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Alex Courrier Nov 2015
This purpose I seek
Continues to elude me
All I can hear is the words
From foreign mouths
Compliments, accomplishments
But still satisfaction is far from close

Goals tossed aside
Like flood damaged novels
Except for one
Dusty, old, and unachieved
One from my childhood
Tucked away for safe keeping
Inside the hidden nook of my mind

One day, I will find a person
A person whose mind reacts
Perfectly with mine

So my journey begins anew,
But misleading pursuits led me
Far from where I needed to venture
Years it’s been, but I found a new path
One that I thought would lead me
To a delicate spring, peaceful and joyous
I still don’t know if this path is the right one
However, I continue with my hopes held high

10 miles in, now I see it
The path, it’s blocked
Preventing any passage lays a gate
Constructed fairly recently, but solid
Solid as stone and no way around it
I could turn back, choose another path
But the image of the spring is so near
My faith cannot falter
And so I wait

Sitting on the stairs leading to the gate
Listening for the chains to move
Lifting this portcullis
But what if I wait to long?
What if another arrives?
No, I must not question
I must find my use
So I continue to wait
Hoping that for once
I can continue on my journey
And for once
I can stay
Happy.

Right?
Mercury Chap May 2015
Why do we breathe
When at death
We have to stop breathing?

Why do we smile
When the happiness,
Fades away as we fall in darkness
As all we have to face is sadness?

Why do we laugh
When the next moment
We only have to cry?

Why do we feel
When at last, in haste,
We're sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste?
We feel nothing
But the last beat
When our heart stops beating.

Why do we refrain to sweat,
To remove our odor with fake scent,
With fake scent we illumine,
But at last we smell like a human.

Why do we dress like gentlemen?
And why do we spend on make-up
When at last we'll all be corpses of men
When at last all coffins identically shape-up
Like a friend's or a fiend's,
When you'll be just another ash or body buried beneath
When you'll look just as dead
No matter how good you look now instead.

Why do we earn?
Why do we live for money?
When it lives because of us
For if we weren't there
You won't have seen any printed face with a number
On just a piece of paper
When we won't take it away with us
When we would leave everything
Why do we built all these huge houses?

Why do we learn?
When we don't learn to love
It's rare that everyone knows you
Even when you know enough
And with you your mind buries in your grave.

All we do is forever scorn
I wonder why no one thought, that
Why are we even born?
When we are destined to have a grave, become ashes, hath,
She been beautiful, nothing like that matters,
Doth they love thou?
It's something they only know
It's burnt with them
It's buried with them
Beside all their fellow mates
Some were merchants, some beggars,
They all went through the heaven's gate.

Why are we living?
Why do we adhere?
To the norms of life
Why are we even here?
Why are we moving ahead so fast?
When it all end at last.
Poetic T Mar 2015
It just hung there, rusted shut
Black as coal
Cold
Vibrations
Feeling's
That was not meant to be. I seized
My limbs frozen as if blocked upon
There reach.
Inscriptions placed in tongue
Of old.
"signati inter stratis universi"
I took my camera
Photos where as if nothing seen
Static,
White,
Blank
Visions of a black that cant be disguised around
Blossom of pink delectably spread around.
But beauty often hides the thorns,
That which is perpetual
That which seeps unto this world
Old,
Malevolent,
Malignant
Darkness that is like a whisper
Permeating into this world.
It is a gate,
A portal to a place that light does
Not enter or exit from this place.
The gate to......
I walk away as if hurried from this moment,
Ushered with a momentary....
"Where the hell am I"
"I cant ****** remember the last few days"
"I sense a smell of blossom"
I fell heavy as they tell me
"It's temporary"
I had hit my head some place,
I'll get my memories back.
I open my back gate and my hand retreats
As if knowing of danger,
But I once again reach,
"Nothing"
My head aches,
As I sleep I dream of pink blossom
I see the gate...
They find me three days later
Fear distorted upon my features,
Scared to death, died in my sleep, finger frozen
Out of reach,Scratched into my headboard
"The gate is open"
"The blossom has fallen"
**"The gate, the gate the ga............"
Elizabeth Hynes Feb 2015
Standing at ease,
It never swings, there is no beeeze
I can see his ffootsteps
Overdrawn in the morning light
FreeWritingPoems Jan 2015
They deflated the ball
They had no problem catching it at all
They kept one inflated to kick
Cheating lost them their draft pick.

Why did you have to cheat?
You still wouldn't of faced defeat
Second time cheating since spy-gate
Now, you have deflate-gate
Barbara-Paraprem Jan 2015
Don’t we encounter the beloved
just everywhere?
‘No, that is not him!’ we say.
Or him over there? ‘Never ever!’
We seem to know exactly
what he looks like
and are slamming in this way, maybe,
one gate of heaven time and again.
We were only mistaken
once again.
How right we are.


© Barbara-Paraprem, 2015
Silence Screamz Oct 2014
Casting shadows of doubt,
tripping over myself.
Molten to the core,
put on the shelf.

Screws in my head,
pressure builds up,
Forty five degrees,
way to much.

Gauges turn red,
point of no return,
open the valve,
release or get burned.

Blinded by the steam
of terminal fates.
Staring alone
into the gates.
My walls are big n strong
Like that of Babylon
None can do me wrong
As I stay on my toes and strive on

The walls seem seamless  
But it's all for a reason
So I'll let you in on a little secret

The pain hid the door
And the gate won't open
Till I'm reassured that I'm not letting in a Trojan horse
By the time you make your return,
It will be no surprise if I am gone.
When you finally feel okay with being around,
I won't be around.
If my thoughts pull me deep into the ocean, keep in mind I cannot swim for I will drown in myself.
Forget all the things that were ever said, I am not that girl anymore.
I have been lost you are gone with others to comfort you and I am accompanied yet still a lonesome soul.
I would sing you a lullaby,
But they do it for me.
I would run and hug you, but my presence bring you tears.
How can love bring such inmense pain between two beings.
Your words say there is love in your heart with my name written all over,
But why is this scene still about she who sits alone thinking and hoping he is okay.
This isn't love this is torture.
As stated before,
Don't be surprised if it happens to be too late.
If your thoughts come to order after a last breath has been taken.
A promise to follow you anywhere was made.
A weak point has been reached and I believe it might be best,
To wait for you by the gate with which is ment for us to meet again.

-Kathia Mariana Landeros
I will follow
Barbara-Paraprem Aug 2014
When we stop running away from ourselves,
by not trying to feel different,
by embracing our whole supposed poorness
and the feeling of not being loved and to suffer need,
with compassion for ourselves,
so if we stay in this way with every possible emotion,
without making the step into term, explain, judge
and finally also fight,
then we encounter ourselves for the first time.
Then we begin to make us familiar with ourselves,
as we would awaken slowly, slowly
from a sleep lasting since eternities,
as if we were only now, when we were not before.
Then a intimacy grows with ourselves,
then we see with our heart and not just with the mind:
God’s or Buddha’s love
is the same as the love for ourselves.
If we remain exactly by that, what we feel,
our heart will become so open, that no more separation exists,
because all separation happens only in the mind.
Then we see the perfect in the imperfect, the beauty in the ugliness,
because there is longer any place, where we would not be.
All we can see, is
always only we ourselves, always only we ourselves, always only we ourselves.
All we can love, we are always only we ourselves.
This not to see means to suffer.
What we see may seems to us like a curse.
Yet this gate to hell is a gate to heaven,
and opens up to us after long struggles far greater peace,
than any sweet threshold.



© Barbara-Paraprem, 2014
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