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Ikigai Poet Jul 2019
I was brainstorming while reading a book,
Forgetting about the existence of the words
Which once, took my breath away.

Standing atop a mountain,
Placing my eyes at the peak,
Seeing the tides of time and the very history,
Unfold, change and manifest.
The rise of the wind,
The rise in the energy,
What a rush it was.

Standing at the fields,
I plunged my nose,
Into the springs of hope,
I held my breath to see what the future unveils,
What will the winds of time bring,
No one knows.

I had my ears hearing the
Tales of brave men fighting to conquer their freedom
Singing the hymn of glory and hope.
Instead of writing a poetry on the
Pages of frontiers,
I set my skin free on the continuum of feelings
To feel every emotion there is,
To heat up with anger
To send chilling waves of horror
And to get excited when happy.
I set my skin free to feel this life.

I now am enlightened,
Realizing that there’s light everywhere,
Every emotion, every flower, every being
And everything is made up of this light.
We’re all cosmic beings made of stardust
That can’s be stopped from illuminating out
The shine of it’s potential and excellence.
With all the knowledge and enlightenment within me,
I still wonder,
Aren’t we all a galaxy of stars trapped inside human body
Trying to find our way back?
-Ikigai Poet
Sharmila Juliet Jun 2019
With the hurt my wounded dark soul
With the hurt my wounded dark soul
Seeking little bit of the light to enlighten
Seeking little bit of the light to enlighten
To enlighten the dark my wounded soul
Seeking little bit of the light with hurt

Pour on me some of your light
Pour on me some of your light
Lend me your little stars to brighten
Lend me your little stars to brighten
Lend me some of your light
Pour on me your little stars to brighten

Delight me with your favour
Delight me with your favour
Let me feel high with every right
Let me feel high with every right
Let me feel high with your favour
Delight me with every right

Enlighten my hurt dark soul
Seeking your light to brighten
Wounded me, feel little bit of high
Pour on me with little favour
Lend me some of your stars
Let every right delight me
Poem Format : Paradelle Poem
blushing prince Jan 2019
i often think about the people that go hit by meteorites
how space shrapnel invited itself into their homes
took its' shoes off and shimmied into the floor
asteroid junk, hold me closer
tell them they're not alone
that one day they'll burst, or be swept
all just soot in the end
this dust, this sand
can fill up a city
i can be that city

how likely is it to be struck by lightning?
and will i be the lucky one
tell me, will it shake the truths out of me
will it burn my hair like it did when someone got too close and their cigarette got even closer
the way it sizzled and made the air hard to breathe
will my veins line up with the electric as if i were part of something greater than a body of earth?
in times like these i hear the word aha!
Geronimo calling from the light-bulb, brazenly jumping to enlightenment
a tiny revolution starting in every little thing that can line up with the other
a thousand circuits jump starting and brashly telling me to
step out of the dark
i could use a little time
science phenomena
Rowan Elizabeth Dec 2018
thinking about how the world doesn't really care about you can get really lonely.

but it's also liberating. your soul breathes a sigh of relief, and you can just exist.

it's empowering. you can allow yourself to take up space and own it.

but mostly, it's enlightening. you learn things you never knew you never knew.

you learn how to live.
S Nirmal Kumar Sep 2018
Joyfully flutters a butterfly
Relinquishing mundane desires
Enlightened heart
Aditya Sep 2018
When the world failed to Console,
A Reflection revealed my Soul.
I was Oblivious of where I'd been,
Until I finally looked WITHIN.
Lyn-Purcell Aug 2018
Look long and deep within
yourself and wake your
true potential.
Working on the last chapter of the Gala!
Man, it's been a fun ride but all good
things come to an end! ^-^
Lyn ***
Troy Aug 2018
Death like all things
Are a simple state
Permanent in most
But subtle in others

Eternal peace must be achieved
Before death can be final
A life of wealth and luxury
Can never find peace of mind

Nor can a life of sorrow and misery
Find balance in all things
Life is a path in which to follow
We must choose the right path

Or we suffer eternal damnation
Fighting amongst our brothers
Spouting words of hate
Will never bring one salvation

Words of truth and love
Hope with all things
We attain everlasting peace
For there has to be a balance

Life must come with sorrow
As it also comes with bliss
Abandon all you don’t need
And share upon those who don’t have

Leave not in a state of anguish
But in a state of calmness
Shed the unnecessary
And bring only love

For when these things are at one
We find ultimate truth
Hidden in the mind
For us to truly see
Nika J Jul 2018
If gifts were given opportunities like breath

A hidden agenda would plague the world, take away til nothing left

If presents were placed to live as white doves
Then would the world be placed beneath love?

One outcome, add a few words, polish it and then shoot...
Same meaning, but caressing imagery make it cute

Minds set forth to believe what is said and what is seen

Gorgeous places and people aren't always what they seem...

Taking the fault and ugly, applying a good mask gives what surface seeps

Then when lights go out and shows at end does the truth trully creep.

Judging a book by the cover, its a warning, hide that shallow mind!

If that book was different and appealing the curiosity would shine

But if ugly became a damsel and warriors were weak

Who would step up then? Change the deal, hide the tragedy...?

Has one ever heard "Beauty is in the eye of the beholder?"

But what happens when beauty becomes a soldier?
Something for those who judge books by the cover.
Soul Scribe Apr 2018
Kids have nasty noses with
Dark green hosing out of them.
With no care and rapidly growing hair
They take their mom's hand and wipe their nose bare on her cardigan.

I've always wondered why we don't remember much of our early memories like where did they go?
Maybe these escaping visions used the snot trail as their undernose railroad.
But no mother in her right mind would try to siphon the mucus like fuel.
So the world may never know what lies inside that green drool.
As this child grows taller and learns to plug his nose with a soft lotioned tissue and not his new clothes,
He grows smarter and wiser and begins to compose, poems and prose that flow as the soul.
He writes about and to his grandpa,
Trying to unwrap the wisdom like a present of a thousand layers.
Using his thumb to uncover the thin papers.
Like talking to the curator of the museum of his mind, what was it like at war with the dictator of the time?
Spilling secrets and telling stories of his life when he was 9.

But the stories started to get blurry,
And his grandson started to worry,
He soon learned that his memory was not a guarantee.
His idol's nose had begun to run.
His mum wasn't there to refund the snot,
This is something that can't be undone or fought.

The rapid escape of dreams and thoughts,
as the last drop of snot falls off.
This was written shortly after my grandfather's death. I hope you all enjoy
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