Igorgoldkind Feb 11
Own What You Own

Learn to recognize your own history.  
Like the grass before a scythe
Murder is after all
A sort of suicide.
The sacrifice of someone else's self.

Like the granting of a favour
For the sake of your own insecurity.
Or out of  jealousy for what we covet
From those in whom we can no longer recognize,
The better part of our selves.

~ Igor Goldkind

HTR Stevens Feb 9
Like a drop in the ocean,
Like a grain of sand,
So is the comparison
Of the world to man.

A golden ray from the sun,
A leaf from a tree,
As joy to a child means fun
I wish to be free.

A poet can’t do justice
Just with words alone
Describing an inner peace
That has quickly flown.

What is Truth – that we all seek?
The answer – who knows?
Where there’s the strong, there’s the weak;
Only a fool crows.

Where there is good, there’s evil;
Where there’s wrong, there’s right;
Our minds create the devil
Whom we fear to fight.

The world is a looking-glass:
Reflections of life;
To be enlightened we must
Give up worldly strife.

Who has stepped out of our world
Tho’ still within it?
The Truth is universal
When the fire is lit.

Our eyes to nature open:
All are relative;
We spy a glimpse of heaven
As each day we live.
As I now rise
to start life's sleep
I pray the Lord
my truth to keep.
Working each day
until I'm dust
I've yet to learn
just why I must.
My mind might soon
remember why,
if I should wake
before I die.
Max McGrath Jan 24
I walked upon the sunny shore, on an afternoon in April 10th.
It's always that happy, joyful mood there.
People, animals, even the vehicles.
The horizon looked beautiful, the sand was beautiful.
I sat down on the beach, listening to the raging ocean and looking,
Looking at it dwell upon my toes, my feet.
And I kept thinking.
A silence.
Inevitably watching over the sunset. Over the rotation of the earth.
That evening, no one was around to sing songs about love or anything else.
No one was there to walk his or her dog.
I sat there, alone.
And I kept thinking.
A wave of voices.
A shadow full of thoughts.
A body full of doubts.
A hand filled with determination.
And the horizon.
Filled with stars.
I slowly walked through the starry horizon on an evening in April 10th.
I stumbled upon a pile of rocks, I picked them up, I looked at it.
And I kept thinking.
I can't destroy it.
I don't know how or even why are they here.
Watching over the floating things above the sky.
An airplane flashing its lights.
The purple-ish clouds of stars above.
As I closed my eyes. Listening.

I woke up with sand on my face at April 11th.
Written at 43.
Allison Jan 17
I dreamt that gravity
was just a conspiracy
to sell us shoes
but we never questioned it
just stood, penniless on blistered feet
gazing at the stars

Rage, riot-
wage war against the mind-cage

I dreamt I was an infant
who never learned
that my outstretched hands
were mine, were 'I,'
they tried to bathe me but
I swirled down the drain
and became the sea

Wail, weep-
sell your soul to the keeper of the mind-cage

I awoke with this migraine
shook my head and
heard the shackles clink
reached up and felt
this fissure in my skull
pried it open, watched my mind sigh
and expand to fill this space

Grow quiet, shake hands-
have a cup of tea with the mind-cage

Now I am creation
took the roof off my house
I waft into the open sky
opened my heart
clowns from a clown car
the sorrows walked out

Embrace, make peace-
just be with the mind-cage

Weightless, I meet my old desires
fluffy little wishes floating in the breeze
but there is nothing lacking now
I hold the mind-cage in my arms
we float as it screams
and blames, and fades

Slither, creep-
escape through the open bars

Come home to this joy
Twelve Jan 16
The nights drags on
Lost in my thoughts
Listen to lofi songs
The mind is a healthy fruit till it rots
I lay here awake
Thinking of everything
Every possible mistake
About my future and and my past really just anything
The night fills my head with hopes and dreams
Wheres the knowlege that I lack
Is it hidden in time with bigger and better things?
I'm on a knowlege train trynna get on track
Picking up all the peices of my life
Trynna not to get bitter but better
Hoping to put together something right
Its time I switch around those letters
All I got is all I need
I'm only human
I'll always bruise and Ill always bleed
Imma changed man
With a PEACE of mind
And all this came
From a restless night....
I have to remember that life does not work this way. the universe does not play toward my favor.

I have moments where I do not think at all. no information is exchanged, no neurons fire.

yet I find myself in these moods of brief clarity, a strange sort of enlightenment where I seek out my poetic justice.

I acknowledge my prophetic nature. but in the end the words have no meaning, and I am left as empty as before. I lack purpose. drive. skill. knowledge. talent.

I am a lost soul, but I take that as a romantic notion.

there is beauty in my downward spiral, because it is a geometric form, and it has been said that geometry connects man to the cosmos.

if one uses geometry as an means to produce and organize order out of chaos, we can connect to the cosmos and become one with the universe.
April 22nd, 2013

I honestly have no idea what I was thinking when I wrote this.

just a brief flash of clarity, before it was lost in the abyss.
Knowledge is power
And is as beautiful as the sea,
And in a few hours
You can learn your abc's,

In an ocean full of treasure
Not everyone finds the key
Only ones that possess a book
Has the key to climbing a successful tree,

Books are an enlightenment
More powerful than any weapon,
They enlighten the soul
And open the gates to heaven,

The best adventures found
Are locked in various books
Where the letters form words
And doors finally unhook.
When the chest grips,
When the breath gets shallow,
When the jaw tightens,
When life casts a shadow,
That’s the time, my dear, to take rest.
To hear the soul sing a song of disharmony,
Of climbing a tall peak, of swimming upstream.
The clenching, the closing, is oh so seductive!
It’s familiar, we know it,
It’s validates our need to protect and own it.
And the only way through is the moment of pause,
The moment we remind ourselves what this unenlightenment does,
That separating and severing only tightens the grip further.
That the way to melt the protective armor is to invite it to dinner.
In stillness we find a way to come back,
A way to relax, rest, acknowledge the stack,
Of layers, of self, of needs, of love.
It’s in this vessel, we have the courage to open and be hugged.
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