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Holding space
Holding feelings
Stopping time
     For a moment

What does it mean to feel safe
To BE safe
Can safety be given

Or only taken away

I believe it can
I hope it can

Safety is an illusion of control
But a vital illusion
One we all need
               all want
               all deserve

Why is safety so rare
                              illusive
                     ­         easily taken away

If we all need it
why can’t we all give it
To ourselves
To each other
To our past

I don’t know the answers
Only the questions
The yearning
The dream

So for now
I will hold space
          hold feelings
          stop time

In a soap bubble
My sphere of influence
Invisible but all encompassing
Fragile but resilient

For a moment
Billie Marie Jun 8
Sometimes
this is only a human word
meaningless in reality
I am always now
not in the now
cuz now just is

The words come
the thoughts come too
feelings
emotions
they come
then go

Free?
Free is creating
the universe of which you exist
there is only living
and the mind

There are different ways
various practices
everything goes to the same end
the beginning

a person - family
community - nation
and world missteps and seems
to be forever off-track
even being here
one becomes lost
the appearance of being lost
the sense one is lost and blind
yet still one is here

There is a hard way
and an easy way
a long way
and a short way
complicated and simple
there isn’t time
only now is real
so only now one must see
this is the easy short and simple way
to reach the beginning at the end
Rama Krsna May 27
at the junction
of your vermillion adorned forehead
where the rivers of 
ida, pingala and sushumna meet,
lies the point of singularity
from where
our cosmos exploded
into this unwieldy clutter

with it
an unseen fifth dimension....
a spider like web of illusion
deluding all humanity
into incessant action
where
only karmas multiply

oh maya!
i implore you
to end
this vicious cycle

reveal
that white lotus with a thousand petals
sitting in your cerebrum,
where the love of your life
sporting that chiseled crescent
meditates
in contemplative silence

© 2021
Inspired by another amazing rendition of the goddess by the talented artist Nalini Chandilya

ida, pingala and sushumna are three vital currents that energize the cosmos
Viseract May 13
Mist-minded, clouded thoughts
Can't seem to focus, or keep rapport
Importance is relevant, irrelevant I dwell
In this cartography, well-drawn Hell

Zipped up lips, verbiage tripped
The spoken, delivery, edge unclipped
Harsh and cold, worn limestone
Regardless of polish, I'm overgrown

What feels real is this heart of steel
All else surrounds, of fabric, of gown
Dressed up nice to masquerade
False-tipped smiles, dead parade.

The forge burns true, just underneath
My love, my Sun, I shall bequeath
Hardened and cold, aftermath of the craft
Add a little heat and reveal my heart.
Reality can feel like the worst illusion, but when it fades, my heart awaits
Harley Hucof Apr 29
I am gazing at a shining portrait as my desire is announced by distant bell chimes. I merge with the paint and feel absorbed into a different timeline.

In the painting, the wind carries a scent of a familiar tree assorted with the melody of its leaves. It all brings back the memory of a song that I love, that reminds me of a woman I met in a vision from a dream yet I don't know the language it is made of, nor I can sing it for I am dyslexic in the ear.

This is an illusion, I see it. Still, I deem it to be real, similar to a scene that I keep reliving as I wander the mystical golden desert, I wonder is fulfillment an insult or a compliment if attained outside the ordinary strains of sensual accomplishments?
Disconcerted by previous arrangements i think it through to realize this is an illusion is just a tattoo .


Words Of Harfouchism
kayzamo Apr 28
Brilliant cherry reds
Scattered like stars across the tile floor.
Their sheen is alluring -
A bright dollar store sparkle;
A candied shimmer to disguise triviality.

All it takes is a jagged nail
To scratch away the lie,
Thinly veiled by a coat of paint and acrylic.
"A person's true colors will always show in time,"
Or so the saying goes.

The deceit is lovely.
It carries an aromatic falsehood
With promises of

                          truth,

                                    gentleness,

                                                    and beauty,

All pretending to glimmer in your plastic ruby eyes.
I gladly welcome critiques. Thanks!
How will you skip your own game now
In which once I lost my whole world?
How much illusions you will create more to avoid your own self?
I screamed for justice
I screamed for justice
I screamed for justice
Behind my every laugh
For my all tears
I didn't repress
To make her smile.
What makes you to stop and not compromise for the sake of your own child self. You scream inside but hold onto the game of reality to say it's false and empty.
Oda Apr 14
Is this life all a fallacy,
People playing make belief,
Stuck in
dillusional false releif.
Lying to themselves,
Saying, "This is my reality,
Do not tell me anything
Of insanity
And intrude on my normality."
A lethal self-imposed ignorance,
Moving,
Tearing through life
Destroying themselves
and everything they come across.
Is this life just a fallacy,
As I watch them
playing make belief,
Falling in love with vanity.
All so superficial,
Shallow,
meaningless,
Full of poisoning emptiness.
Taking loves purity,
Making one belief
It is just a cruel thing.
But true love will conquer,
Shinning brighter than
a million galaxies.
Bringing Light
To this empty
Consuming
Emotionless
World.
“When an old man dies, a library burns to the ground,” African proverb
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