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M Solav Apr 2022
I set myself a reminder
For all the times that I err
So that I may always remember
That I am but a prisoner

Delusions are my prison cell
And questions are the key
Yet the gates seem endless
On the corridor to reality.
Written on July 27th, 2019.

— Copyright © M. Solav —

This work may not be used in entirety or in part without the prior approval of its author. Please contact for usage requests. Thank you.
Karijinbba Jul 2021
~ lover poet friend~
Do with us as you please
~RD for angel K~
You aligned us but we the lovers turn the keys to accept or decline even our frantic tantric joy where we rhyme.

For too long I shot my doors fearing flinching distance will have the last laugh.
then came my love RD
and I can touch Raj places
no one can and he
Mine that much more.

  I am over being out of time  
Not taking more blows
I exude security confidence power value my yes and nos are good I am myself

If you must to her go who
waits for her younger half
green needing wear, Go.
And you keep your love and Angel K me on hold;?
I rather keep your sword
And Z dagger in hearts orb.
The cosmos needs nothing
Why should I? I showed you how my journey can prosper us both and our family!

not you and ur other Z.
We mirrored each other searching for long lost lovers yet all you see is distance.
And your Z.
There are so many songs to play many lovely little things to live for yours and mine.

Remember make up your mind for our gates to open up your tiny window z must close-respect my freedom of speech.
My love and feelings matter
Yours matter more to me.

We are at crossroads
I've been here before
Dignity whispers
I am disciplined in the art of love and boundaries.
I ain't door mat for lovers rainny days.
By Karijinbba.
Davina E Solomon Apr 2021
And the knowledge of the hedgerow plant, I found embedded in leaf veins ... like in mine, etched along blue lines of a notebook. In the ripples on the remnants of water that pooled, before the mudflats claimed them are the striations of  ol'butot near  Naivasha. His stories tell of caves, a gleaming obsidian of a pre historic introspection. Do forty day fasts suffice to exorcise the springs of sulphur or the forced baptism of a flash flood washing six souls to Hades ? The sun glinted at me through a narrowness of fate, a gorge of interminable seconds and I marvelled at the strata of time in a warp, for it blurted out a moan.

Love spoke in nuanced layers of molten flow that crawled to stillness. Can I not say that stone speaks? A couple of hundred years back in time, self titled discoverers  had seen land that had not been unseen by the thousands who lived for thousands until then. So yes, the strata spoke to me, like the striations in the leaves and the lines that were everywhere telling stories of interminable seconds. Time grooves like a death valley in an engraving, etched like a memory of that which has never been, ripples on sand, circles on water,
Anything can trigger a poem, this one dominoed into Hell’s Gate Park in Kenya. Down below, a random photo I took inside, a few years earlier. It was strange, there was hardly anyone there that day, except the hot sun and a tiny array of grassland herbivores.

“A sparse region of natural beauty, Hell’s Gate runs west of the ancient lava flows of Mount Longonot, a 9,111-foot-high extinct volcano dominating Lake Naivasha and the Rift Valley. Combined with Longonot and Naivasha, the region forms a unique sanctuary for bird and animal life. It has been a longtime favorite of hikers, rock climbers, and nature lovers” [Ref~]
At night, against the pulsing embryonic black which could
Squeeze any number of untold horrors from it’s voided heft,
There sits a door; bright searchlights unmoving, having forever
Ago found and revealed the menacing target of their feverish hunt.
The lights, beacons of vision and revelation stay still,
Afraid to ever lift their gaze from the door.

The door; a crimson sentinel of conformity’s’ demands. A gate
To a finite space of infinite secluded terrors. It’s mocking facade,
Not the true foundation of the haunting visage, but it’s chosen
Illumination against the choking nothingness around it.
There is nothing else but it, and if the lights lose
Their oppressive gleaming, there will be nothing.

Would it not be better for the deep to win the ever waging war
Against our struggles to find hints of sight and recognition?
If the door were to vanish from the othering out there,
then it would be impossible to not turn inward. A forced reflection,
a mirror that’s presence is known, existence felt, but is unseen,
only available when the absence is absolute.

