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Em Oct 2019
In Death
there are only
Machines.

Machines
made to guide the man
to a heaven
that never existed.
i woke up in between naps to write this im going to sleep again
Rory Mels Tims Oct 2019
Create to start day
Relax by midday
Learn by late day
Contemplate to end day
Read when it's not day
Dream it all away
Six steps to happiness!
Nylee Oct 2019
Punching the numbers
I get the feeling of being lost
In the sequence of the memories
I feel my feet touch the ground
So when I open my bag
There is emotional side of me
Flickering in the dark.

Down in the pitch black
I look for the tiny spark
In the stories of old age
I look forward to happy times
And then I pull up myself
Found that I can stand
for a while more for a start.

The dark clouds clear and move
The sun makes the way
When mountains stand in path
From a valley it shines
And I know in truth
Darkness guides to
The road of eternal light
When no other lamps make you sway
.
Yoh Esters Sep 2019
The sounds that riddle out from her. It plays an instrumental tune as it bounces in the atmosphere.~

Too soft yet still noticeable, light enough to find me when I'm lost and strong enough to lift me up when I'm down.~

This is the shape of her voice.~
Sehar Bajwa Sep 2019
braving the tempest
hope plunges on; horizon guides;
their lighthouse signals dawn

-----------------------------------------------------------­---------

your compass guides
across uncharted terrains;
your light leads the way.
Joseph Miller Sep 2017
In the morning
I see them
coming over the edge
enlightened spirits
guide me
Through the day
I feel them
pulling me towards
all the answers
when I need them most
In the night
I hear them
whispering in my ear
Rest easy, they say
And I their humble servant
gladly obey
Chaque fois que j 'escalade
Les parois des mots vers les pics inviolés
J 'emmène avec moi dans l'expédition
Mon éclaireuse d'élite.

Ma sherpa me guide et me prévient
Des chutes de sérac et des avalanches,
Cuisine les rimes embrassées, porte les alexandrins
Installe le campement des rimes embrassantes.

Alors elle se repose sous sa tente
Et, satisfaite, cure sa pipe
Tout en fredonnant inconsciemment
Ses deux quatrains suivis de  deux tercets
Tandis que que moi je suçote
Mes surelles poétiques confites.
.
Ma pisteuse pose ses pitons et ses broches à glace
Dans l 'ombre des cimes
Sans oxygène sans assistance
Dans les nuages de la haute poésie.

Nous avons ainsi planté nos sonnets
Dans les vingt-et-un sommets continentaux
Ma sherpa c'est mieux qu 'un sur-homme
C'est une sur-femme, une sur-muse
Une sur-déesse
Une vieille briscarde
C'est Junko Tabei et Bachendri Pal
Et après chaque sommet qu 'elle franchit
Sans désagrément
Elle se retire sous sa tente
Et, satisfaite, cure sa pipe
Tout en fredonnant inconsciemment
Ses deux quatrains suivis de deux tercets
Tandis que moi je suçote
Mes surelles poétiques confites.

Parfois la chute d'un sérac imprévisible
Nous emporte, nous ensevelit et nous broie presque
Mais jamais ma sherpa ne se départit de sa pipe
Ni moi de mes surelles
Dans nos joutes poétiques.
Mystic Ink Plus Aug 2019
And listen
You know what?
What you are to me?

You live inside
My world
Far beyond
With heavenly grace
In all shades and hues
And flow naturally
Tracing a way
As the verses
Birthing life

Thanks for being
Namaste
If i have not said?
Genre: Experimental
Theme: Sculpting the thought
Bhill Jul 2019
The intentions were
To guide you through life's pathway
Where did it lead you

Did it guide you well
The pathway seemed to be bright
You brought love to all

Brian Hill - 2019 # 182
Who is your guide?
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