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My room does not
evolve or become;
it morphs instantly and before your eyes.
Things move and fly they burn and cry.  

I watch as a dust devil conquers invades
Two minutes later,
waltzing brooms on parade.

I stuff my room full of
glass metal wood.
Some would say hoarding
I reply misunderstood.

Most of the glass is pretty much broken,
the wood is all scorched, the metal contorted.
All of its stays because my hand has spoken.

My room is a magical place replete with spirits and souls and little doors to inner-space.

It likes to listen to music, the scent of a dog... It begs to get ****** off a good Sensi fog.

My room inspires my hands to create...
Whether with torches or pencil, hammers or lathes.

I often ponder
what will become
of my room when I die?
Perhaps as I come back
to bid farewell....
I'll leave a piece of my soul to guard it at night
Good ol' Colombian magical realism
CeilingStar Jul 2018
I am Autumns baby

my bones align every Autumn season
I come alive, rising from the earthy soil
I'm Summers poison,
my blood all hazey sunsets and leaf mulch

It's just something about the way the dawn and dusk shaded leaves flutter delicately onto my bronze barked skin
and the way the forest breathes, shedding it's summer shroud of green, canopy now thin
anticipating the snarling undertow of winters frosty bite
how the branches twist their arms and fingers,
reaching up to the light,
sky as blue as my doe eyes

the sunsets are all for me, low and piercing,
using her fiery fingers to stroke my face
I dance naked with the birds, the trees and the sun, a blur of grace

I'm all variations of brown, with the occasional pop of green
my lungs house my earth and its flower children, in my rib cage built of twigs with a magic sheen
my hair cascades like a molten copper mess
I'm a reflection in a lake, beautiful crystal but a construct you cannot caress

luke warm, barren branches and burning peat
crows, shimmering sunsets and crunchy leaves under your feet

I am Autumns darling

KG
Its something about the earthy air, I feel it deep in my bones
Anshara Jun 2018
In the corner of my memory
In the corner of my room
Lies a brown piano I've spent my life with.

In the corner of my memory
I hear music being played
Magical fingers dancing upon the keys.

In their corner of my memory
I see brown hair and brown face
But jet black eyes and a musical smile

In the corner of my room
A bully I see, against lockers
Outcast locked in its room.

In the corner of my memory
I see water. I breathe water.
No painful expression, just peace.

In the corner of my memory
In the corner of my room
Lies a brown piano,
I'm now spending my existence with.
This poem too is inspired by a song in BTS's Wings album.. The song is First Love by Suga..
Listen to it.. You'll all love it..
Rose Jun 2018
what a beautiful thing
to have a happiness box
filled with
quite mornings with falling snow
white light of a full moon with the ocean breeze caressing
rumble of lightening on the road under the flashing stars
warm sand between toes with sweet fruit on your tongue
peaceful nights as rain gently taps at your window
gental hums of the dishwasher as you fall asleep
her soft hair as she bends her head to cook
creaks of the stairs as they wear time with pride
what a magical thing to remember
your happiness box
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