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From the blooming dandelions
That grow in the gardens of the kindred soul
Is a peculiar dream
That with every yellow petal becomes
A wishful fly away
Within its colourless softness
Searching for new soil
To bury itself
And grow

But it’s the insignificant things
That weigh down the petals  
Whenever they gather the willpower
To float towards a horizon
That divides the insecurities
And the biggest fears
Of the one who wished upon them
So instead the petals become rain
That wash away the remnants
Of a scorching sun

And some time after
The water carries with it
The seed of the dandelion
And along a distant road
It grows once again
Waiting for another
To come set it free
So that it can carry those old ambitions
Back to one who’s still searching for  courage
Along the horizon in their dreams
Gorba 19h
The wine I am tasting has just been tasted,
The perfume I am smelling has just been smelled,
The song I am hearing has just been heard,
The girl I am seeing has just been seen,
The skin I am touching has just been touched,
The many things I am thinking have just been thought,
These lines I am writing have just been written,
Are we then just living in the immediate past?

If time is relative, can now be extended?
Should we rather think of now as time-limited actions?
I will be drinking this wine until the last drop has sunk
I will be smelling this perfume until my receptors are saturated
I will be hearing this song until the battery lets me down
I will be seeing this girl until she disappears in the wild and out of my mind
I will be touching this skin until I have cramps
I will be thinking until my brain is starving
I will be writing these lines until an elusive timepoint
If these events take several minutes, several hours, or several days,
Is tomorrow then also now?

Can now be stopped?
Suspended, unanimated, just like a broken clock.
At the speed of light time does cease to exist.
Can I then slow now down when I run a sprint?
Now equals present, just like a gift
While present can lead to taking the final lift.
Can now happen when we are not?
Free of life, lying down, some with the precious key to the holy padlock.
Can now (truly) be synchronized when we live on different time-zones?
Different countries, different continents, different rhythms in similar ringtones.

How long is now?
As long as the finite time
Between the moment we’ve left the past
And the moment before we step into the future.
This sticking junction that can never be past.
My face knew tears and trauma,
shadowing my eyes and tightening
my lips too thin to smile,
a walking mask, dedicated
to the moves and words
empty of emotion.

ice in need of a thaw,
it held me rigid and raw,
until the warmth of summer
heated me alive.

now I run beneath the sun,
feeling emotions I thought were gone.
Laughing with joy unbound,
I seem to soar and sing
no longer earthbound,
but like the sprites of
tales told in past times,
I meld with the nature,
and let loose my soul.
She traverses the deepest of canyons
And does without help from companions
One might say this is supremacy abound
That this is where bravery is found

She reads and reads through endless nights
And takes her knowledge to great new heights
One might say this is where power comes
That the wise ones shall never succumb

She opens her heart to all she sees
Her smile as soft as the wafting breeze
One might say this is mastery galore
That this is what everyone adores

She goes step by step all the way
The hardest burdens can’t make her sway
One might so this is profuse resolve
The answer to the question none could solve

So which of them holds the brightest light?
Who carries the ultimate might?
But our abilities need not be aligned
For there’s no truth to how strength is defined

— OrcasTogether
:) A valuable lesson.
Under the bow
of a failing nebula
floats a time capsule
full of unused bandwidth
and disappearing summers

Swimming-pool eyes
they're in remission
discovering Columbus
on the starboard side
of this standard suburban saltbox

Fragility and risk is this
cosmic companionship
rowing to latitude
through dark matter
seiche or refracted

The oncoming tide
will mean a migration of steep passages
"though shiny, sculpted pebbles
spoke of frequent waves
the sea was docile that day"
Inspired by the poem "in love with to the north sea (swinburne)" by fellow HP writer, beth fwoah dream stclair.
I gave my heart away,
little pieces at a time,
in exchange for warm smiles,
lingering touches, and eyes
of the clear sea.
I sealed them up each time,
postmarked and clearly written,
delivered safe to your hands
each time.
But in your careless state,
the pieces slipped through,
falling from your fingers
to smash on the ground,
an unforgiving rendez-vous.

Those fragments are lost to me,
trampled underfoot by those
uncaring souls who do not know
the torments and trials of my
worn-out heart.

In their place is barbed wire,
ominous and spiky with its
“go away” signs,
protecting the last of my heart,
an endangered species,
running out of time.
(a collaboration with Mark S)

Change is here, yes it is
I can feel it everywhere
You can go now, as you please
Love still lingers in the air

Try to hold on to your dreams
And remember your own vow
It's not that hard as it seems
Even stars for you will bow

Make a stand and show your smile
To everyone you see
Head held high in your own style
Be who you’ve longed to be

The world is yours to come and take
To sort and rearrange
A dynasty for you to make
Amidst the constant change

Love the flowers that you see
Let the wind caress your face
You are where you're supposed to be
As where you stand it is your place!

You hold the future in your hand
This life can be the greatest view
It’s time for you to understand
Start right now, it’s up to you
It was a real pleasure to write this one in collaboration with one of the most talented poets, here on HP!
The song on loop
and yawn's a constant companion.
The bed invitingly soft and
the worn out cozy blanket.
A half finished cup of Joe
now gone cold
Picking it up not an option
for my lazy limbs,
Sleepish eyes carrying
Stone heavy eyelids
A caffeinated brain
Intoxicated with futuristic ideas'
Streams of probability
And possibilities
Running with Infinite paradoxes
The two eternal repellents'
Bookand iphone
Depicting angel and satan
One on each shoulders
Playing cold wars like
****** and Englishmen
With the hour of devil on clock
And Jesus on the lips
I slid into the eternity
Of pleasant thoughts
Of how to spend the next day
of my life.
The red wine on the table sits opened and half poured
And next to that sits a barely touched attempt at a cheese board
The floors start creaking loudly beneath our twirling feet
Perfectly matching the sounds of our quickening heart beat
You’re smile morphs into laughter as we stumble about
I can’t find the adequate words to quite figure you out
But you hold my hands tightly as we glide across the floor
I can say with complete certainty this is what life is meant for
mirrors are used to tell you the truth within dreams
their memory goes further back than a day's length
you, the human, are dreaming of eden, an undiscovered maze
the night restlessly sells off her estranged gaze

shadows are flowing through your spinning mind
you see a child, contemplatively engaged in a game
not willing to follow any caring orders; you are glowing
as you are trying to hide yourself under a blanket of knowing

future has decayed, you have to blink, you have to smile
a century's crippled hands are grabbing at your truncated tongue
not even words, terms, speech and language remain
while rain is dripping from leaves, leaving its stain

asleep, you taste the bitter broth of your dream
the gods of the woods are coming for you, in amusement
the dog of voices is barking at his shadow; you are burping
while you hear the muzzle of your dream delightfully slurping
Today is a good day.
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