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Valentin Eni Nov 15
I feel
an angel’s touch, so soft, so near,
a mountain crumbles,
its roar I hear.

I see
the shadows carved by lightning’s glow,
the light of a seed
in the earth below.

I hear
the silence stretched across the years,
curses rising from the graves
through tears.

I believe
in the stain of a demon’s dark embrace,
in the power of words
to claim their space.

I know
who will bear the weight my cross demands,
why the world bleeds
through trembling hands.

I feel
the steps that lead me closer to my breath’s last bend,
the touch of an angel
before the end.

*

I Feel
(Alternative translation I)

I feel
an angel's touch upon my skin
I feel once more
a mountain crashing, tumbling in

I see
the shadows lightning leaves behind
I see anew
the light within a seed confined

I hear
the silences an age has kept
I hear again
the curses rising from the crypt

I trust
the foulness that a demon breeds
I trust still more
the power that resides in deeds

I know
who'll bear the cross that's meant for me
I know as well
why bleeds the heart of all we see

I feel
how many steps till death I tread
I feel once more
an angel's touch upon my head
(Originally written in Romanian.) The poem engages all the senses to convey a feeling of transcendence and existential struggle. The contrast between life and death, light and darkness, is a central motif.
This poem presents a journey of awareness, moving between sensory experiences and spiritual reflections. The angel at the beginning and end bookends the work with a spiritual framework, suggesting a reliance on faith amidst the chaotic contrasts of existence. The use of sensory verbs ("feel," "see," "hear") is immersive, pulling the reader into the speaker's evolving realization of mortality and existence.
Zywa Sep 30
I take the highest

stone, the very mountain top --


and I throw it down.
Poem "legenda" ("legend", 2017, Dorien de Wit), submitted for the Turing Poetry Competition (2017), published in the collection "never end the day with a question"

Collection "SoulSenseSun"
Blue mountain
Summer dreams
have led me to your summit
I can breathe here
I am alone
I am at one
with your soft mists
and rugged trails
The meadows
breathe of peace
and Summer warmth
releasing perfume
of wild thyme
of honeyed air
of rosemary
and lemon thyme
I would stay here
with the pines
and lonely stars
Yet I descend
for you hold me
to the world
K J Samuel Sep 13
Get my boat so I may go to the mountain top,
To thy enemies Infront of thee flee,
On their carpets they go away from their home,
From all they have ever known,
Wayward unto the sea, down many leagues they flee,
Away from the wrath of ye and me,
To the Mariana trench we cannot see,
Is the destination to their journey,
Upon which we will sojourn,
And deeply yearn,
All there is to learn.
MetaVerse Sep 12
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Abi Winder Sep 6
there are moments in a climb
where you stop,
and put down the things you carry.

either to admire the view
or to let your lungs heal
from the constant ******* in of wind.

there are moments in life,
where we must stop,
and put down the things we carry.

either to admire the the view
or to heal the ache
of constantly living.
Jason Drury Aug 28
What is love,
if not told to the heavens?
What I feel for you,
is locked deep in the ocean.
The more I know you,
the Deeper I go into your forest.
What I want is not empty,
like weathered plains.
It’s not murky nor dead,
as I step through your swampy past.
It’s whole and true,
as the smell of rain in April.
Its beauty is among the sun,
in spring.
All I want for you,
for us.
Is an adventure,
of love everlasting.
Lyla Aug 23
Smell the forest’s breath
Sweet pinesap, hot brush, decay
The mountain’s flesh bleeds
sharp, fine dust; rocks clot the roads
Selfish love wounds its lover
I grew up in the mountains of northern California, playing in the recovering clearcuts.
I hiked on the highest Mountain,
Swam the deepest Sea.
I fished in crystal Waters,
but success kept evading Me.
I felt Success, was a Race Horse,
that runs Fast and Free.
So I ran My Races with Blinkers,
but success never greeted Me.
In reality, Success is not a Race Horse.
But it's the field, on which it Raced.
Success had always, held My Hands.
I was Blind, in having it Chased.
Success is in the Journey,
I chose to climb the tallest Heights.
All this while, Success sat besides Me.
Watching Me, for Days and Nights.
Jon Sawyer Apr 7
Doing time with my spouse,
feels like climbing a mountain.
7 April 2024 - After yet another cluster of seizures on her birthday, my wife and I have about a two week period where we get our lives back on track. It's a cyclical process that is sometimes difficult, but upon reflection can bring more than one silver lining.
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