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Bekah Halle Dec 2023
Pen on paper is like breath in my lungs.
It is my write to live;
Describing, birthing, embracing.
Permission to give.

But the pen used ineptly,
Causes death.
Like throwing my pearls to swine,
Snuffs breath.
I am spatial, /
I understand, /
I fathom, /
Through distance, space, & time, /
I see clearly, pristinely through you & I. /

'Do not forsake me, /
I am everywhere,' /
He says to me, /
And I unfalteringly, /
Unwaveringly, I believe /

In Him, are treasures: /
The opulence, /
The affluence, the direction, /
Of one-million /
Guiding stars. /

You are a sign, /
A beacon of hope to the lightbearers; furthermore, /
A portent, /
Ominous, pernicious, /
To the Cimmerian shadow. /

I know you /
You, /
I love /
You, /
For that I am grateful. /

What is love? /
An existential vagary? /
Perhaps not. /
It is real, it is tangible, /
When He is in my arms. /

Mi amour, /
Mi amour, /
Mi amour, /
Mi amour, /
Me encanta, mi amour. /
justine grace Dec 2023
may the day dawn when the warmth of a cup of hot chocolate cradles your hands, invoking memories of the laughter we once shared. and in that moment, my deepest wish is for your heart to overflow with pure contentment, untainted by shadows of the past. may the scars of your inner child find solace, no longer tethered to the lingering pain of darkness.

as you awaken each morning, may you draw back the curtain, inviting the sun's rays to dance within your room, illuminating your soul with a profound happiness that resonates through the echoes of your being. may the purity of your intentions radiate, touching the hearts of those around you, who come to know and love you for the genuine beauty that resides within.
wherever and whatever that may be, may you always find peace and comfort
Bekah Halle Dec 2020
That, which is before me, I take hold.
Stepping forth with the keys,
once wearily, but now growing bold. 
Down, black dog, down.
Joy: light in thin cracks extol.
My heart growing in strength
stepping out bold,
it’s the only way to learn, heal and grow peacefully old.
Down black dog, take off your crown.
Bekah Halle Dec 2023
Was my stroke a cruel, twisted **** up?
Or one of divine luck?
Has it not taught me compassion?
Anger? Acceptance, how to ration criticism?
And laugh when I muck up?
Now I breathe gratitude,
My world has opened up
to new experiences, people, circumstances,
even living in new towns, cities and states.
Mastering rehab, new knowledge and careers.
Working through old fears, sure, I've got new ones,
But who hasn't?
Connected and trusting this journey.
Now that's the silver lining!
In 2012 I had brain surgery to remove an aneurysm and AVM and had a stroke during the procedure. After 10 hours of surgery, they put me in a coma to let my brain heal but I did not wake up until 40 days later.
jǫrð Dec 2023
Death found me in 6
He knocked at my door
And when I opened it
He knew my agony
Inherently
And kissed me once
Between the eyes before
Moving on to number 5
I heard my neighbor
Let out a desperate
Wail and knew he had
Claimed another instead
The History: I have been extremely ill today. I've not slept a wink. My head is pounding and I am feeling so lost and confused. My neighbor in 5 let out a scream that I have projected before. The ambulance came shortly after and what looked like a small body was eventually removed.
Marília Galvão Nov 2023
Light thrives in the dark
by finding its way through the brenches
of a dense forest

Light thrives in the dark
by passing through the windows
of a wintered house

Light only strikes you
when you finally get to know
projected on the path you've always walked
your long buried shadow
Nat Lipstadt Nov 2023
~ one more for patty m. ~

slept late after dancing with my devils, from,
from the wee, until a pealing pearl from the Earl of Dawn,
recovering from an intrusion~invasion~brain~regurgitation,
and it’s nearly 9am, sipping my first cuppa Hawaiian,
& woke to a repost of a ten year old wondering plea(1)

makes me think “This old thing,” poem, like a fav
frock/suit that still drapes perfectly, and yet draws the
***** admiration and drippy drawling yummy compliments,
gracefully, gratefully demurred with them three words,
& it’s 8:39am, Bruce pitching in with “Born in the USA”

recipe for a new thank u Gawd poem to make room for
a fast~break diet for an old man with a rebuilt ticker, this
very emission~transmission of a verbal politesse writ going
some where, cooked on a medium slow burner fueling dressed up seeds of heartfelt appreciation made of ancient oat grasses

birthing a poem~child of thanks to the Lawd for one more day,
opportunity, the five sense’s delivery gratitude and gratifications, and the desire to intertwine the sights, music, a crisp blue November Sky, the need to bleed brew these words into a fulfilling,
second moment mug, for the pearls and Earls

of poetic humans


10:01am
Thu Nov 2 2023
(1) Do You Know Why Men Cry in the Bathroom?
grace is the morning,
greet it with gratitude;
and so do yourself too,
for keeping on,
for keeping on.
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