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Amanda Hawk Jan 28
I can’t help but wonder if we have crossed paths
Over and over again, tangling each hello
Catching a hint of mischief when we first bumped into each other
And how easy it was for us to slip into
Conversations, plotting to take on the world
But first things first, we have to catch the moon
And hold the stars ransom in our back pockets
I swear we were pirates singing sea shanties
And conquering cities, but now we settle
For late night dance parties, and one shot, two shot, three
And sure, we are invincible, and I can’t help but wonder
If we have crossed paths over and over again
Our stories layering, life long friends
Or maybe arch nemeses, and each time
Tagging out a new adventure
Where we are chasing after each other
I swear we were renegades, young rebels
Questioning authority and pushing boundaries
Now, we collaborate artistically
Broadcasting in a world of social media, one shout, two shout, three
And sure, we are strong, and I can’t help but wonder
If we have crossed paths over and over again
Our history repeating, kindred spirits
Or maybe pieces of the same soul, and each time
We meet, we find a part of ourselves
We had forgotten
Inspired by BTS song "Telepathy"
Samara Nov 2020
Ophelia and Persephone
my kindred women
& forlorn spirits

I wish to embody the
eccentric melodrama
of their complete life
the grandiosity
the tapestry of all
that life is
and should be...
void of any
and all
Martin Mikelberg Oct 2020
these three words appeared in my mind without thinking - help me interpret what do you think my mind was revealing  or creating.
Anais Vionet Sep 2020
Some Senryus about
Bestfriends - the kindred spirits
we're lucky to know.

Boys are "whatever,"
but bestfriends are forever.
That's the way it is.

We tell our secret
fantasies - that we exchange
in sworn secrecy.

Bestfriends: the girls you
only stay mad at briefly - 'cause
you've news for them!

A bestfriend would push
you into your crush and yell
"get some!" then run.
bestfriends, teen, kindred spirits
rose hopkins Aug 2020
I am the undertaker
the one who speaks
for kindred who need to shield.
I am the risk taker
behind the mask
holding the fort
the last resort
in this estival of unknown out comes
this is my testimonial,my task
my forte.
for BLT's word of the day challenge .......nearly a week's worth in one sudden inspiration.
undertaker-one who takes the risk and management of business,  kindred-related individuals or one's own family,  estival-relating to the summer,  testimonial-statement,   forte-one's strong point.
Rivers flowed from my eyes
Into the seed within my heart
I nourish the seed with the well of love
right now I am in a drought
I long to soak in water through my soil
I long to spread my roots through this dry soft land
I long to sow truth
this is my intent
I long to rise up and bloom
I long to open my petals and taste the sunlight
I yearn to bask in the warmth of your rays of love
until we meet again I sleep and dream of you beneath my petals
Kym Relo Jul 2020
Let it out little wolf;
You are my nightly kindred howl.
Let me devour it.

Let your howl take flight;
I promise to keep them close,
In hollow delight.
My mistake.
Jack R Fehlmann Jun 2020
And how do you...
Know me
Share the unfair
Pull invisible strings
Stir what froze solid
Question the reason
Cause upheaval
Invite pain
Bleed this soul
Use words
To know
Making me
Wish for more
To know myself
Saige Jan 2020
Worms were never appealing to you -
seeds, berries, echos, and ghosts you preferred.
And kindred spirits and misty mornings.

I remember I found you alone -
your brothers and sisters strewn around you,
like dead leaves in the fall -
a whisper of their bird-song
still sighing on the wind.

So I held you in my shirt's breast pocket,
and whistled while I knitted a nest.
Just a little bundle of grass and string
but you settled in.

I thought you would sing sad songs in the evenings,
like the wise women that sat on porch swings.
But you just mourned with soulful eyes,
haunted by the shadows of your past.

You waited for something,
a memory, a word, a release.
I saw the knowing in you then -
the knowing of much more than life and death,
than seeds and windows and metal bars.

And I sighed.
How much I long for my own release,
not from life, no:
from my own expectations,
from single-stories and stereotypes.

Let me fly free, you cry.
You're too much like me, I sigh.
Pick up your Markings
discover that reading you
is meeting me

A heart cleaved open
by thoughts never spoken yet
I know them as mine

How can this be when
penned and inked long before I
was even an I

Here they are, speaking
words never written yet known
as carved on my heart

These words resonate
pulsing out, low and long as
water on the shore

Washing over Time
one voice drawn from two strings
as Rilke had said

As is you and I
with one voice burning with words
that transcend all time

Thanks for the giving
back of my words which I spoke
long before I was

And for your markings
guiding me along the path
to the Meeting Place

Where you and I are
one voice drawn from two strings
in Eternal Hands
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