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Diána Bósa Aug 2
I am looking for a blueprint for love
the one I've once felt about you.
The perfect blue paper
that helps me figure things out
that tells secrets about a lover's skin and sighs
- the ones I knew as yours.
Now I wish to redraw, then admire its design:
relearn, then follow its patterns
down to my very heart.
I want to rebuild its structure,
recreate the way that is no more,
to have the perfect edition of it;
a guide to my true self,
the one who once knew what it felt like
to be in love with someone like you.
Realms of pure imagination
Spark my heart and my desire
Soon I feel the inspiration
Urging me to go much higher
Oh, imagine all my angels
Rushing down with wings afire
Oh, imagine all my angels
Bringing all that I require

Worlds of pure imagination
Stir the yearnings of my mind
Filling me with motivation
Adding to my rich design
I imagine wealth and beauty
In my outer world combined
I imagine wealth and beauty
When I seek then I will find

Fields of pure imagination
This is where my work must start
For the outer worlds of matter
Build upon the mind and heart
I imagine and I prosper
Building wealth this way is smart
I imagine and I prosper
Forming wealth is mental art
This is Prosperity Poem 22 at  and you can see it displayed on a beautiful background here
Brown hair, some highlights.
Pale skin, slightly tanned, many imperfections
Blue eyes.

Black glasses.

Pink, thick lips
Usually smiling
But sometimes frowning

Not even 5'0
Slightly curvy

Tank top
Scull leggings

Small feet
4s in woman's
Or 4.5

I can't remember.

Grey or brown
But it's usually boots.

Is this me?
All I will ever be?

But you get it.
Down in the earth I plant a small seed
Time passes by - it grows what I need
Matter expanding, building from earth
Proving the young seed’s worth

Oh, how perfect is the grand design
I can harvest all of what is mine
Follow the laws, and truly believe
Reach out and I’ll receive

Deep in my mind, a prosperous plan
My seeds of wealth, to grow what I can
I’ll plant the seeds of wealth with delight
God gives the warmth and light

Oh, how perfect is the grand design
I can harvest all of what is mine
Follow the laws, and truly believe
Reach out and I’ll receive
This is Prosperity Poem 24 at  and you can see it displayed on a beautiful background here
Shofi Ahmed Jun 13
Move big start small the golden ratio
is always 1.618 something is never 2.
But gives the formula to design flawlessly on the go
from micro to macro level all the way to the true north!
I can't but feel designed
to have it on my mind:

the god who no god has,
since God is who He is,

whose breath inspires the wind,
I seek &  hope to find.
life’s expanse is hard
only better in your path’s eagle height
understand this before the world began reward
what you do, as he said, done well

silhouetted smoke, sadness, silvery time, sagacious

music is the holiday
oozing into this side of paradise
beautiful like a moon out in day
lives fast like birds as free as you over the sky

music is the religion
just leaving town for now
what do you have playing
takes your soul riding
even through the night

on freeways through gilded hills, until now
raceling traveling to my coastal world, edge and heights

song lonely, giving bliss
seeping from the other side of heaven’s doors
dreamy like dawn’s first lights for
lives fast horses bronze racing as fast as they always could

dressed in true worship
festivities, this is purely living
dreamy and propitious
blessed with a slightly sullen glow
don’t belong here no more than he

chance at pure light in each spin around the garden
play and design life today, Lord knows the time we have awake

I’m a soul eternal, living vigil of the
gentle diamonds falling summer,
horse country sunset wonder

when I get back in from all, azure skies like a billion stars
these days will seem strangely far away but you’ll love me all the same
life is an interlude
when the world began
I was doing dreamily
sent out to a foreign land
with a vague recollection
of the pleasant paradise
I came from

how the creation seems so real, pacing around the garden
it’s always a revolution, I said, I can dig that
bronze trees before an azure darkening sky
down the cool breeze’s path, never held back your thoughts, heavenly shock
grabbing all the meaning, whatever I can come across

year already asked for an ending, gave it all my hopes, tell does it give a pleasant thrill
pictures were nice, the highway desert isn’t as scorching
absurder yes, fitting a preference for divine and outlandish

waited long enough
it’s a good time to leave
not that it was for nothing

travel before the sun gets here
make it bright and far as my
midnight music

games are fun when there’s a warning
about how much it can cost ya

numbers of stars, the more
that’s the hope
out there
somewhere too

I want an interlude that’s graceful, great as designed, a strange but heavenly dream
it’s my interlude
robot mom Mar 27
It begins with a sketch. Then a thought.

A question: inquiring further to develop a solution.
Resolve an issue creatively: brainstorming, creative thinking, problem solving.
Trusting your gut, asking for help, and listening.

Thinking about people.
Who is this for? Where are they located?
How will they see it? How will it benefit them?
What is the impact? What is our desired outcome?

A return to expectations. How do they compare to reality?

Another question: do our goals line up?
Is the long term strategy supported by smaller plans?
And do we lift others up instead of pushing them down?
Tommy Randell Feb 28
They have made a font
From the shape of chairs,
It has all manner of uses.

It took a team
Of well trained creative's
Using all their creative juices.

As far as I can tell
All the letter shapes and styling
Could well be made from planks,

And no doubt they'd all look good,
Go so far as to say beguiling,
In the cafes of Sweden or France.

But here in England,
With our usual weather,
It does tend to rain a bit

And, checking out the font's design,
The rain would puddle
Right where one sits.

Not that one sits on a font,
One has to remember I'm sure
This is merely a conceptual piece -

A piece of poetry in action,
An artwork of the absurd
About nothing but the artist's conceit.

A font then for printing,
For typing poems not sitting in,
Like many almost unreadable.

Still like much that is designed
More than a little contrived,
Fun is about more than the feasible!
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