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Laokos Sep 5
Would that I wave my hand
and gift the blooming of
spring flowers to you.
Or pray at the altar of winter’s slow fire
to melt away this frozen heart.
But a flurry of whiteout feelings  
blind me from such a pompous display
of naive romanticism.
Yet love is blind and love blinds.
Love binds and love breaks.
If you’ve lost the trail, you are the trail.
No one said this journey would be easy.
Actually, I don’t remember anyone telling me anything about this journey.
Rubber wood for legs and pursed lips
at the sound of a secret
taunting my ensemble soul from the wings.
Space enough to relay a message.
Distance enough to lose it.
The gathering at this point is a drift of tumbleweeds and the only thing
to read on the signs is rust.
So I reach down and grab a handful of dirt,
put it in my mouth, and whistle dixie
past this graveyard of doubt.
Just in time to see the last elephant
becoming the horizon
and the sun setting through the fog of memory.
That star burns in our mother tonight,
the mystery growing in the womb
of tomorrow.
“Come,” she says,
“the dawn breaks…for you.
Ghostverses Sep 1
Hey stupid.
I'm smiling while I write this.
Kinda wanting to type this.
So, here goes nothing?

My forever.
That's a long time huh?
I know..
It's strong, huh?
Longer then infinity.

Your eyes.
Most people might say "They're just a regular color."
Most people might say, "It's nothing special"
I say, "but if those yes were to tell a thousand words... 3 of them would be 'I love You'."
I say, "If i could count every ripple in your iris, I would"

Your heart.
It's like our favorite color, vibrant
Our favorite song, anything.
Our favorite word, darling
Our favorite thing, your love

Your soul.
Every time you speak, I laugh or smile
Every time you look at me, I loudly love
Kindness isn't the only thing that draws me to you.
The way you hold on to my heart makes me think I'm saved.

You.
Sun
Moon
Sky
City
Northern lights
Do you know what they have in common?
You.
Each and every place that's as beautiful as my eyes can witness, makes me think of you.

Space.
The stars.
The manipulation of galaxies.
How they twist and turn
mix and light up.
It's like us.
I could only imagine how you make my little star heart feel.

The journey.
The lessons.
The connection?
It all makes me want to feel every part of you.
He just gets it ! <3
Peace Aug 31
It’s been so long since words melted from my finger tips,
I’d forgotten the passion of words as I became worn,
worn down by a passionless love,
profoundly I’m willing to grow again,
and remember my soul once (again),
how could I have forgotten what it meant to write?
foolish me thinking love could merit,
and turn me away from such a miserable fate,
I am finding happiness and reminding myself to breathe,
fresh air is starting to fill my lungs,
oh how winter approaches but spring still lives in me,
welding my life back together,
I’m finally remembering (me),
someone I plan on never forgetting evermore..
I’d forgotten what it meant to live and love with passion.
Peter Aug 30
Passengers on the train, with dullness in their eyes,  
sit in front of me like a reflection.  
They stare at me, unable to look away.

The train rolls on, its sound stretching seconds into hours.  
They continue to gaze at me and then at the window,  
staring so blankly that I can hear their breaths.  

From time to time, some stand up,  
step outside, and free me from their presence.  
I beg fate, "Please, don't let them come back!"  

But they return, sit down,
and resume their gaze.
Damocles Aug 30
Show me the way
Through the streams of time
Wrapped in your arms,
Am I a worthy passenger?

I want to cross these shadows,
Skipping stars like rocks
Rippling through the emptiness
Marbles running in circles,
Around your luminance.

I want to be engulfed,
Disintegrated into ash
Trailing off in the gentle winds

I want to remember closeness,
Like it was a gentle friend,
Instead of how foreign it became,
A stranger to me now.

Crash upon me like waves
I want to bleed my colors
Like wet paint against your shores
Hoping to be splayed out in your likeness
Will you let me be your passenger?

Top down, windows open
Blast beats, on back roads
Into the distance, through darkest tunnels
Let me slumber here,
Through the streams of time.
One more before I board the plane ©️ Dominick B 2025
I:
The drunk says he can handle bars— but I just
handle handlebars, chasing thoughts downhill,
gripping acceleration on life’s crooked road,
her words tasted like lightning—a storm reigning
in my chest. If the truest lover’s tongue can write
the truth, truth still needs a page— so promise
me this time I won’t crash in the margin.

