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Her prowling gaze strikes
Heart lungs brain electrified
Energy for miles
- David Cunha
april 18, 2025
0:30 a.m.
Wind carries whispers arrayed,
But never is it screaming.
The wisp that calls, lives betrayed,
Unheard is its true meaning.

Bound to its fateful flowing forever.
Its flowing has never failed.
A sacred truth is buried within.
Within what? It never can tell.

Mountainous structures stand strong,
These relics are deemed eternal,
As time passes, the layers form masses.
They keep record of nature’s journal.

The bitter truth is etched in stone.
Carved deep in their being,
Yet tethered to fate, to constantly wait.
Cursed with never leaving.

Like the ocean’s mighty sway,
That never truly moves.
Seemingly more boundless than me,
It's built to traverse in set grooves.

Violent waves displaying a mask,
For It rises only to recoil.
An infinite realm of life contained,
To never feel the soil.

The sun will rise, set, then rise.
A fate with no fate at all.
It treads a path to live and last,
It will not and can never fall.

It soars above, an ode freedom,
Yet a slave to this deception,
For in its path, it’s truly shackled,
To this common misconception.

The grand clock's, a steady unwinding,
That's never completely unwound.
Delaying or pausing is not an option,
Losing every minute it passes.

The hands of time that hold the scroll,
Unallowed to write its own plot,
Emotions within its constant tick tock,
Expressing a purpose that's wrought.

As metaphysical body's walk.
They think, they feel, the react.
Emotions lay open, demand to be spoken,
As our minds expand to retract.

My conscious holds a truth, untrue.
For a lie is so deeply instilled.
We breathe to consume, from cradle to tomb,
In this cage that we've named "Free Will."
Nehal Mar 25
When the earth celebrates
        a solar year,
The cost of life whispers
        in my ear.
It rose up, the easy act
        won't backup.
The easiness of faceless
        is being asked,
"What is it the result?" I ask.
It's easy for people to leave.
It's easy to be devalued.
It's easy for mind to linger past.
It's easy to reminisce moments,
Cherished memories— yet to be
         closed as a chapter.
It's paradoxical—they face the same.
"What is it the result?" I ask.
It's paradoxical—they feel the same.
Tamara Walker Mar 25
When all eyes turn to nature
When all hearts brush the trees
Whisper into the leaves

When all feet steps the grass
When all hands grasps the seeds
Speak into the trees

When all lips breathe the wind
When all bodies swamp the waves
Shout into the sea
MetaVerse Mar 22

The Honey Bee

Little buzzing Honey Bee,
Honey sweetens me and thee.
Thou art busy all the Day;
Busy Bee, thy Wings are gay.

Flowers bloom and showers fall;
Spring is springing over All.
Thou shalt work till Daylight's end.
Golden Bee, thou art my friend!


The Beekeeper

Little buzzing Honey Bee,
Thou dost make my Gold for me.
Labour, Bee, because thy toil
Buys my meat and drink and oil.

Thou art mine: what thou dost make,
Slave! to Market I shall take.
Mine the Bee and mine the Earth,
Mine by Right of Human birth.
Compare to songs of innocence and experience by Blake and Watts.
Aaron Beedle Mar 17
Horizon of heard words bring
feelings
new and relieving
receiving
messages from myself
to be passed to someone else.

Like birth I breathe my
first lesson
in learning a new obsession.
A whole new world
completed by curiosity
and only in generosity of voice
was I shown the choice we each make
to hide and to fake
to fear that we are
no more than animals with complex speech
and we reach desperately to find
some notion that we are tools
but in truth we are without rules
and can experience as much as we are willing to believe.
About: I'm not sure. Let me know if you work it out.
Denisa Mar 15
Tied around me hands binded,
Ecstasy and soul merging
Merging into tightness
Tightness there like the fear of insanity
It wont let go, they wont let go
Please let go

On the floor of a box inside my mental ward of fear
I liked being lusted but this scares me dear
Out from breast and neck flows red
And im convincing myself im a flower gently opened,
But u maul flesh with no token yet
Lungless u hold the red rope
Please let go

U love me dont u love me u must if u hurt me?
Enclosured no exposure to the truth
Selfishly u took all my youth
Even moonlight cant brighten you
My organs are all over its glow
Orange and salt and red rope and you
Oh may this rope frey!
Am i at fault for being ur prey?


I am free
Am i free? The box is now gone
And now the orange is also gone!
But flesh no longer mingles with its own blood
Its red rope and poison
All covered up
Poem on abuse and manipulation and its effects on a person.
solEmn oaSis Feb 28
I may not know it ,
Until untitled Poet ...
felt Guilt the first end !
Me myself and i
Sudzedrebel Feb 15
It's intelligence that's 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨,
Emotion 𝘢𝘥𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨?
Is logic 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨?
But no, you;
You're all three.
𝘚𝘶𝘳𝘦, 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘺; 𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘺,
That's why everything
Seems so confusing,
Right?
Or have they left?
Were they ever there to begin with?
Jayme Feb 9
I've grown accustomed to loss,
Felt it in ways I never imagined
Opportunities slipping away,
Loved ones fading into memory,
Moments I can never reclaim.
I've lost so much
That I've learned to live in the now,
To hold on tightly,
To cherish what remains.
Each loss has left me with lessons,
Fragments of wisdom I never asked for.
But is losing truly a loss
When it leaves behind so much wisdom?
Still, no matter how much I learn,
It always hurts.
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