Nonplussed, the bastion remains, a gravity well pulsing
In and out the night, as if the darkness centered around
Maintaining the illusion of safety from knowing ourselves.
Do not be afraid, you will not be forsaken or alone with anything
Other than the beating of your quickened pulse, the edges
Of your vision shrinking until all that you are

Is mirrored in that crimson sentinel.
Sometimes even the simplest things can sometimes a sense of uneasy dread
Ashlyn Yoshida Mar 2021
We've locked ourselves
in rooms of steel
created safe places
designed like prison cells
everyone says there is no way
to escape
without someone to call out our name
and no way to be free
without a light to guide us through the maze

But it will always have to be our feet
that takes us through this hell
And our own eyes
that will lead us well

Relying on others to help you is wrong
a delusion taught to you
through poems, stories, and songs
It will only be you and your willingness to heal
But that does not mean you have to walk alone
to break down all your seals

Stop this searching for that 'one true love'
the more you look
the further your real goals will become
to truly love another
is to forgive and mend yourself
because resenting your actions
only hurts everyone else
you do not love if you hurt and hate
it will only be your hands
that opens your heart's gate.

True love takes work
true love takes time
it only comes across your heart
when you work hard to be of sound mind
But what would I know?
I'm only sixteen

what experience would I have gone through
to really know what that love means?
Be kind, be gentle, be the silent strength inside.
Be a stream that leads to a river.
Chad Young Dec 2020
O silver and black knight of the forest,
what goal have you taken up for the castle?
"I seek to slay with my beauty only..."
"Slay those cries and moans from lonely damsels."

"What business does an evil eye have in the land
of purity and repose?"
"I have many good deeds fine guardian."
"Then enter secure, but let no evil in, or you will be cast
"You have no business here until your
wicked deeds are paid for, get out!"

"Hey, that's okay," a fair damsel
allows me to part from my solitude.
Put on the sandy veil of partnership, for the spirit has
reached into the divine female and divine male.
Let those chakras make a transpersonal point,
but sacral business is all I see.
Maidens forever young.

It seems an eunich has breached our display.
But are we allowed back into the land of purity and repose?
It seems the true goal of a babe's heart
at the lap of his mother has entered the lair.

Now is the fair damsel taken to the merciless judge.

Now is a beautiful friend, waiting all this
time, to exchange a breeze
of heartfelt love.
****** purity is sought after, yet
there is no place to hide a ****.

Light no longer is transferred from the 8th dimension.
The male/female chakras above the crown open up again
for sacral play.
The sattvic essence remains,
and I am held dearly at this party.

The children outlast me during the night.

I enter through a circular gate of pastel crystal petals
into a deck of superstrength beings
of all colors.
A female face is grafted to mine.
She puts on silver and black armor
and the walls are crimson.
Meditation in front of a mirror and inside my pyramid made of clothes hangers.
Veritia Venandi Aug 2020
I will ever wait for you by the gate...
Just to see you returning home to my arms...

And even if the ravages of time... Leaves the gate creaky and rusted...

My love for you will ever remain untouched, unrusted-
Covered in a thousand layers of paint!
Just random!
Thank you for reading! ❣
Maria Mitea Aug 2020
I slept and dreamed that life is joy.
I awake and saw that life is service.

I acted and behold,
service was joy.

who wants to do good knocks at the gate;
who loves finds the gate opened.
From “ Ancient Wisdom “ ...
Star BG Aug 2020
Lions gate
Expand so great
Feel you fate

Feet alate
Move, create      

Conquer hate
Dance gyrate

lift your weight
Peaceful state
Love checkmate

Find soul mate
Take life bait
graceful gait

8/8 l

8/8heart inflate
light spate
forgiveness trait

8/8 meditate
feel first rate
Happy 8/8 all. mIts a powerful gateway to expand the self and align with energies of creation.
Qweyku Jun 2020
Deception sought to beckon in the shadows,
But the wind carried the gentle lips of Wisdom,


“...only fools believe in the trickery of darkness.”

Such a fragile bridge
From dusk to dawn today
Its moorings & way too narrow,
The fingers of the heart
clinging to deceit.

Set the dew of diligence at the gate
Like the flaming sword of Eden!
Forbidding fear ingress, but
Thoroughfare to the Comely Trio;

Righteousness, Peace & Joy!

Permit the Spirit of His Kingdom
Wholly reign within.

© Qwey.ku
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