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There’s something about the look in your eyes
that sinks me deeply.
Your gaze an anchor in my chest
that’s managed to snag onto the edges
of my fluttering heart.
And with every breath, I feel you pull me down into the depths of the blood that rushes to meet the surface of my cheeks.
I can’t breathe when you look at me.
Descovia Nov 2
Just like this beautiful weather,
everything brings changes
The signs, I no longer ignore
a woman like you is worth waiting for.
I embrace the beauty in moments as these.
She is my twin flame, her light, it's powerful.
It's heavenly, it shields me, my soul from freezing
and bounding itself to ugliness. Her warmth is all I need
Ricky & Descovia collaboration

It combines
Ricky M. Martinez's Quote:
Just like this beautiful weather,
a woman like you is worth waiting for.

Descovia's: Everythng brings changes. The signs, I no longer ignore
I embrace the beauty in moments as these.
She is my twin flame, her light it's powerful.
It's heavenly, it shields me my soul from freezing and bounding itself to ugliness.
_Her warmth is all I need_
Glenn Currier Aug 20
When I start to regret the past
I have to ask
what does that piece of me mean
is it something best forgot
or a lesson
that turns my dark to green
It might make my dust into stars.

I should not waste my scars.
I thank Archer ( for the idea for this poem with his poem, “Waiting Game (
Ken Pepiton Aug 12
Missed perception,
missed conception,
missed implication,

fists exist in the womb,
we see the mechanical means to hold

that wind.
Aha, you see, my role depends, hangs
from you,
a drip of sense, per haps the stuff
called gnosisnot…

Aitia, as a word, or a line
Aitia, assumes you see the tia-

Matters not, a disconnected god idea
Tia mat, aitia, shush a by, hush at best
- blow the man down
beastly idea, I owe you, payback
for the lies I told as knowns you knew…

THINGS, substantial things,
things of substance, faith , hope, agape
ape, naked
theories of time and chance and measure-
oh sure,
any line can make a reason, hooks you see,
infer reference to reasons, to fold
as indicated
along the dotted line.

Friction is resistance, feel, the urge
to not let go,

at the edge of understanding as standing
under pouring rain, rain we all must use,

we are forms for water, once rain, many times,
to imagine with,
as one think links another, and sense of tow,
dragging, friction
from fictional characters, abstractions,
ones of one of thoses,
wit-minds they own,
living as aimed,
from most recent reset, empirical
lesson learned life. Per-ifery vision,
pulls the eye to see a certainly meaningless bird.

Pauselah and all, meaning being nothing alone.

Dune, dam the sand, didn't we--
the powers that be pushing cinema,

emotion enhanced shared experience
with strangers, in the dark, attention
focus, extend
to Netflix, and ever after, not the sameness/
- relatively tiny frames of focus,
- re imagine Monument Valley on a tablet.
The show-business intention was artful,
expose the world to panoramic vision,
from Universal Studios, et cetera,

and Radio Knock Outs, every body re-
cognates, co-gnosis, lock, looking
out, from Kansas City, or Kiev
- there is no time like the present
- we developed in, to occupy
- busy as a we/
- this is surreal, so clear and sharp
(rest perspective to default} - that should say
In the story we lived in, in the Bible,
fully functional for cultural via-ducting
truth, and nothing but the truth, so
line upon line
help me, God. I heard it's said the riches
of the wicked are laid up for the just,
just, child lesson, see so, as a child,
- But Job answered and said,
Oh that my grief were throughly weighed,
and my calamity laid in the balances together!

For now it would be heavier
than the sand of the sea:
therefore my words are swallowed up.

yes, child,
imagine all the sand on all the shores.

As seen on TV, by nearly all the eight billion,
needed to make up our next cosmic byte…

If we get back
to aitia, we can ask for judgement…

let us reason
together, through all cutting off of fluency,

we advance a means, and idly add a concept,
ways, as if we are the ways
and means committee,
co meaning like a way one hand may
wash the other, as
co-operation, brain and extentions,
-ygnowaddameans, aug-mental
cur- ma'dam cure eeeeeeeeeee
easy ease, re loose the captives,
let the o-pressed go free….

loose the fist locked and cocked, wave…

Think along the lines in times, whenever,
just now,
you watch raindrops wind a way to an edge
& plop, sound magnified
as in a bull-barn, plop… what scale are we?
-present tense
very insignificant… considering ants as

Ant-man, mirror neuronal echoes,
how will those effect my grand children.

RIP Stan Lee, you really tweakt my head.

-- this can't be default, we can't hold the idea…

The fullness of the godhead, ******, right.

That is expansive. Believe me, we survive.
While watching some you tube intellectuals ply their craft, I fell into a
we wondering, once again, if wedoms to share minds held in memory of times, do expand to fill the bubble of all any one of us may use to hold
- one good reason.
Zywa Jul 12
People just believe

in the new, and they forget --

that it is ageing.
"Geschiedenis van de Russische literatuur" ("History of Russian literature", 1985, Karel van het Reve)

Collection "Stream"
Descovia Jul 7
I never thought I would discover a passion as yourself.

Miracles restore my desolated mind, repeating a problematic past. The demons no longer reach me with their screams, the damage done to my spirit, it all vanishes from your embrace.

Your voice is loveliest tune in the world. I rather not live without the colors your ideas paint into life. Music sings and fills the air from your soul. You know enough about yourself, still it's a mystery to you. What your essence delivers in quantities. Blessings are bestowed upon us, upon all from your divine presence.

It's remarkable. It's astonishing. Vibrantly godly.

You are the key, providing me LIFE.
You are strong as LOVE and without you.
I would not be able to DREAM

I love you ever so much.
You are a true earth angel.
I will fight by and for you
always on your side.
Warrior or Spellcaster.
Mastering multiple abilities
I learned from the best.
Rama Krsna Jul 2
by this man-made lake
a steady drizzle hums,
the sun, yesterday’s news
as nature’s palette turns green and gray.

staring into the gun metal sky
she nuzzles her hennaed hair
into his gandhian lap,
mesmerized by the pitter patter
she dubs, as tears from heaven.

a bow-shaped stone bridge on the near horizon,
red-eared sliders floating on the water,
the pencil thin architectural skyline,
even the floating melancholy mute swan
beckons monet to rise like the phoenix
and have a second go at whimsical life

but not me,
with a cornucopia of life-scars to show,
and a ticking clock that’s monotonously relentless,
this trip to the crease better be
the last time at bat

© 2022
Like a dead poem
who must be reborn
on the same night again
with all the endless silence,
words back to learn
to string his sentence.

"Everything that has been exhausted now it's between love and hate."

And a long road engraved
back to make a new face
along with each space.
We try to say the word go,
say the word again.
Everything that looks new
never forget the past.
And for all that is finished,
waiting for another story to the last.
Indonesia, 17th May 2022
Arif Aditya Abyan Nugroho
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