeveloped camera film.
Blue bonnets and overgrown grass, pecans and crunching fall leaves.
Dirt roads and river-rocks, typewriters, polaroid cameras, and feather-quill pens.
Those hand-me-down blue eyes and brown ones that are “sometimes hazel.”
Crystal clusters and Lord of the Rings.
Countless mosquito bites and play-pretend games in the clubhouse.
Early-birds and night-owls.
Trudy; and Randy Hayes.
“Don’t touch everything you see,” and “If you say you’re bored, I’ll find work for you to do.”
Sweet tea and okra and southern dishes blackened and drenched in cheese or gravy.
Grandma always burned everything to make sure it was fully cooked, and to her, it was never burned, just “well-done.”
Cigarettes and carpentry and cookbooks. Wild blackberries and birthday parties at the lake.
Sleeping in all day and staying up all night and procrastination.  
Shepherd's Pie, potatoes, and four-leaf clovers.
“Nil Desperandum. Never Despairing.”  
I’m from a whole house that eats eggs for breakfast, and I’m allergic to eggs.
And trees as tall as buildings and buildings as tall as trees.
“You should never take the lord’s name in vain,” and “Jesus loves you, so you should love others.”
Day-dreams and stargazing and thunderstorms.
“All or nothing,” and “There is no try, only do.”
Old family pictures in dust-glittered frames.
We are crystals. We have facets, each one makes us who we are.
With only one window of our lives to express, we’d merely be glass.
I am a part of each of these things just as much as they are each a part of me.
This poem was written in 2017.
Payton Feb 24
There once was
a moth that
had wings
of crystal
and when
he tried to fly,
he always dropped to the ground
and shattered into a million pieces.

Sometimes, I feel like that moth.

But I look into your
eyes and see
the
magic
that rests there
and I remember that
moths are beautiful, and
even when broken, crystals
are beautiful, too.
This poem was written in 2016.
As sands flow through
The glass this hour
My will
Stays free
And filled with power

Now is
the time
To act and choose
To plant and sow
No sand -
to lose

Creation comes
As no surprise
For all my
Thoughts
Get crystallized
This is Prosperity Poem 102 at ProsperityPoems.com and you can see it displayed on a beautiful background (copy and paste the link below). https://prosperitypoems.com/delivery102TheHourglass.html
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The Hourglass background was an option for another poem, but wasn't chosen as the winner.  Yet, The Hourglass had such striking symbolism and clarity that I decided to write a poem just for that picture.

We live in an expanding universe.  Seeds grow.  Thoughts grow.  If we plant the right seeds and act in the NOW, then we can manifest more of what we truly desire in life.
Seline Mui Dec 2020
Green beautiful glimmers
The whole way down smooth crackle foundation
Love on the rising vibrating me outwards
The universe takes a hold and sings the song of creation
Caressing me in a beautiful love song
Crystals energized with forest green,luminescent yellow fading into a stream of mirrors, reflecting
Bring me life and strength
Trusting the love, my protector, my ancestor
Tinted blue smooth skin cold to the touch
Silver long striking hair branding infinity into my memory, my film that is me.
The infinite being that was created to see
All the love and light that has guided
My path into security,
Screaming “love” down the tunnel and hearing my heartbeat pulsing against the beautiful sunset of a curious night.
Wordsmith Jun 2020
There she stood
Tall and assured
Charming but not boastful --

An energizing silence
A magnetic pull, all-knowing
Drawing me closer --

A scar I notice
A defect somewhat
An impurity they say --

She cares not to hide it
She basks in it
Pride in memory --

I come to hold her in esteem
Sets her apart
A quiet confidence --

A connection inimitable
I fondly remember
And she revels in remembrance --
A note of appreciation for my crystal friend.

Defects in crystals lend them their uniqueness.  Like every person is unique to their own DNA, we too should discover and embrace our own unique gifts.

Fun Fact: Scientists have discovered Calcite Micro-Crystals in the pineal gland of the human brain. These crystals have piezoelectric properties with excitability in the frequency range of mobile telecommunications.

Perhaps our very own wireless transmitter linking us to universal consciousness.
Erian Rose May 2020
frosty crystals clung to
light shows on windowsills
they ran faster than their hands
could touch
on the run from racing time
streams of comfort left
rainy roads bare
to them,
nothing on earth compared
Irery May 2020
Pink dream, cotton candy
Like a warm-hearted cancer
Snugged in my palm tightly
hushing my nightly distress with an answer.

Gently tuck you in my pillow case
Wish for calming waves to drift me away

Time after time, night after night
Second after second

Heavy-lids say farewell to
Non-existent slumber

Rose Quartz
sara May 2020
When a flower begins to grow,
do you hear it cry?
Does it fret about the water supply,
or the illogical odds of snow?
In spring does it wish for the summer,
or that rather it grew by the lake?
No- it blooms without worry, with grace,
and this is Man’s biggest mistake.
when we slow down, and reconnect with ourselves, we realise our inner capability and potential. Stress negates abundance, don’t sleep on your true self x
Eli Apr 2020
The red moon illuminates,
over the water,
crystals...
My stomach is pierced with blades,
thousands of them,
stars...
And darkness fills my empty heart,
dancing with the devil,
beauty...
But the deepest shades of gray,
will never be mine,
tragedy...
And if by the end, indeed I'm dead, cry,
tears in my memory, sweet
melodies...
But the red moon is painted with blood,
and it happens to be my veins,
luck...
And still the saddest birds cries it's tune,
bright in the early month of June,
love...
enjoy :)
Michael R Burch Mar 2020
Alien Nation
by Michael R. Burch

for J. S. S., a "Christian" poet

On a lonely outpost on Mars
the astronaut practices “speech”
as alien to primates below
as mute stars winking high, out of reach.

And his words fall as bright and as chill
as ice crystals on Kilimanjaro —
far colder than Jesus’s words
over the “fortunate” sparrow.

And I understand how gentle Emily
felt, when all comfort had flown,
gazing into those inhuman eyes,
feeling zero at the bone.

Oh, how can I grok his arctic thought?
For if he is human, I am not.

Note: The coinage “grok” appears in Robert Heinlein’s classic sci-fi novel "Stranger in a Strange Land." The novel’s protagonist, Valentine Michael Smith, was raised on Mars by enlightened Martians, and he often feels out of sorts on Earth, where he struggles to grok (understand deeply and profoundly) earthlings and their primitive, often inhuman, ways. Keywords/Tags: Mars, astronaut, alien, primates, stars, words, ice, crystals, Jesus, sparrow, Emily, Dickinson, zero, bone, arctic, thought, human, inhuman
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