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One of my
earliest memories is
of afternoons in
the backyard, standing on
a wrought iron chair that
was painted
lime green.
My creativity was ferril.
The paint was peeling,
And the sun beat down
upon me.

I was 5 years old.
and the Genesis of my
writing career began.
Below my chair was a plastic
swimming pool filled with water.
I sang leaving on a jet plane  I
I understood pathos,
and plot, and melancholia.
In my mind, I was a man
leaving a woman.
As I jumped into the pool
I could smell loneliness.
And I understood the
descent, the separation,
the sadness.

And in my little life,
and in my big heart,
under that hot July sun,
The poet was born.
Martin Boško Jun 12
Never to speak your words again (again, again, again...)
Punished for transgressions of Hera's man (man, man, man...)
So cruel is the heaven's queen (queen, queen, queen...)
jealous wife sure can be mean (mean, mean, mean...)

Poor Echo sentenced without jury (jury, jury, jury...)
An innocent victim of divine fury (fury, fury, fury...)
Deprived of voice, cruel price to pay (pay, pay, pay...)
Tortured by things that she cannot say (say, say, say…)
Martin Boško Jun 10
Oh, how strongly I am missing
Those simpler times when everybody would have listened
Oh, how tired am I
Of being ignored when the end is nigh
Oh, how much did I pay
For choosing chastity over Apollo's dark rays
Oh, how much will I suffer
From those evil hands that will treat me rougher
Oh, how evil gods can be
When mortals hurt their vanity
Oh, oh, oh
I wish I didn't know
from the day I was born
I wasn’t meant to belong to myself
a cursed being without any power of control

my fate was written
in a lazy handwriting
on a wrinkled piece of paper

very early in life I learned so
that I had strings tied to my limbs
and I would never be able to walk alone

any glance of freedom
where I dared to dream
was followed by a unwanted label

i’ve always been
someone’s sister
someone’s youngest child
someone’s crush
someone’s heartbreak
but never
in the purest
the freest
I often lose myself because of other’s expectations and labels
Seconds sire seasons, life by stroll or sprint fades.

In search of higher reasons, none are ignorant of the null totality of yesteryear.

Time is neither favour nor fear; for Oak roots expand their domain, just as vast canopies usurp heaven’s terrain; a babe’s bones are made strong, even more so as toddlers play, yet still shatter, to dust decay, by the passage of Time’s decades.

Live this life, for better or worse; surmount the strife, and derive blessing from curse.
Deep in the realms of time and space
Opposition takes its place
By helping us to stretch our wings
We reach up toward higher things

In the beginning - Dark and Light
Swirling - sparking day and night
The yin & yang both show their face
In this realm of time and space

With opposites - come choices too
Choose the things we think and do
These opposites in time and place
See not as curse, but healing grace

Thus darkness can define the light
Dusk precedes the dawning bright
Flow with rhythm - accept the pace
Of opposites in time and space
This is Prosperity Poem 119 at and you can see it displayed on a beautiful background (copy and paste the link below).

In this realm of time and space we experience opposites.  We experience yin and yang, darkness and light, day and night, happiness and misery.

One of the lines in this poem is "See not as curse, but healing grace".  Our life and our prosperity will flow better when we open and accept the opposites in the world, rather than chafe that we experience bad days, misunderstandings, and illness sometimes.

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As I stood
Alongside a lake
I contemplated
At the holy fish
Fearlessly they swimed
Fearlessly they jumped
It was a holy lake
Fishing wasn't allowed
Fearlessly they dived
Fearlessly they survived
For there was a curse
Anyone fishing a fish
As a ***** they would finish
As I contemplated
A beauty appeared
Hi, you're a star
In the galaxy?
I enquired
No, she said
In my eyes
The lion roared
In the nearby safari
The lion roared
In my heart
I was so powerful
I was so smart
I said, OK, try!
Neither she was holy fish
Nor I was holy fish
We fished and fished!
rig Feb 19
mind the mind, mind of mine – mind
the body and be bothered.
away the water and wait:
voice veers vicious, violent.
forget forevers for now.
leave a little letter in
cursive, of course – curse this curse.
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