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Ylzm Apr 3
Today is the third Day
Even as everyday is Sabbath
When the Son rose, the world
received the promised Ghost

      First of firstfruit blessed
         day after the Seven
         when it was still dark
      And the kingdom came
         day after Seven Sevens
         yet hidden to this day

For a week, Israel wandered
For a week, bread is unleavened
Evening of the Seventh approaches, fast
But time shall divide, till not one is lost
Derrick Jones Aug 2020
I am a surfer
A peak seeker
Looking for the next crest
The very best
The time better than the rest
The time when the energy
Flows
Grows
Glows

When every neuron in my mind combines and unifies
A grapevine fire
Each power line burns with the surge of electricity
Reconnection without surgery
Neural plasticity
Electric elasticity
In this new configuration
My mind becomes a conflagration
I glow brighter than the sun
My life has just begun
I am infinite
Yet I am one
With all the world
And it’s with me
Wireless
Electricity
Connection
With infinity


That is just the start
I am but a part
Sometimes a spark
A beacon in the dark
But often just a speck
A mote afloat in a dark ocean
And so I search, a shark in motion
I swim
I feel
I open myself to the sea
I see all the possibilities
Rippling with realities
Feeling through the frequencies
I intermingle and interact
Imbibing vibrations to guide exploration
Going with the flow
Until that flow shows me freedom
When I swim in the deep end
With a pool of other motes
Each of us just one note
But when we sing in harmony
There is no beauty quite as free
Each of us ignites
Fire on the water
Glowing oh so bright
Entangled, getting tauter
We connect and intersect
The energy demands respect
The motive is beyond suspect
We live, we die, we resurrect
We flow together
Create a wave
The wave
My favorite
I savor it
I crave for it
I was made for it

Because I am a surfer
I ride this wave
I am this wave
One of many molecules
Sparkling with untold joules
Electrical, aquatic
Our flow so hypnotic
Clean, fresh, non-toxic
Neon, tidal
Unfinished, untitled
Undiminished, unbridled
A perpetual motion
In this vast ocean
Once we were alone
Now we’ve found a home

I sought this peak
And now I summit
Eventually we all plummet
Back down to sea level
And yet I still revel
I unwind in the undertow
Beached when the tide is low
I still bask in the wonder though
Awash in the afterglow
For more poetry and essays, follow my blog on Medium at https://medium.com/words-ideas-thoughts
Thanks for reading!
Sourodeep Oct 2019
Rhythms and beats touch our hearts,
music turns us into believers
as it helps us bear the everyday pain,
In the song we find our prayers,
and the hope remains...
The festival of Durga Puja in India, where we worship the goddess Durga as embodiment of power destroying evil. Hope we are also able to overcome all evil from our world too.
Shantala Kothare Nov 2018
The festive season is here,
And shoppers busy on their feet,
Are looking for bargains
At every corner of the street.

The lantern-sellers stand,
Right outside the market square;
Trying to entice passers
To buy their curious tinsel ware.

If during this time, you chance
Upon this bustling way,
The sparkling lights and lanterns
Are sure to brighten up your day!

Some of the glittering objects,
That decorate the stalls,
Seem to mesmerize the shoppers
As they step into the malls.

Articles of myriad colours
And lanterns that disperse rainbow light
Decorate the city streets
All through the joyous night.

I rushed to the market square
To see what I should buy
And found a brilliant lantern
That caught the fancy of my eye.

I made a quick bargain
And now that lantern adorns my door,
And it really dazzles me
When it mirrors in the floor.
Neelesh Chandola Oct 2017
A child wakes up , to mosquito bites,
and Christ-on-a-bike-it’s-diwali , the fiesta of lights.
the welcome vibes of halcyon tarried
as hugs and gifts and smiles are carried,
and waving her wrinkles mid-air ,daadi
says today! god , to his land was ferried.

Afar, the bronze herald of worship time,
the temple bell goes off in a celestial chime.
and cometh the priest , for the fire-ritual,
line my pockets now , come on , be spiritual.
but duh! your dhoti hast no pockets , saintly dummy;
tsk.. fret ye not , for it goes straight into my tummy.

mid-morning now , and mummy’s high-strung;
‘dust it well and dust it thorough and dust it till you burst a lung’.
‘garam pakode’ !! cries papa in his croaking tenor ,
‘but one by one’ and now he begins with the manners.
mummy is the last one , picking over the bones,
she always has been , for what a family she owns.

