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It is such a vivid mystery
a flowing constant change
It would be somewhat scary
but for your perceptive soul

Soured smooth vivid mystery
A flowing eternity
A stranger who is somewhat scary
Smooth-sailing journey.

Why is this dream still so vivid
And displaying in my night brain
Over and again over decades.
In a surreal setting that melds Times Square and The Grand Concourse.
With buildings mostly dark
Street lights reflecting off shiny pavement
and sidewalks
I walk in the empty streets
I'm alone on the night streets
'Glad of that, 'don't want a dangerous stranger lurking

My legs are strong yet tired, but I have plenty left
My legs are my greatest physical asset, for better or worse.
I don't know where I'm headed
But I want to be there, 'keep walking at a good pace.

Dusty aired steep shadow
Shoes heavy reigned
The empty place in
Time to search my night brain again
Ponder the walks behind my shoulder

Vivid with gushing candour.
I came home just when it started to pour
Timely shaken feet
Shifting close by the livid door.

Waking with the dream fresh and clear
As is the air, (it rained so hard last night)
Out with me goes my dog, to be
Among the clear crystal voiced Thrushes
In their Woods, which is theirs for this half of the year
I wonder what they say
I know they've never sung in Times Square
They're not singing of those smallest white violets
That grow in the wet
With their tiny purple lines on their bottom inner petals
Or about me
Or Sam
But probably about each other
About how lovely their songs are
How good they'd be together
Not about the crescent moon
Or about where I didn't know where I was going

I don't need to know their mystery
Or how the violets grow in the same place every Spring
After being under feet of snow and inches of ice
For the other half a year

Is this the other side of the dream?
The dream?
How do you know to say it differently?
Better? Vividly?
This poem is written by Jim Musics and Teri D. B. Yeo.

It was inspiring to co-write with a writer of teeming experience and life which really spill onto the page. Such an honour and delight!
Jay M Mar 25
Cities, all empty and dark,
Towns long abandoned,
But there is one place,
With a light of silver,
Flowers blooming,
Stone so beautiful...

A graveyard;
The empire of the dead,
Filled with the pale light of the moon,
Beams gentle and forgiving,
Soothing and connecting,
The souls so broken,
The flesh so tormented,
Here they rest.

Telling their tales,
Singing their songs of woe,
Expressing their moments of life,
Possibly their moments of inner death,
Bound forever in the minds...

Dancing, brooding,
To each their own...

Here I walk,
These filled, yet empty streets,
Glancing at these wonders,
These fallen warriors,
So bold, yet not very old...

Beautiful silence,
Beautiful pain,
Lost in all of the mistakes,
Slowly fading from the misery,
Unable to stay,
Yet unable to leave...

- Emily M
March 25th, 2019
A butterfly on my notebook
Rainbow colored wings, as large as leaf
The other day escaped from my hook
Carrying the burden of my dreams and belief.

It flew in the midst of sunflowers
Gazing at the sun,never getting tired
No heat bothered them,nor the waiting
Without expectations, they were sired.

It flow above the ocean,endless blue
A reflection of sky,an estranged sister
To meet at the end, of which they had no clue
At night they stop, staring at each other.

It flew between the mountains,hard to touch
Singing a song, no one listens
Waiting for the shower, they care so much
Hoping at the end, they will be chosen.

It flew under the caves,secrets hidden
Needle of silence, vow they taken
Fearing the light, if secret get stolen
Day to night, their eyes are open.

At last butterfly came back
Drew pictures of places it has seen
Told me how my beliefs and dreams
Were the reason, who I have been.
The Mysteries Of Love what Is love might seem a silly or obvious question
to ask for someone who had a love for over
20 years
What Is It that makes us  decide to like one person
yet not another without even knowing them how
strange Is
that
I wonder how many times
throughout our lives, we miss out because we make judgements purely on looks because we didn't take the time look
deeper
These may seem obvious questions to some people
but for me maybe It will remain one of life unanswered questions
The mysteries of love
Inspiration to write this poem  From The Myteries Of Love from David lynch film Blue Velvet
sunprincess Dec 2018
O’ mighty one, creator of all things above and all things below
The sun, moon, stars, oceans, and the sand
Why create places far beyond the reaches of beast and man?
Why create beauty in such hidden places
mountaintops, deserts, and seabeds
Is this just because you can?
Mysteries of the deep like grains of sand
Tightly held in the palm of your hand
Guess some things I can never understand
And sometimes I wonder about
the guys playing in the band
Are they real?
At times we wonder why we aren't heard,
When we sing in silence...
Lines don't make poetry but the depth in those words.
Meera Oct 2018
All you see is a smile on her face
Or how she walks with elegance and grace
How her laughter echoes in the air
And how the wind moves her hair
You see her lips painted in red
You see the tiara placed on her head
You see everything she lets you see
But what you don’t see is the real ‘she’  
If you really want to see her, get closer
See her anxieties, strangled together
Look at her tears, she hides them better
Look at her soul, a withered flower
Close your eyes, if you want to see more
Can you see that pain, there is lot more
These criss-cross lines you feel on her arms
They are the traces, of her hidden scars
See there in the corner, her heart is lying
see it is bleeding, but not much crying
Listen to the secrets, she whispers in the dark
Hold her hand and you’ll feel a spark
Behind the surface there’s a lot to see
Deep in her eyes there’s a hidden mystery
A lot of mysteries are hidden behind the smile that she carries.
Esther Oct 2018
her eyes
were black
no trace of white around
and I always wondered
what they reflected
did they reflect her soul
her endless soul
full of mysteries
hidden in the depth
concealed by her
only for her to see
or were they a reflection
of what has been and
what will inevitably be
the beginning
and the end
of time

I lost myself
never to be found
EP Robles Sep 2018
THAT in my fever while sanity has escaped by baluster
i continue to gaze in daze across the sea of white-
capped madness

Each o-shaped mouth
Each Black-bead eye
and all the ears
     all the chins
             teeth

  speak an infinite story of nothing but sadness.
And within the orchestral pit finely dressed musicians
they shed b-flat note tears; their mannequin powder-white
skin a color of pink's sunsetting murmur.

Simply, the true story is off stage toward this
improbable army audience; the finely carved polychrome
citizens start to move;  half-bodied and more alive
than the flesh-kingdom.

   Last night.  Last night i felt.  
That one's life can be as real as one's imagination
   if you sinerely wish it.

:: 08-23-2018 ::
wishing the reader to decide what it means for them
Train of Thought Aug 2018
What is worth a writer's many words
When the ink holds your meaning like something
at the tip of your tongue?

When your eyes finally perceive
what your soul feels
and your ears hear
what your spirit receives

When you dwell
be it in high ground
or on low valley
When you look to the sky
or cast your face down to the ground.

You look longingly into eternity
awaiting something all worth more
that this.
Longing for meaning,
purpose,
life,
a reason to live
a reason why you breathe and do the things you do.

Longing for
connection,
relationship;
Longing for
mercy.

It is in the journey of a lifetime
that we realise
the hidden things

When the deep cries out to deeper waters;
When we look longingly
into the mysteries.

Thus it is in those
that our restlessness yields,
and we find peace despite calamity.

When we shall see even the face of God
who once dwelt with us.

What is worth a writer's many words
when the ink holds your meaning like something
at the tip of your tongue?
It is worth more than this,
that meaning be even found in this life
and moves beyond to something much greater
than this.
Dig deeper and look beyond.
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