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Jaxey Sep 2019
Not
Plucking the sun from the sky
Is not a sunset

Pulling a leaf from a tree
Is not autumn

Pushing me off a cliff
Doesn't mean I'm falling for you

And kissing me
Doesn't mean I love you
You can't force it
LC Aug 2019
the glass dome felt safe
the outside world
couldn't get in.
she could see
that outside world.
she never wanted it
until she noticed
the first crack in the dome.
she sat and watched.
after seeing more cracks,
she touched the dome.
the touches increased in force
until everyone heard
her sharp elbows
pounding on the glass.
she grew stronger
until, finally,
she broke the dome.
she's free now.
this is what I'm trying to do now - become my own person without other people's opinions forming a seemingly impenetrable glass dome around me.
Carl D'Souza Jul 2019
When I try to control
people and things
with power
and forceful measures
I experience frustration, sorrow and suffering.

When I accept
the situations Destiny has brought me,
and strive to discover opportunities
to be joyful and happy
within these situations,
and strive to discover opportunities
to improve these situations
to increase my joy and happiness,
then I experience joy and happiness.
Sabila Siddiqui Jul 2019
I try to defy my mental block,
I scrape my head,
becoming harsher on myself
as I force emotions to be penned
into words.
But all what comes is
incoherent, inadequate,
dots and strokes.

The words are fleeting,
they've lost their meaning.
Out of synch,
out of thought,
out of ink.

Writer's block,
is where I sink.
Meghan Jul 2019
Music requires conflict
Confrontation
Force

Without the friction between a bow and strings,
A violin would simply be an ornament
An empty wooden box full of untapped potential
Surrounded by dust and dead air

Like electricity jolting through a motionless heart
Without the collision of mallets or sticks with the smooth skin of a drum,
There would be no resulting thunderclap
No rhythmic pulse
No heartbeat
No life
There would just be the steady tone of a flatline
The deafening ring of absence

Without the force of fingers on keys
No sound could be unlocked by a piano
The black and white shards of a scale would not dance up and down in delight
Like a happy puppet connected by strings to the master of its voice

Though appealing,
Passive peace alone will not result
In the ripple of sound waves that travels across an ocean of air
To reach our ears and our hearts
That moves us and molds us
Into more than we once were

The laws of physics
Say that sound can’t come from silence
Not without a catalyst
An equivalent input
Kinetic energy for sound energy
An alchemy of the soul

Music is the echo of our emotion
Our motivation
Without it there is only emptiness
M Solav Jul 2019
There is form. And there is force.
Lightning blazes the sky with frightening might
Which bursts and dissipates in arteries of light
How it animates the living,
With its thundering displays!
How it penetrates us with awe,
And fills darkness with stories
And that is what we call the Force.

There is form. And there is force.
Gushes of wind brush the once austere surface
Which rises and resonates in hills that interlace
How it fuels our imagination
With its frenetic waltz!
How hypnotic its furious motion
And the flow of its assaults
And that is what we call the Force.

There is form. And there is force.
Mountains spring from seas and glide down the coast
Which is where we have crawled and now thrive the most
How it shapes the current world
With us barely noticing!
How volatile all our endeavors
And at the mercy of its whim.
And that is what we call the Force.
Written in June 2019 - for an exhibition in Peking.


— Copyright © M. Solav —
www.msolav.com

This work may not be used in entirety or in part without the prior approval of its author. Please contact marsolav@outlook.com for usage requests. Thank you.
__________
Josh Jul 2019
My failings are justified
Ghosting your presence
Love me once meant life
Kindred lips part ways
Varied volume waves your force
Happiness used to be your metaphor for me
Climbing down now
Grounded grinding and generous
Dominique Jun 2019
Physics acts on every one
Of the baffled little parts of me;
Gravity refuses to leave,
Drags my eyelids down to active sleep
(I chase after life in each scene)

And in the morning, right outside,
I fail to hide from the hands of the sun
Its filthy fingers pressed to my skin
Letting the heatrays in so easily
You'd think I was a plant.

(I need it as much as if I were green,
It turns my fears golden
And lights my eyes clean.)

Eager to grab control
From my little follower who rules it all
I pull muscles and harvest bruises-

Newton's third law, impact and force,
Of course:
Heads against shoulders,
Leather and walls,
Thighs against doors,
Lips on lips and disappointed synapses
That serotonin can't quite reach.

If I am blood,
Fresh experience is bleach.
(A dark little figure of speech)

But I light candles sometimes
Just to blow out the feathery flame
To feel temporary, precious
Like rosy musk enhanced by rain
And fill up the tightest corners in my mind.

Life, in the end, is stupidly kind.

And in the evening light, she and I remain,
The world entangled in my limbs,
Breathing in, and out

And in.
title translates to "not alone"
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