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Zywa Sep 2024
My prettiest dress,

and little jingles ringing --


in everyone's ears.
Earrings

Novel "The Queen of the Tambourine" (1991, Jane Gardam), Chapter Evening of evenings

Collection "SoulSenseSun"
do you constantly feel like you're a time traveller ?
going beyond past the time and realms where no one else know
see things that no ordinary man sees
dimensions that are only visible to your own eyes
getting trapped in cosmic battles trying to fix the unforeseen and unknown
the loops of wanting to serve humanity yet no one really gets it
hold that power,stand firm,you're rare ; Angel
you're invincible ,alive and wide awake yet invisible to an ordinary eye
use your gift even when it goes unnoticed or realized
we don't need the spotlight ,we're to serve and kindle broken-hearted people
give hope to the hopeless,and answers to the seekers
vibrating on a higher power is a curse and a blessing;
constantly seeking to adhere to the latter
understanding I'm just different and can't save everyone
the beautiful world inside that's governed by eternal peace
harmonious quiet moments that are intriguing
i only wish if i could come with the world inside to this awakening
G Vermeulen Aug 2024
Pearlescent backdrop
Drapes on top
Silhouette of darkness
Edges showing their sharpness

In the middle of it all
A man’s head not that tall
Seated on a couch
Pretending like a slouch

Constant ponder
Waiting for a wonder
Seeing himself
As a book that’s forever on a shelf

And while he awaits
A change in states
The backdrop fades
Just a man in the shades
G Vermeulen Aug 2024
Sometimes I feel like a candy wrapper
Found in a lot of places
Seen but not recognized
Never prioritised

All about the unwrapping
See how far they can get
Without shredding
But it's not about the padding

Then to be used
For their filth
To be added to my insides
And wrap back around all my sides

Once I've been toyed with
It's done for
Time to throw me away
Doesn't matter what I say

Simply, trash
Billie Marie Aug 2024
we can live as if nothing exists to control us - nothing plans to stop us - nothing lives to defeat us - nothing strives to define us.

we can live - just like this.
without shape or name or linearity.
we can be what we are.
can we not be what we are?
Jill Aug 2024
Hey, have you seen it?
I can’t find it anywhere
I thought I left it with my triumphs
I couldn’t find those either

It might be wedged between my trophies
I hate it when that happens

Or maybe it’s mixed up in my love letters
Or my performance reviews
Or my pay slips

Is it in my CV?

Ah, there it is!  How silly of me

It’s nestled in the neat pile of ballpoint pens, with lids, that write smoothly, first time
It’s in the cutlery drawer with a full complement of teaspoons and forks
It’s among the neatly paired socks, fresh from the line, no sock missing its partner
It’s among the dozen, perfectly iced cupcakes that were just the right size for their box
It’s on the dropped toast that landed honey-side up

And all the other impossible ordinary objects
©2024
Jill Aug 2024
Scared and small
Tiny fingers stretched
from trembling hands
Reducing
My near-invisible child

Loud and mean
Nasty onslaught aimed
in and outward
Maligning
My hardened cynic

Sad and lost
Streaming eyes held low
with purple sills
Anguishing
My grief ghost

Earnest and curious
Love for people, loud
and pulsing warm
Exhorting
My moral rebel

Strong and brave
Combat stance all force
in white-hot flame
Conquering
My elven queen

My inner fellowship
Child, cynic, ghost, rebel, queen
Present, at calm attention
Carrying matchless lessons
Pulling in rare directions
Born of distinct conditions
All in service of me

Does that answer your question?
©2024
Zywa Aug 2024
Am I made of glass?

My inner self visible --


and unreachable?
Autobiographical account "De harde kern" - 2 ("The *******" - 2, 1993, Frida Vogels), June 1951 in Leiden

Collection "Trench Walking"
MetaVerse Aug 2024
Creation's whole, a single one who's I,
Who's you.  I'm talking to myself in thee,
O my most kosmic self who lives a lie
Called me and everyone who isn't me.
Space is my mind infested with the in
finitely finite infinitum ad
The Word is God and every body's sin
Is mine that ever was and has been had.
God is salvation.  Christ is God who's love
With you and in your shattered broken heart.
Broken, the light within you shines, the dove
Flies free, and everything is new.  Restart.

I am Creation and so are you.  Let
Go and behold the end that wasn't yet.


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