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Loreah Aug 6
Do we have time for more arts? Flow and clash
Thousands of wishes against each other
Do we have time for another one, another one?
Time for me to take your hand in mine
Loreah Aug 6
The glass of water shattering,
in my imagination and almost beyond
like everything else in so many ways
but not me, never me;
I am... the safety
I am the padding of the cell
I am the broken fuse allowing all the light to shine.
I am the possibility that smothers the fear in cradle.

Colored lights from the stained glass windows pour
Into the cathedral of which I stand in the middle of
I am a feeble ant amidst statues of ordained saints,
Staring at me with a faint smile sculpted on their face
They hold no judgement in their eyes. Just mercy.

I look up, and see a great big mosaic on the ceiling
Horses, dogs, men, women, children, the elderly...
Levitate off clouds of silver and gold like feathers
In the middle of them is a woman in blue and white,
Holding a baby with eyes that whisper, "peace".

Suddenly, my surroundings shift and move
Like the wheels behind the face of a clock
The mosaic comes to life in slow motion
The animals and people wave their arms,
Moving as if they're submerged in water.

What catches my eye is the woman and child
Now, a gold halo crowns them both like royalty
They smile down at me and hold their arms
Out to me as if they're saying, "we'll be right here"
Their message makes me shiver.

I turn my face away and shut my eyes
I wake up with a blink of an eye

What was that?

This poem is inspired by a dream I once had. It was closely related to this. It was freaky.
Amy Perry Jun 29
Follow the trail of daisies
That leads to my heart,
Follow like a white rabbit,
Keep your mysticism intact,
Believe, believe, believe,
The beautiful trail you see,
Believe, believe, believe,
It leads straight in to me.
Engorged in a prison box too small for the swelling of my spiritual rotted flesh.
Given the necrosis of civilizational crumbling had cast it's affect unto me,
I melt in the wading pool of an invisible guard wielding the spear of viral pandemic.
I hold steadfast in my mental capacity.
Only to have the prism of stability rocked by the puncturing of many holes in the hot air balloon that glides through the ice...
I am rocked, shook, and unhinged;
I am the door that sways gently in the breeze to the rocking tides of this astral storm of disease.
All of this chaos in the atoms of my mind's eye...
As I simply lay here.
Engorged in the prison of the mind.
I am my own gatekeeper. A militant simply funded by the fear of the invisible guard.
I blink and sip the coffee, sitting up in the bed.
Shake off the madness, and return to stillness.
The Corona of the Sun
Is everlasting

The Corona of the virus
Is a temporary crown on a knight of disease

The black light of this fell Corona
Is made of dust and tears and ash
It will fall when the next wind blows

The Corona of the Eternal
Will outlast and outlive

The pain is only temporary
As, too, our spirits will outlast

We will outlive
For we are mirrors of the Corona
Of Glory
George Krokos Nov 2019
I listen to the wind
as it blows past my ears
to sense that it whispers
from afar some new cheers
that I've been expecting
for a while to receive
and to tell me plainly
without words to deceive,

I humbly bow my head
in a true spirit of
gratitude which conveys
a deep feeling of love
for the One who does seem
to be always close by
no matter where we be
dissolving fears that try.

I somehow know that all
will be well at the end
of one's life journey which
has been lived to contend
with those things that decry
people's efforts to live
honestly by the truth
and are able to give.

I consider the past
that we have all been through
and has brought us here now
for the present time view
which leads to the future
showing us many paths
we cannot all follow
but have their aftermaths.

I look inside my mind
at the darkness to see
the light of my spirit
that comes at times to me
recognising the state
of my soul reflecting
on the outer life lived
but which needs directing.

I am very grateful
to the unseen power
that is a source of help
in hard times to shower
benevolence and grace
when futility reigns
and hopelessness is what
for some life here pertains.

I embrace all of life
with the wonders it has
and ours for the seeking
though they must be seen as
belonging to us all
without attachment to
a selfish attitude
when they're found by a few.
Written late in 2018.
Bede Sep 2019
To re-mystify, here's what i mean:
Imagine a well planned out, ancient scene
Imagine the Druids all clothed in white
Waving their staves, a pure, wondrous sight

Can you smell the fire burning?
Can you hear the kettle turning?
Can you see the embers rising on high?

Can you hear all the chanting?
The rhythmic drum bashing?
This is what i mean: Re-Mystify!

Bring back the comradery
Of dancing round, fondly,
A fire that's meant for a king!

Take all of your friends
And tie all of your ends
May the mystical triumph ascend!
Bring back the righteous, the virtuous, the dancing ways! Even virtuous pagans can be saved, if not, we'll learn from their dances!
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