A muezzin somewhere cries the holy decree
heads bow down and a pigeon flies free,
from the onion dome , below the staccato claps
‘Ooparwala ! … ‘ the muezzin gasps ,
and ‘Ooparwala!.. ‘ a crowd chants in tow ,
and ‘Oops ! … ‘ the bird sheds it’s something and *****
soars high , and takes a bow .

hey presto! the night has come.
the moonless night of the homecoming lord.
sweetmeats and sugars and syrups and us ,
laddu-barfi , well , that strikes a chord .

Lakshmi , her owl , the glutton god with his mouse ,
revered an’ pleased an’ fed an’ flattered ,
and coaxed never to leave the house
while out there , bombs and crackers burst and batter.

The witch’s hour already , and the man ain’t home yet
the lord is home , to get things straight,
while the men all out on a greedy conquest;
pennies on the dollar , unwavering faith still,
for the beckoning bait .

A child wakes up , to mosquito bites
gone now is the carnival of lights.
a goddess fled , a father bled
a child scrapes off the waxy remains ,
the leftovers of candles ,pains, and no gains.
Damian Murphy Jun 2015
Winter and Spring have long since passed,
cold wind, rain and frost belong in the past,
darkness thankfully no longer descends as fast,
long hot summer days arrive at long last!
Colourful flowers and plants, trees and shrubs
burst forth from hanging baskets, gardens and tubs
outside homes and shops, hotels and pubs;
brightening roadsides, roundabouts, parks and golf clubs.
Exams are over and school is finally done,
children everywhere mad to get out in the sun,
playing outside all day, having such great fun,
warm summer days being enjoyed by almost everyone.
People everywhere outside busy doing something;
weeding, mowing, watering, general gardening;
cleaning cars, washing windows, mending or painting,
or simply sitting out with the neighbours, gossiping!
Time for sunglasses, sun cream, getting a tan,
Wimbeldon, music festivals, holidays to plan,
ice lollies, ninety nines from the ice cream van,
water shortages of course and the annual hose pipe ban!
Time for day trips, sports, to picnic or sunbathe,
for the park or the beach, to swim or just wade,
to get burnt to a crisp or just relax in the shade,
for beer gardens, barbeques as the sun starts to fade!
People making the most of each sunny summer day,
determined to enjoy the sun, lap up every last ray,
each enjoying the summer in their own particular way,
“Long may it last”, people around the country pray!
For not getting a summer seems to be our worst fear,
but thankfully the summer seems to be finally here.
All around the country there is a party atmosphere
such a shame it cannot be like this all through the year!
Pride Ed Nov 2014
Urban Nights, 2009.*

I’ve walked this city and saw such life,
But I regret to say that I didn’t see yours.
Hand in hand, a husband and wife,
Whose open arms swing like those open doors,
In this city where music spoke,
And where stone broke
Under my heels!
Where lights blinked,
And where jewelry clinked.
Such vibrant thrills!
Where the crowds gathered,
And where the cold beer splattered.
A kinetic spill!

And I walked this city.
Saw some birds, who dined on breadcrumbs of pity,
As my lips half-pressed against the glass.
A fog around my mouth and a fog around my heart,
As I saw some kids sitting in a small patch of grass,
Where the city cared enough to remember the flowers blooming
Under these steel and concrete buildings in the dusk, still looming.

And I’ve gathered the sights and sounds of the city at night,
But I don’t have a photograph of you in this dim light,
Where the stars twinkled under handmade pieces of art,
And where the couples from earlier gather
Not yet wishing to depart.

And now I’m sitting in a booth
Feeling alone, although I’m not in this ongoing affair,
With my quick glances back and forth to see that you’re never there.
And while I’m nibbling on my nails and hard bread,
A single thought stays there in my head;
If you’d only knew
This city is dead without you.
Raina Grace Jul 2014
In the depths of tent city
In the tall skinny pines
An electric blue mist
Turns the shadows to lines

The music's distorted
The spirits are bright
And colors are gathering
Contrasting with night

In one of the tents
A blanket-heap lies
Where eyes wide awake
Will miss the sunrise

We're all safe and comfy
Away from the dew
As soft golden sunshine
Comes filtering through

There's magic in the hair
Of a wizard asleep
Where purple is natural
And sunlight is deep

I unzip the doorway
And open it wide
Inhale the fresh air
And go barefoot outside

The people on hammoks
That swing to and fro
Are unlike the clouds
That have places to go

As I watch them sail
Like great wooden ships
My heart leaps up
And flies through my lips

My breath's being stolen
In a most welcome way
As I stand in the mud
And remember that day
Cosmic Railroad.... *mind explodes*
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