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Hastfan Aug 2023
I see vivid, my vision flowered
All the colours, i call them ours
Afterimages and my poems
Branded on my eyeball's moments

Blue does spread like food colouring
Dropped in my vision spluttering
I close my eyes to escape the noise
But all it changes, is the background choice

I see the bright blue sky
With floaters, sparkles and vivid lies
And sometimes my hands are dissapear
Beneath shadows leftover from lights bright near

But all in all it is alright
After all i could lose my sight?
And that is without mentioning my ears
that have been ringing for years.
If you were a painting
You'd be a masterpiece.
I see beauty in all kinds in people
The moon seems so high
in the night sky,
yet somehow he wraps
around me,
Consoles my daily troubles
His radiance warmly
encloses my entire being,
He adores me, causing my soul
to glow.
The moon has always been thee for me and kept me safe. The sunlight has given my where abouts away.
The Lonely Flower

She stands so elegantly tall, but she stands alone,
No one else besides me would take notice, because I know how it feels to be lonely all too well.

I shall plant seeds at her feet,
Then she can stand proud,
Now knowing
all will look up to her.
She's to exquisite to stand alone feeling the pain of loniness.
Andreas Simic Jun 2022
If you Google it, the search comes up as a dot it is so small
growing up years ago they said the population was 500
but that had to have included the people passing through
for we had an ESSO, Schell, Gulf, BP and Texaco gas station

Being on the way to cottage country we were that stop
far enough from the big city for cottagers to be ready
for a bathroom break and a fill up at the pumps
Crime was something we only read about in the papers

Our claim to fame the lake, and ice fishing
You could drive your car to the island in the dead of winter
passing by fish huts painted in an array of colors
The ice road delineated by trees to avoid getting lost

Sure we had the odd break in at a cottage but nothing
that got our name in the news
Oh, we also had two churches and a one room school house
we arrived when I was in grade two, Miss Mitchell was the teacher

Growing up in those days meant hours playing
If we weren’t swimming, we were future hockey stars
or baseball players, Ian and I at the back of the school
pitcher and hitter challenging each other

Hours upon hours at a time spent with kids from down the street
Sure there were the petty fights but mostly with my brothers,
but what can you expect when you have four boys growing up
each vying to become adult like

Those were, in my mind, the days of innocence
before computers and the world became larger
and the internet allowed you to see it all,
the poverty, the deadliness of war, man’s cruelty

Once a place I wanted to desperately get away from
to get lost in the city, an introvert looking for a place to hide
I now find myself reminiscing of those long lost days
where life was simple and a day could be spent daydreaming

Andreas Simic©
It's difficult to describe,
as if something your eyes
have never seen yet you
struggle to put iit into words.
It's like being melted into
one another, in the middle of the horizon’s beautiful swirling colors.

Time flies at ultrasonic speeds
  spent happily.
Each other putting their own
happiness and needs above
  their own, for their soulmate and yet it's not a sacrifice:
It makes you happy to be compelled
  in such a way.
There's no competition, you're as if
  one, and that makes a hell of a team
There's no fear in this true love.

It always adds to one’s life; it never “takes away” or brings pain or unhappiness. It is not one sided
nor can it ever be “lost”; hence, True Love is everlasting (just like it is in romance novels and fairy tales).
~Author Ven J Arnold
True love between two people that is totally selfless is rare. It's a rare gem and if you ever find it don't let it go.
Odd Odyssey Poet Sep 2021
So live life without
a need for Google friends;
Searching for-
your identity inside of them.
Sundas Mar 2021
She is half a Hershey's kiss from the hilt of a child,
The blue screen, her lampshade; the glass, her mind.

'Hey will you entertain a question, angel0f_death9:
am I rather self consumed for dwelling on my selfishness in the apex of the night?'
Justin Lai Jan 2021
google was my babysitter
not a very good one i'll admit

perhaps more like a cool uncle
with infinitely scrolling treats

the more i tickled his algorithm {
search queries = seo && [freewheeling whims];

OR ||
stray thoughts seeking foster homes
just fronts for attention farms

reaping curiosity off the vine
while overclocking the study room

being held to father's chair like a vice
if only to keep me safe in a web

spun by a child's simple thoughts
and a sentient robot babysitter
if you craft a more elegant google algorithm then dm me ;)
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