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Going with the flow
To show
That you don’t know

Going with the flow
Do show
When you know

Going with the flow
The right is a right and two steps more
Two left feet, know not anymore

Going with the flow
Preach not
Learn your lessons well
Teach by practice
Someone learns it too
J J Sep 27
On again,off and then departing
From homeward sail based in the sky--
I heard the woman gowned in all phantom white
Wandering the gardeny streets,
Her barefooted steps concussing the concrete.

She walked beside me and watched as I trembled
With her eyes that windowed memories in the same way
A camera captures a scene or a seashell a slice of the ocean
And I never think to ask the whole story.

Her lips permanently signal silence,
Her skin porcelain like her nails and teeth
   And when she speaks,it's in a lilt so light it sparks your bones.

'Do you think it should rain later this morning?'
As relayed,my bones spark and my heart edges closer
To my throat. 'The sky is static-grey and gloomy as is'
She replied 'yes, but some rain would give it some character'

We spent the remaining wander without a word
   Then the woman dissapeared. On my way home
I felt droplets bite through the fabric of my shoes
    And I suppose the woman got her answer.
Sunny white morning brushed through the bushy clouds.
Bede Sep 25
I nary wish to hide my penned
And quoted phrases, hidden in
My nonsensical rhymes, symbolic speech
No, I shall not let my words beseech

The sanctity of openness,
The sacred land of free excess,
My page, my land, looked for with care
Where I may lay my feelings bare.

Bring forth the peering eyes, behold!
A treasury of stories told
Within the madman's wealthy rhymes,
Looking forward, or back in times.

My heart is free, my soul unhinged,
My mind consumed by thoughts less grim.
All thanks to the Muse's daughter, sweet,
Within my mind, fear I defeat.
Happy Poetry done my way
Heart races and
my chambers expand. Eternal
drumming of my life.
It slips my mind how sometimes
the beating of time gets

And I breathe, aware of my sensations,
a connoisseur of myself. Los Pensamientos
son uno, and I can become the
version of myself I aspire to be.
practicing introspection
I cut a peep hole in space,
Enough to squeeze my fingers through.
I pull it open and wrap its fabric around me,
To gain a better view.

Feeling the stars rotate around my center point,
A cosmic spider’s web stretching out infinitely.
Scaling the web like morning dew.
The stars beat in rhythmic poetry.
I sing to them and they sing to me,
We are all singing in harmony.

It is all balanced and perfect,
Sway to the music.

Sorting to find it in the storm.
Be an instrument in its hands,
Sing its melody through your chords,
Let the sound fill your center,
Let it bounce around and out of you,
To touch the hearts and minds around you.

Is this separate or is this my reflection?
In everything I see myself,
Echoing through the gaps between particles of inner space,
Staring right at God’s face.

The universe is singing to me.
That old sweet melody.
Sway to the rhythm of the music,
Let it pass through body, mind and spirit!

Accept this holy gift and sway to the music!

I can hear the hum of Saturn,
Resonating within me.
The stars they sing out,
Verses of a remedy.

I am,
An instrument,
In its hands.
Sway to,
The music,
In its hands.

Sway to the music,
Witness every in-between scenes behind the moment!
Grace Haak Sep 4
dissolved into a spellbound state

to realms that were once beyond reach

And Like
unanticipated spaceflight

light upsurge, pumps inwards then out

in its race within the bloodstream

through you, through me, Straight from heaven
Axxsh Sep 2
like bricks in a wall
we fall under the category of Filling the columns.

*like a cry from a mortal
who writes letters to get his words in place
so i send 'em through a time portal
as he lives in a different age,
making my piece immortal.
resuscitating minds in their conclusive days*/

the way to my sanctorum
filling the void, in place by the devastation caused by your ammunition.
a threat to the decorum(of the living world)
//all the universe's spheres combined
still wouldn't fit the diametre of the iris in my eyes\
when i see through you
see THROUGH your mask you
put on to remove the pollution
purifies the skin
and leaves you with
white and glowing
insecurities and commotion.

people flew with the notion
selling their psych in portions
if i would've bought it
then they would've called it
profit in oceans.
Every year you grew more insensitive
and called it promotion.
through the strands of your hair
i see a clock
with each of its hands facing the opposite of one another
as dynamic as the hues of your face
but in the center.. have the same colour
a ***** of your nail in my back causes
the epiphany to rupture,
so either im too much into hating you
or half past the other.
2 seperate pieces...for some unexplored cant be presented without the other, in my mind. doesn't really make sense...doesn't have to.
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