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Fly
i flew, into the land of tears
i jumped, but my wings brought me down
i'm flying, you can't see it, but i am

the fiery air heats my skin
the freeing feeling liberates my soul

i ran, i jumped, i fly
Anmol Mago Nov 2019
I see people running
All around me
their eyes fixed upon a
distant dream
that no one had ever seen
nor felt or touched
yet to them it as real
as you are to me

O beloved
I have seen
people cramed up
in tiny spaces
like cattle waiting to be slaughtered
and at night their eyes shine
bright with
overwhelming sorrow
and I feel that beneath each
Of those well dressed
corporate sheeps
there is a beast
which dwells quitely
in their perfectly numb minds

and perhaps we all
are living in a jail
as wide as this world
trapped in our motives
locked up in the hate
waiting for the eternal
trial to commence
and perhaps this
love of yours might librate my soul

and perhaps not even this love
Would ever heal that little beast inside
Sabila Siddiqui Jul 2019
To write,
was to embrace all the waves
that you kept off the shore.

To write,
was to embrace the thoughts
you shoveled down
so they wouldn't have the power to hurt you.

To write,
was to feel liberated
of your shackles and confinement.

To write,
was to find yourself
navigating towards
your own thoughts
and emotions that you
kept away for so long.

To write,
was to feel once more
and be brought back to yourself.
Sabila Siddiqui Jul 2019
I have a voice
behind this tongue
that is quiet and sky
and knotted in my throat.

I have a voice
that whispers to me
but i fear to amplify,
for you see it reflects on who am I.

I fear of what they might think,
as it is not an attempt at speaking
but an insight to my perspective,
and thoughts
allowing them to know and judge.
It's a fear I dread to face,
that consumes me everyday,
I don't face.

I have a voice,
its mine
and I don't want it to be
muted by people
and neither fear.

I have voice,
that it is all mine,
that I will amplify.

For it is a part of
who I am, my opinions
my thoughts,
I choose for it not to be taken away,
neither suppressed.

I give it a platform,
a channel,
and courage
to let it speak
its very own language.

Liberating me
with every syllable it lets slip.
Don Akasha Jun 2018
Readjusting to the eternal present moment that is now and forever
Where all things spiral and grow... where all creation flourishes
Once again I lost my mind only to rediscover inner peace
and find a sense of contentment and bliss like never before
This maze gets deeper and deeper as I traverse the unknown and beyond
I keep wondering how things could get any more strange
I keep thinking that this life can't get any more magical
As soon as I feel like I know what to expect,
the path transforms once again, right under my feet
Doors close and windows open right in front of my face
This path is forever changing and adapting
Constantly shifting and expanding dimensions
I find the singularity and liberate myself with each breath
Pure eternal bliss...
Everything is perfect as it always was
Everything is perfect no matter what happens next
Expanding Consciousness - Month 8
Lyn-Purcell Jun 2018
I didn't bite the apple, but now I see that
there's a dangerously blurred line
between liberation and
thraldom
Really reflective today...
Again a lil off but fine, I hope. (My head hurts badly, though)
But I'm inspired me to do a project! Two projects but one at a time!
Thanks everyone! ^-^
Be back soon!
Lyn ***
Dinodust May 2018
He exited the mines

Unkept hair, pale skin, a ***** baseball uniform

‘Y-you... shouldn’t b-be here... what’s y-your purpose...”

The studdering man was young, scrawny, had cuts and bruises

‘I’m here to purify the land, to liberate the specters

‘W-well then... Can you l-liberate me?’

The man stared at the pitiful boy
Glared at him for awhile

His eyes narrowed

‘You are not pure’

He raised his bat

And swung

Aimed at his temple

And yet he held still

Knowing he wouldn’t last long anyway

Not breathing the smoke for air
Not eat the meat and sugar
Not walking on the plastic
Not digging metal from the bellies of cows
Not in the smoke mines
Not in the postal offices
Not at the meat fountains

There was no use for him

Not to the protector
Or the queen

His black oil blood covered the plastic grass and bricks

“T-thank you...”
Mortis Ghost’s OFF
G Rog Rogers Oct 2017
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
-Haiku


Indelible Words

Inked as small
whispered traces

Liberate the mind.

-R.

10.28.17
-LA
English Haiku

©ASGP
Lyn-Purcell Sep 2017
Shh...
You can taste it, can't you?
The nectar of the forbidden fruit,
the music that dances in your ear.
Crashing on bed,
the sheets ripple as you're lost to the
beat.
Your heart's aflame.
Tendrils of adrenaline begin to spark
and spread through you, from the
fingertips to your bedroom eyes.

Naked,
the silk sheets caresses massage your body.
Strokes like gossamer wings
flutter in you,
around you.
The golden sax becomes a sensual purr,
as you are kissed by the smooth
sounds of sweet murmurs.

Tongues are chisels
that leave you some sheen.
Fingers are brushstrokes,
that combs your chest and
forgets no details
as it traces shapes over
your goose-prickled flesh.
Writhing in the pleasure of
golden smoothness, with
lucid silhouettes of heated
summer layers during wintered nights.

The sax growls through your ears,
and all that is seen are its glittering lips,
the promise of the sweet doom and amour fou...

For
nothing is more
liberating,
nothing is more
enthralling than
the
carnals
thrill of the illicit.

A candied fingers to your lips...
This is kind of a first for me. I never usually write these sorts of poems, but hey! First time for everything. I was listening to some jazz music and man,
there is nothing more **** than the sound of the sax to me! I just let it flow while writing.
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