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Betwixt words, lines,

Poetry's music fathoms

The depths of our heart,

The heights of our intellect

And imagination,

Breadth of our spirit,

Well of our soul,

Alluding to the unknown,

Saliently.  For, the muse

But whispers, silently,

Moving in mysterious ways.

Painting's music?

Inexpressible and felt,

Unknowable and experienced,

Of echoing images, silences.

Even the shadow

Speaks of the light.
This is version two   :)   reality
Neither do I embrace.

Rather, the struggle well run,

Which uplifts us uncrowned,

Every moment humans race!
At 16 I postulated that the bi-headed (now RumputiN/vlad-the-impaler), bi-polar axi of worldly suppossed power (republican, capitalist, notsee, materialists/communist, socialist, totalitarian materialists) were like the opposing two sides of a coin (surrealistically like mirrored images), running towards each other; in terms of supposedly fighting, supposedly diametrically opposed, and as they proceeded the coin, Earth, humanity, etc., continually disappeared, etc.- and when they reached each other, humanity would be extinct, the Earth possibly destroyed.  That was 43 years ago and after the 2016 election, Russia's hacking, buying, social media manipulating of it to install RumputiN/vlad-the-impaler into the Blackhouse and the subsequent heir Mueller (because he was head of the FBI and part of the republican elite who, along with king george and his ****, cheney, purposely didn't prevent the attacks on 9-11-01, and the report that followed it, which was also a cover-up) report, which is a sophisticated cover-up, notseeism, also Nancy 'Chamberlain' Pelosi's desires not to impeach, totalitarianism, as well as the Gov't not actually trying to stop Russia's shenanigans for the republican conspiracy and the global oligarchy; that global big 'fix', seemingly, permanently 'in', ending actual elections in the united **** of assassins- is the actual extinction of humanity and large mammals, if not the total destruction of the Earth, in a con, or coined, if you'll allow.   reality
Dipesh Apr 2
Hey you, yes you! , 
Look into my eyes, 
You are my prey,
And I'm your death, hi.
Not so soon, death,
Please let my soul reside, 
I won't waste time, 
I'll love you till I die.
You had your chance man, 
We have to go, tonight, 
Your time is lost,
Your life is now mine. 


What would you do if you were to die tonight? , 
When death would kiss your lips, 
and **** your soul and fly.
Don't say you'd browse more IG or watch TV, smile, 
That is not you speaking, that is your laziness, *sigh.
Lae Mar 3
Under the light of the moon, i stare at the stars, wondering if i could be one of them if i died- if i could be immortal. If I could live up as someone who was looked upon- someone who was aware of my existence. It's such a calm night, hearing my favorite songs playing and the curtains swaying by the wind.

It somehow feels magical- like a hidden power. The moon sees me whenever i'm not around a lot of people- sometimes, i think the moon knows all my secrets. I stare at it and wonder if you're looking at it too. I hope you do. I really hope you do.

My love for you is like of an asymptote- a line waiting to be intersected, hoping to be a red string brought by fate.

I wish we could  happen- but we can't, because you didn't know... and i couldn't tell you.

So under the light of the moon- i hoped alot. We couldn't happen but it's not yet the end.

We were under the same sky atleast.. That's what I needed, and that's what we will ever be.

So I hope you remember me, not just that someone who walked past you, the one you caught staring at you, and the one you were really annoyed to... because if you only knew..



Your happiness was mine too.

It wasn't an underestatement. Those three words were not enough to explain how i felt for you. Nobody knew.

So if ever you looked up at the midnight sky- I hope you think of me, not just that someone who would creep behind just to catch a glimpse of you..







                . . . . but as the girl who would have given the world to know.
Annie Feb 19
All of my thoughts are melting
Inside my mind into a lake of dreams
In which I only see reflections
Of thou and all of thy belief

I cannot touch thy picture clear
Or grasp beneath the surface
Unless I blight or chase away
All what thou hold and bear

I can't do anything but listen
For any silent sound
Watch every detail of expression
And stay on trusted, solid ground

Unless when every light but thy
Vanishes before my eye
I see you everywhere but here
And search for thy embrace
That I can only find inside
The mere of thoughts inside my mind
I take a dive, I fall asleep
And search thou in my dreams
Inside a long forgotten place
Of inner peace and faith

I take thy hand
I hear thy voice
Until I understand
About a young man, understanding his faith and connection to his god in a dream. (Fictional)
Pallavi Feb 11
My love is like a quartz
Bestowing shine & sparks.
It's still like a Tiffany
So smooth but slippery.
It's like an expensive piece of art
I can only imagine for.
Absence sharpens love.....
They say,
My love couldn't reach
to the bay.
It's just a fiction.
William Allen Jan 16
I made my way to the front.

The invitation was subtle.

The cold gray stones
shifted
cracked
and
chipped
under the pressure of my heels.

Dark
Worn
Splintered
Rails

Drew my hands, ever so familiar.

I pressed up the aged steps
to a door of old wood & character.
Its constitution still intact and uncompromised.

An iron handle, worn smooth from visitors past,
waited for my embrace
and the latch, warm to the touch,
gave way under my eager thumb.
This is part V of a ten-part story titled, "Effulgence: A Story of Light."

Enjoy.
SpiritHeart67 Jan 12
Sometimes the more I see,
the less I want to look...
annh Jan 11
Blind man walking - heals through touch,
Carries coconut oil in an old jam jar,
Trusts in the magic which guides his hands,
To carry his dusty feet home.
Based loosely on my brief acquaintance with a traditional Fijian bobo (massage) practitioner and healer named Rupeni from the village of Vunivesi, Vanua Levu. Vinaka vaka levu, Rupeni! :)
SHAINA BHATTI Jan 10
A puny nib tells it's affliction to perception sheet.
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