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Press your ear against the bowl
can you hear it ringing
I think the earth is singing
Zywa Feb 23
The ground beneath her

feet has taken her, the earth --


whose praises I sang.
Novel "The Ground Beneath Her Feet" (1999, Salman Rushdie) - Orpheus

Song "The Ground Beneath Her Feet" (2000, lyrics Salman Rushdie, music U2, album "All That You Can't Leave Behind")

Collection "Low gear [2]"
Hadrian Veska Feb 22
The lunar craters sit silently
Painting an image of a bygone war
One that no grass or flowers
Will ever grow over

A war of annihilation
A destruction so complete
It was etched it stone
A grime reminder of a vicious cycle

That the very thing itself
That decimated our moon
And sent it hurdling into the earth
Would one day return to us

To finish what it had begun
Those distant eons ago
Hadrian Veska Feb 21
Rolling hills beneath a low grey sky
The rippling water in the back of my eyes
Stillness hallowed, forlorn and sweet
The black sacred ground beneath my feet

The earth is rich yet nothing here grows
The river has dried and no longer flows
The trees are bare of leaves but not fruit
An omen of something below the deep roots

Does anyone here but lost husks remain
If I stay will anything thus here be gained
Does the sun here rise or does it merely set
The twilight stretches on but cannot end yet
A journey from when to where
Ghostverses Feb 21
heaven on earth.
a strange phrase for such a dreadful place.
i always ask myself, "what makes earth so.. peaceful?"
I have yet to get answer.
sitting here, hearing the rain drip down buildings and houses.
Maybe I can count to a thousand reasons why.
maybe I'm just delusional.
heaven.
that word.
makes very many people happy.
but why not me?
am i afraid?
or am i just dull.
earth.
a planet we humans call home.
but are we really home?
questions like these keep me up at night.
heaven on earth.
why is it so cold?
honestly, I thought about this while my boyfriend is peacefully sleeping. I don't know.. maybe i think better when my partner is a ease. :)
Zywa Feb 15
Princes, princesses,

like everyone, each of us --


is an honoured guest.
Gedicht "Hij is een prins, hij wil geen onderdanen" "He is a prince, he wants no subjects", 1982, Ed Leeflang)

Community for young people with an intellectual disability

Collection  "On the fly"
Robert Ronnow Feb 13
There are 12 types of joy:
simple joy
almost joy
systemic joy
Saturday joy
expressing joy
knowing joy
all joy
max joy
constant inputs of joy
single greatest joy
sacrifice or joy
the face of joy
at the periapsis of earth’s orbit.
Isaace Feb 8
What we learnt from the Masks:
What we did with our freedom:
What we saw when we took up the pen.

Shall we learn what we had learnt once again?
I don't think I could stand another night
Locked inside the shadows of Earth-den.

Subsequently, the Masks coiled around us,
And we set down our penmanship in the shade.
They beckoned us to sing, once again.
The camera is rolling, incessantly capturing every moment of our lives, leaving us with a world that never stops recording, where privacy becomes a luxury unbeknownst to us. In these private matters, we find ourselves stripped of any semblance of secrecy, exposed to the prying eyes of an ever-watchful audience.

As we gaze upon Mother Earth, we see her through an unsettling lens, viewing her as a captivating entity, akin to a seductive **** who has birthed and nurtured countless lives. Yet, contrasting our admiration, there persists an underlying desire to possess and consume her in a primal, carnal manner. It is as if we hold a fetishistic fascination with her, using fiery words to address her before we even think to disrobe ourselves from the layers of convenience and comfort, leaving her vulnerable and exposed.

This portrayal begs the question of how mankind perceives themselves amidst this intimate performance. Are we mere objects to be stripped down and devoured for the amusement of an unfeeling audience? Stripped of our dignity and possessions, we are left bare, vulnerable, and at the mercy of those who derive pleasure from exploiting our vulnerability. It is akin to a mesmerizing striptease, a tantalizing display that leaves us yearning for something greater.

In the face of such exposure, we find ourselves humbled and powerless, compelled to seek solace and redemption from a higher power. Constantly begging to be bathed in the love and mercy of a divine entity, we yearn for a respite from the unyielding gaze of the world. It appears that the world derives pleasure from witnessing us in a state of vulnerability, reducing us to our weakest form, our knees bent in submission.

In this revelatory expansion of the original sentence, we delve deeper into the implications of a world that ceaselessly records our actions. We explore the complex dynamics between humanity and the environment, finding parallels in our treatment of Mother Earth and our own susceptibility to exploitation. The expanded content retains the core meaning and context, while elaborating on the themes of vulnerability, power dynamics, and the search for solace and redemption.
skaldspiller Jan 5
You are a slow lava flow
hard rock over a
flowing magma heart.

The catch of your breath
feels like a mountain shaking.
You are a calm surface,
a gentle heat,
and every mineral I need.

you may never explode,
but any good geologist would agree
a volcano is the best way to go.

let me die
still studying
the very heart of you,
in 50 years or so.
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