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Keerthi Kishor Jul 2019
Today I woke up
dead.
But tomorrow I want to
go back to sleep  
living.
Currently dangling on the rope living to die & dying to live.
Uka Nov 2019
Most days don’t end with less energy;
Half meant for gathering, collecting vague trifled tasks, or conclusive unwinding.
Henceforth; this day will be on such a category, different from exclaimed, for the time being.
As I have bogged my head down chiefly; I hesitate.
Coasting on a poor diet and alcohol, the air felt layered, entwined with a mild cold.
Only passing when the breakage through season sickened branches grant be.
So forwardly put that they could do a better job. I’ve stood long enough.
Locking my fingers taunt together to reassure them with warmth.
The pacing motion began at once; Not that this was intentional.
Although, my blood provided the temporary motivation to continue on.
Now walking away came to mind.
Past all the Nightfolk that watch their windows; waiting for streetlamps to show curfew.
Not for a person such as myself to worry upon now. So I press home.
Maybe with less energy, but at least another daunting stress done.
This day had been gracious with its hours alive.
Native Intuition Nov 2019
But how do I tell you about the things I've seen?
From the most haunting and daunting
To the very fabric of dreams

I've experienced love beyond measure
Traveled the world to hold it in my hands
I lost myself seeking that foreign treasure
and returned home a different man

Moonlit dinners on Italian cobblestone streets
Ludovico Einaudi providing the symphony
I've climbed mountains in The Alps
Drank straight from the snow melt streams
I witnessed the Black Wolf of Val Duron
and kissed a Goddess on those mountain peaks

I've stood shoulder to shoulder
with ancient warriors carved in stone
I looked them directly in the eyes
and felt an honest worthiness in my bones

I've laid on the beaches of paradise
been cleansed by the waters of the Aegean Sea
Slovenia, Austria, Greece and Italy
I can no longer recall who I used to be

Synagogues, churches, temples and sacred places
but all I seem to remember is how beautiful her face is

Like a collision of galaxies
Moving far too fast to ever coexist
We changed each other's world
and kept moving through the eclipse

From the Earth that inward pulls
Like the song of the last wild wolves
For the optimal experience - Play Ludovico Einaudi's "Experience" while reading at a slower pace.
Mark Nov 2019
Sometimes I wish I was a spirit.

I would be able to drift:
From place to place,
Person to person,
Event to event.

I would be able
To visit
Anywhere.
Everywhere.
Past, present, future.

Memorable and
Forgettable alike.

I would be able to witness
The creation
And the
Destruction
That humanity has
Inflicted and gifted
Its earthly palette.

I would be able to see
All the beautiful people,
And their beautiful smiles.

Every single one of them.

Everyone would be beautiful;
For I would not
Have an eye
Through which
To behold them.

I would be able to
Absorb moments
Without corrupting them
With my presence.

I would be able
To condense
Everything
And
Nothing
Into a droplet
I could drink
Forever.
A colorless, eye-shaped smoke in the sky is my eyes,
That, instead of seeing, creates new skies,
New ground, and on it a new population.


None can be sure about my subjective realisation,
But what I see is more like a simplification
Of a horribly bad-mad world.


I myself am not sure how the colours are whirled;
The colours of dream- and under-world
As clothes in a washing machine.


Myself is supposed to whirl inside that machine,
Among the instinctive desires and unclean,
Inherited demands.


While my true existence that no one understands
Is beyond those dark-coloured commands,
Just dwelling for observation.
01.07.2019
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