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Star BG Feb 2018
  in walls of an open mind,
readying myself for take off.
Clouds vanished before third eye.
Propeller-like breath moved
into landscape beautiful.

In walls of kaleidoscope sky
Drifting in a place beyond reality.
Time stopped, as rainbow waterfalls hugged eyes.
Winds sculptured masterpieces
Florissant white materialized.

In walls of an open mind,
I was captured in a sacred place.
Pulsations of love bathed my aura.
Peaceful energies filled conscious mind.

My jet of self was on course
orchestrated well by spirits compass
Angels gave blessings grand.
Love fueled vessel
guiding me inside grace.

In walls of an open mind
I gathered all senses
as heartbeat played
to celebrate my landing
inside the new day sun..
First poem of the day. Happy reading.
Yasin Jan 2018
Thinking about the job
How bad the treatment is
Everything's too materialistic
Of course resign is an option
Mhhm... maybe next week
*******, now it's raining
outside the frame

Next to the employee, petite brat
After a while he observes the landscape
The shifting mountains, the rippling sea and the mysterious forest.
The curious boy smiles and shouts
Why do you look at me? Look outside
I know Mont Blanc is stunningly beautiful.
No just look outside - the rain is so sad.
Ronald J Chapman Jan 2018
With you, always in my dreams,
You and me standing, at the edge of a
bamboo forest,

Listening to the sounds of a thousand
flutes, as the wind blows softly,
singing a lullaby at sunrise,
carrying soft memories, from a distant land.

As the sun rises, I look around.
Where have you gone, my dream?
Have you gone home to where fantasies live?

A sad but beautiful place,
of snow-capped mountains
and fields of golden grain,

Where rainbows shine, all day,
And thunder sounds, all night?

A place where you dream of you and me
standing tall at the edge of a blue ocean, looking west
with ocean waves singing a loving lullaby, as the sun sets…

Copyright © 2018 Ronald J Chapman All Rights Reserved.
Trail of the Angels - Bamboo Flute Chinese Music ( Xiao )https://youtu.be/ABOxTtxJxNw
Vyiirt'aan Dec 2017
To lay dying in a world of despair
A landscape of disarray meets their demise
A closure in despise, forgive us for the entropy
For humanity suffers from the perks of greed

Yet the gods watch us from above, they atone
Our prayer, our faith and belief
As we cry and weep as they pinch our cheeks
The lazy gods enjoy the ordeal as we grief
21/12

The challenge is to create a poem using 10 randomly selected words:

atone cheeks cry despise disarray entropy forgive landscape lazy prayer
Shaddox Dec 2017
The cold winter wind,
Put you and me together,
Staring at the same bonfire,
With hearts burning like embers.

The landscape is still,
Only you and me animate it,
The grey sky smells like paint,
Tainted by the setting sun,
The bonfire, ever burning...

A wolf howls in the distance,
Of this beautiful, still, painting,
He dares not approach,
Your beauty must not be tainted.

I can go or I can rest,
The choice matters not,
As long as youre here, with me,
The bonfire shall shine on.
Yanamari Nov 2017
Stroking the cool surface
that my head rests against
My mind empties of every thought
Every feeling
But the sensation
Of being entrapped within
a point dimension.
...
Reaching past the darkness
As the dimension grows ever larger
Draining my vision,
Stretching my will
thinner and thinner
Is it me who is shrinking
Or is the darkness growing larger?

What is it, that the warmth escapes me
As soon as I reach closer...
Falling out of reach
Never nearly close enough
To fall through my fingers.

That tight feeling in my throat
And that
Air that tugs on my lungs
And that
Urge to tear myself open
In a scream that fills
The empty landscape
...
Closing my eyes,
The cold melding away,
My head sliding down
In a legato staccato of my essence.
Vyiirt'aan Nov 2017
A blanket so pure and soft
From the windows yender
And tiny droplets aloft
In manifold and splendor

Luscious silver droplets glisten
And puncture the frozen sand
The sparrows whisper, I listen
I indulge myself, coat in hand

The princess blooms to rise above
Her pale mantle remains unscathed
Perceiving the amber glow
In which her petals bathed

As mere buds scatter with the wind
As mere thoughts dwindle
As mere tufts gather on the hills
And spread over the shindles

And here I remain within the haven
Where I watch over the murky landscape
When the sun resolves, the pastel colours
Of glistening hope my locket holds
Story Nov 2017
Dam
In the dusty fields
at the foot
of The Grand Tetons,
A small colt wanders
in the vast grey-green lather
of sage brush.
Blotted brown patches
across its belly
like
black mold on the ceiling
Of my memories.
One can never be sure where
the clouds end
and the mountains begin.
Those looming chalky blues,
Not unlike the sea.
It is only a matter of time
before the colt finds
what it is he was looking for.
It is only a matter of time
before blue meets blue meets
green
meets sea
meets sky.
One day these mountains will
No longer remember my name.
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