Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Are there any words which capture wisdom?
Grief of Prophets.
Are there any words which speak enlightenment's prose?
Are there any words which tell of an artist's hopelessness?
Time: the comparison between two differing things.

Only age can gain age's beauty.
Only in time can tell the artist's proficiency.
Wishing to write a poem.
There will be dancing
On that joyous occasion
That moment
When I just
There will almost certainly be dancing
Of the body
Of the spirit
In that moment
When I breathe
When the clock stops ticking
When I quit keeping score
When there is no "more"
Or "next"
Or "because"
When there just
For more poetry and essays, follow my blog on Medium at
Thanks for reading!
Luiz Sep 15
I have never met
an accomplished person
that has not lived  
through a broken heart

love lost is the rite of passage
to enlightenment
Traveler Sep 13
Surviving in a prison cell
I learn to stand behind myself
Witnessing this hell I dream

We sleep in comfort
As we slumber away our existence
Being a true master takes persistence
Hell I can fall back to sleep in an instant

Aesthetic displays
I get lost in the days
This dream is but a life
The con from beyond
Keeps me going strong
No matter wrong or right
Traveler Tim
Norman Crane Sep 12
hold the match under your chin
unscrew your skull
and pack the kindling in
then strike a flame
inhale the light
your mind will burn so long and bright
Dante Rocío Sep 1
i made a mental note
not so long ago:
i matched the dots
and saw
(or maybe rather “touched”)
that almost all
the books that come
into my life
for a reason,
to change it
and/or stay have
the same wondrous
chosen by me
that i
adore in
a book.

as physical plastic one,
my eyes so deeply that
one/you will feel
nostalgia for something
you’ve never known before
once gazing into them,
a maze,
and in a daze.

second true form
how poetry arrives to
and chooses me!

forms are
all diamond facets,

just so many.
i want to make them,
become me so
in my due now that
will come
by the will of.
“Everything formed a drawing, a handwriting, a sign. Odours sent out their luminous signals from the top of their towers, or from where they lay buried in their secret grottoes.”
~ J. M. G. Le Clézio
Derrick Jones Aug 30
Going with the flow
Yet you do not know
That the flow goes all directions

The natural lines that blind your mind
These barriers of glass
Create channels, rivers, currents
Where the water
The flow
Simply goes

When you are always in the rapids
When your point of view is rabid
Only reacting
Not responding
So swept up in the current
You flail, flounder, following

Yet little do you know
The flow goes all directions
You are never alone
You are a node
You are the ocean
Not a current
You are everything
You’re worth it
You are the moment
You are worship
You are attention pointed out
Barriers are but illusions
Your life is lilting, tilting fusions
But becoming the ocean is not always easy
It’s massive, the motion makes us queasy
Most of the time we are in our own streams
Funneled by barriers as real as our dreams
But funneled nonetheless
Carried away

The process of growth
Is slowly raising yourself out of the stream
Adding moments of response
Instead of reaction
In that act
We find branches
In the stream
And therefore choice
We can paddle
Change our course

The world opens up
We are not the ocean yet
But on our way
As you lift yourself higher
Out of the stream
You do begin to see
The flow goes all directions
Flowing into the sea
Not only are you the ocean
But you are every stream

You float above this aquatic landscape
Coursing rivers like veins across the living earth
And, here is the magical part:
You can choose where to swim

You dive in
You are birthed
This is divinity
Each moment of consciousness
A fateful flux
Between ocean and stream
Between finite and infinite
The macrocosm above
The microcosm below
The cosm in between

You are
The barrier between the mundane and the divine
The band of fluctuation
You are the frame
In which
This artwork unfolds

That is what happens when you can choose
When you lift out of the stream

On one level, you choose the next moment

On another level, you choose any of the infinite realities that your mind can imagine

On yet another, you are consciousness, the great ocean of light
Choosing which point to dive into the universe
Which river to course through

To enter a life of conscious experience
To sing the body electric
Be born and live and die
Be born
From ocean to stream and ocean again

The stream will be your entire experience
While you are underwater

But never forget:
This is Water

David Foster
This is Wallace

Meditation is learning how to swim
To realize this is water
And dryness is within
Then you learn to rise
Float above the water
So high
Then choose your stream
Dive in
Up and down
In and out
Like a dolphin merrily moving through the ocean
A smiling sine wave
Flowing seamlessly, dreamily
No wonder they are smiling
As free as one can be
They are the ocean and the stream
A realization that is probably easy
When one is born under the sea

We are the water in the stream
And the sea
Stretching across infinity
We are the force flowing through the tree
Splitting, branching
Diverging from the whole
But connected at the soul

In actuality
We are fractality
This poem was originally published on Medium with some pictures to accompany it to help illustrate the vision I'm trying to communicate, please check it out if you're interested!
When the sun disappeared behind the darkest veil of clouds...

The light within her still shone to give her way!
Thanks for reading this! :)
When no one notices
not even our own awareness
our branches
persist toward the sun

A rope swing dangles

Ready to hold Love,
to listen to Love,
to feel the embrace of Love,
to give Love a push
and to pull Love back
when it has wandered too far

The wind blows us left
the rain torrents right

Through our boughs
our leaves

letting go

down one
down all
It is astounding, despite circumstances, how strong humans can be.
Derrick Jones Aug 22
Silver speckled specks sprinkle the night sky
Spectacular sparks
Spots of light, flying by

A meteor shower

I stare up at the sight
Lying in a quiet field
The cities light far in the distance
Delighting in the darkness
A portal to another dimension often hidden
Paradoxically, a reality obscured by light
Away from the truth the light reveals
I now relish in the truth of the dark
The view of the night sky
A portal to the past
Yet also to the present

Back supported by the cool, firm earth
My visual field consumed
Filled with infinity
I soon realize
Here, now, in this moment
I have no head

Where my head should be
Is the night sky
Myriad stars and the endless space between

When juxtaposed to infinity
Actual, immeasurable infinity
Even my stubborn ego
Cannot keep up the fight
I dissolve into the night
And each gleaming point of light
Sometimes streaming across so bright
A glorious glint
On a short fated flight
Undertaken anyway
Without even a hint
Of spite

Each ephemeral illumination
Mirrors the spark of creation
The egoic conflagration
This meandering mentation
Of thought
Pure invention
Now caught
My attention
Now an ought
Instead of is

Rumination replaces reality
In between the stars and me
Not physical, still I cannot see
My attention follows helplessly

Infinity recedes
Thought impedes
Advice I do not heed
A voice I do not need

As suddenly as it began, it disappears
The thought vanished, my mind clears
Again I have no head
My bed is the earth
My view is infinite
Each star a blazing hearth
Billions giving birth to light across the galaxy
In this small piece that I can see
I peacefully float
In infinity
No self at all
No head to call my own
I make the world my home
For more poetry and essays, follow my blog on Medium at
Thanks for reading!
Next page