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K Balachandran Sep 2019
The spider, in many hues rules.
But I never could understand
The complete operational rules.
                                    Still I have
Unflinching  faith,like no other
On the spider, that it knows
The rules of transactions inside out.
I am in the web of a clan of
Spiders, day in and day out.

I just lie supine in comfort  
And let my song bird fly high
In the sky blue oblivion
Of my mind, listening to
The singing of the bard of
The absolute, transcending limits.
        I am more and more lured
in to his cave where light is present
By its physical absence.More and more
An innerbeing after substence
In the company of this siver luminous.

She comes alive, fire risen from smoke,
Her red hot eyes capture my truth quick!

The spider sitting on top of me
And working on me with
Her oceanic mind that seethes
Agile vaginal muscles, I picture
Is still reading "Every Women"1
From memory; I just feel it
as each of the steps to the
thousand petelled lotus is
left behind one by one.

My silver spider
who flies with me from
the conjoined base of
"Mooladhara"2 at the ****.
If she is the fire, I am the sky.
Hear the silver bell she rings,
In mind's eye I see how her
Silver strips gleam, wet with sweat.

As we step out to the garden path
The green spiders of thick foliages
Waved at us.Golden spider of the sky
Hanging low beamed at us.
1."Evcery Woman"(A gynacological guide for life by Derek Liewellyn-Jones)
2.Mooladhara means "the root and basis of existence" according to Tantra Yoga, located at the ***** one of the seven primary energy centres of human body.
Sabila Siddiqui Jul 2019
Him: She looked different, I hadn’t seen her face this bright in a really long time. In that moment she was the moon, the star, a luminous soul that stood before my eyes. She was like confetti, leaving sparkles where she stepped. It wasn’t like the happiness she plastered on her face or the smile that made dimples appear on the ends of her lips. This was different. I could feel the energy. 
Her cheeks swallowed her eyes whole and those hidden teeth behind her lips were exposed. It was just everything about her, how her voice was powerful and high-pitched just like a youngster. The way her pupils dilated and showed all her excitement. The way her soul radiated excitement and joy. It was everything about her, the way she moved, the way she spoke, the way she laughed. Happiness made her feel like she could do anything. Happiness was more than just beautiful on her. It was luminous and powerful.

Her: This happiness felt ineffable. It was more than just a star lighting up in the dark, it was more than the darkness fading away. It wasn’t the happiness that is supposed to be picture perfect or the commercially perfect of having pearly white teeth. It was the one that my soul roar and bursting away from the confinement. It was the happiness that made adrenaline rush through my veins and neurons spark every cell of mine. It was the happiness that made me not care about what others thought, whether I was too much or over-excited. I was happy, I was more than happy after a very long time. It didn’t matter to me. I felt fierce. I felt like a child. I felt everything beautiful and powerful. I didn’t want to lose it to others words or to anything in this world. I was going to protect it, guard it and hold on to it. I was going to shine and radiate.
sir humbug Jun 2018
the job of the artist
is to be
luminous and dangerous

luminous to others
by being
dangerous to themselves

when the words are ripped from the chest,
atmosphere disbursed by the body’s projectile messes,
starburst fireworks,
luminous and dangerous,
luminating the shared night,
laminating your truths,
in poems disguised


and so the job,
our work,
begins
Keith Mitchell Nov 2018
potted soulmates
luminous
delicate orchids
reaching so hard
just short
space given
natures third eye
curious cat
stumbling sliding
cause and effect
intertwining
flowers
benefit
crash
they fall in
wrapping up that moment
second turns forever
beauty forever joyous
memory

knowledge
pay attention
your potted soulmate
waiting
just slide and crash
curious
cat
Jazeera Nov 2018
She was an angel
With her alluring wings.
But the evil mind devil
Torn her limb by limb
Until he satisfied his quench.

Now the devil is beaming
In the mortal soil.
And the angel is resting
With the other angels
With her wane wings
Luminous in spirit.
Chrissy Ade Sep 2018
When they greet her each morning
The clouds will always kiss the sky,
softly taint her with their love
grooming her for a beautiful day

But do they know that nothing they do
will ever hinder her from hiding her truth?

She can beckon the rain to pour gently,
even descend fiercely as a wild shower
release a luminous shock of white,
striking against her nakedness
accompanied by the bellowing thunders
the ones that cause even the strongest
to tremble as trepidation hugs their bones

-- when she finds it necessary--

Her actions are not contingent
upon the desires of those who
only want the easier side of her
To love her is to accept her wholly
and truthfully for everything she is
Critiques, Comments, CC and Feedback is much appreciated
Dominic Wright Sep 2018
When the sun went down,
the moon came out
and the stars appeared.

The streets became vacant,
Laughter from children came to a halt,
The streetlights flickered,
and the sediment from underneath our sneakers fled into the air.

The sun took away the warmth when it set.
Children escaped inside to embrace the warmth of their mother's arms.
When the moon made an appearance,
She brought the luminosity that manifested our insanity.

Although the sky's window was tinted,
I stayed outside to view the celestial body.
Luminous, beautiful, misunderstood,
I watched the sky change into its true self.
K Balachandran Feb 2018
such eloquent eyes,
her luminous spirit's dance;
love, to him gifts two wings!
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