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Tiana Nov 2020
... how I sit everyday with
my thoughts astray: how
wonderful each day?

mindful, nostalgic or absent

in my head repeating scenes:
smiles of yesterday? promises
of tomorrow? - No
- only knowing today.
Past Nov 2020
Winter’s early months,
Carries a solemn sound,
Paired bitter fragrance,
Filled the vacant soul,
Think soley of biting frosts.

Winter’s middle months,
Assemble a bird’s tune,
Matching candied scents,
Known of lining mind,
Broods of woeful age.

Winter’s late months,
Carts a vivid air,
Coupled **** savored,
Divines the untold echo,
Fashions a taper edge.
Harry Roberts Sep 2020
One wide split right through the middle
Frightening fighting while I stay hidden
A war between reality and feelings
The path my feelings follow aren't always appealing.

I've invested my energies in endeavours proven destructive
Fed the essence of my aura into a river that's been occluded
All the sentiment sediment with the pressure becomes eruptive
Seems like the fallacy inside me had always been corrupted.

Imagination and my devastation have I always been deluded
Dichotomy so clear yet the opposing parts keep feuding
They create a perfect storm as if these factors colluded
Adding to the mounting anxiety making matters more confusing.
Harry Roberts
Harry Roberts Sep 2020
My chest is half full
Shimmering with love
Spilling compassion by the heartful.

My mind is my own
These voices are mine too
Threads of thought tough like sinew.

Unravel the knots so people can find you
Chaos can hinder weaken and blind you
Remember yourself be kind and be gentle.

Remember yourself and your morals be mindful.
When the glass was half empty
Hurting with its absence
Perception is everything
Even when its harmful

Harry Roberts
Imagine an enchanted;

Yes!

Clearing;

A flourishing verdant
evergreen grove,

Raining
oxygen-filled particles
of Wish Light

A vintage letter falls
from the elder oak boughs;

Floating to your feet

Sonorously you read,

"Breathe
In
Deep"
After a week sheltered inside from hazardous wildfire air in the Northwest, it's time to scribe a change.
Zane Smith Sep 2020
numb
so alone
yet so surrounded
support.
These words
feel rusted.
It's been awhile
Since my fingers
felt the keys
like this.
I wish to cry
like I know to do
but brain
Is paused.
Feelings feel
clear,
nowadays a blur.

I know my strength
but it feels transparent.
I know my worth
But it feels meaningless.
I'm here in the present
But my heart
Replays the past.
Everything is put
on hold
But time won't stop
So I cannot.
Robert L Sep 2020
Inspection leads some men
to brief resurrection,
But that course can also
lead to a defection.

There’s often some needing,
for a frenzy of feeding,
When we seek to feast,
on an ego that’s bleeding.

Is it real or some mirage,
lost in forest or garage?
So many casualties of truth,
how can we triage?

And this is that place
too well we all know,
that if you disagree
well that’s just your ego.

And right or wrong
you must submit,
Or be tossed from the circle
a dishonorable ****.

How is it we can be so blind,
to not see we are of a kind.
Who run about with desperate shouts,
without a mindful mind.

In the dark I see a wraith
Perhaps a remnant of our faith,
Ephemeral and tinged with rust
Forgotten father of our trust.

I’m not speaking here to thee,
what’s this paradox I see
But you said that, no I did not,
Oh, what a travesty!

Walk a mile in my shoes,
see for yourself what you may lose,
Perhaps you’ll find the fit so right
that it awakes you in the night.

And there you’ll lie and toss and turn,
amidst the loss amidst the burn
Oh, sad child who would not learn
Please say a prayer for me.
Clouds
sketching
synchronistic
footnotes
into the novelties
of the day

Tucking into the folds
of late August valleys

painted in vintage clover

falling toward winter

Ivory forms lazily turn mobiles overhead

As symbols,
as comfort
as bucket filled rain.
When no one notices
not even our own awareness
our branches
persist toward the sun

A rope swing dangles

Ready to hold Love,
to listen to Love,
to feel the embrace of Love,
to give Love a push
and to pull Love back
when it has wandered too far

The wind blows us left
the rain torrents right

Through our boughs
our leaves

letting go

down one
down all
It is astounding, despite circumstances, how strong humans can be.
Daniserena Jul 2020
If only I wasn't such a freak then I could explore the world every day of the week.
being constantly stuck in this place I call home, I just sit and watch the other freaks roam.
all the normal people have someone to love, and I'm stuck here talking to the angels above.
maybe if I looked different I would get treated better, or pretty and famous then my fans would write me letters.
but normal is not absolutely in my inside, and I don't wanna act like something I don't define.
but it's okay to be different because different is better, whether it's pretty or not like an ugly sweater.
being a freak doesn't make you weak, being the same will always make you lame.
realize this cause this is who you are, and finding the truth isn't so far.
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