                        She:
         But darling, I gave you shape; I traced
                                 your edges in circles, crossed out the shadows
                                 of your past. You were a box caged in squares,
         I bent the lines, bisected all of your fears—
                                 in the middle, we met like intersecting skies.

I:
Your kiss felt like a riddle— a puzzle mouthed
in motion, syllables pressed against skin, body
language shelved in cynical libraries. I wanted
to read you without tearing the pages.
   
               She:
        I am neither saint nor sin, just a storm
                             pressed close to your skin. Claustrophobic,
                             yes— but don’t mistake that squeeze for chains.
                            I’m the thunder that reminds you to breathe,
                            the silence that steadies the wheel.

               Together:
     Handlebars shiver, storms bend the ride,
     but still we grip, still we glide— every fall,
                    every bruise, a geometry of love rewritten
                    in motion. Here we are, pedalling into the
                    pulse of rain. Handlebars & Hurricanes...
I wonder if my legacy
will merely be a faint light
in the peripheral vision
of a passer’s eye or a shadow figure
of a memory, the name on the tip
of a tongue one can’t seem to form.

No matter how many letters I write
to my ten-year-old self she doesn’t
seem to trust she will ever be first in line
because she’s been taught, she’s
supposed to be last.

I am beginning to understand
why I’ve always been in love with dandelions.
They are petaled, defiant sunlight
thriving where nothing else can.
Soul trespasser...
You long for splendour...
You are one of those who yearns for one-off occasions to chase after you.
You’re remembering someone’s secret celebration in a place of strange perfection...
A child that partied all night, became their own bartender and private dancer...

That unique hotel’s façade declared adventure...
But now there is a window to a dark wall of desire.
Hungering for some old, solid friend there...
You await their return, and when they do, you’re still lingering... wanting their whispers to declare...
That this room has the very best view and mirror with you in it... For a life that feeds you more than you can chew...

You’ll risk it. Won’t look back on that wardrobe journey... You’ve packed your bags, opened up in a new strange surge of wellbeing.

Cobwebs from years of wild, winding worries – clear –
As the brightest sun discovers you...
On a functional vacation, joining the dots to a person... who no longer needs to fear or hear... or acknowledge you’re there...
Part I: The Journey

The sky unscrolls a veil of fire,
the earth inhales a womb entire.
Mountains murmur, rivers bend—
all things arise, dissolve and transcend.

The moon's pale hush, the sun's fierce call
trace shadows cast beyond them all.
The tide surrenders to the land—
no struggle, only open hand.

In every stone a silent ache;
in every leaf the wind’s live wake.
My breath not born of lung or throat
moves through the marrow, keeps it afloat.

What gives is vast and gives through all
yet mind forgets and fears the fall.
It names the love then runs from flame—
it seeks the path, then veils my name.

My soul recalls what time erased:
a rhythm lost, a fire faced.
Through fog and fracture, ash and bone,
it follows songs the stars have known.

Desire appears in shifting guise—
a thousand forms and a million eyes.
Each one a mirror lit by flame,
each one a wound that speaks my name.

And still, the Light behind the play
does not withdraw and does not decay.
It waits beneath the thrum of thought,
unmoved, untouched, yet always sought.

Not skyward— no, not upward throne—
it hums within the blood, the bone.
Let rising fall, let seeking cease:
The fire remains and the fire is peace.

The timeless ones, the inward wise,
did not pursue the fading prize.
I drank the dark and kissed the storm,
and vanished back to formless form.

No titles clung, no names endured—
yet through their hush, the world was cured.
And here the trace of footless feet—
Where I dissolve, where we all meet.
The One Within the Silence is a triptych journey through seeking, surrender, and return. Blending mystical imagery with deeply personal reflection, it explores what lies beneath striving the quiet fire that never fades. From the ache of longing, to the breaking of ego, to the discovery of peace within, my poems invite you into a contemplative space where silence becomes home.
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