Peace you’ll never find,
if your eyes are blind
to the naked now.
Just look––you’ll see how.
As I watch the time passing by
I knew I was near to meet you
I'm having hand tremors
and I'm sweating.

My heart beats rapidly
and my feet don't want to move
I'm nervous, yes
but I don't want to repent in the end.

Little by little I'm getting closer to you
then suddenly I stop, then you stand
and walk near me
then escorted me to sit.

I'm starting to melt
only my smile is allowed to do
because I can't even think twice
or walk any further.

Your sweet and calm voice
drifted away all of my sadness
and then I close my eyes
to catch every word you let go.

Everything seems perfect
but when you called me to meet her
I want to have time machine
to bring back the moment that I was all alone.
I - “What is this realm?”

Figment Master - “This is no realm.”

I - “What type of world is this then?"

Figment Master - “This is no question.”

I - “No questions?”

Figment Master - “There does not need to be talking.”
Karisa Brown Mar 15
The light out weighs
This tunnel now
And all The dark clouds
Have faded

Make use of your time
To keep them out
Dont get frustrated
The hate will dissipate
Let me melt them away

Listen to me inside
I am your heartbeat
I am your story cloud
Brighten me
Sarah Mar 15
"i had a dream about u last night,
                                                                ­                      kinda fucked me up"
                                                             ­                                                 He said

you fucked me up and i dream
about you every night
Arlene Corwin Mar 14
On seeing the Hawkin news some hours ago: Be the first to read/react to my reaction.  Not about jazz, not about yoga, but about recognition.

         Outside Time: Hawkin March 14, 2018

No obit this,

But chance to memorize, memorialize,

Tattoo the size of genius,

How it comes to earth in time

Then goes god-only-knows how/where –

Knowing only: not damned here.

Yet ‘there’, by definition place,

Perhaps is space;

Maybe a ‘where somewhere’ in space -

A guess both uniformed and obvious.

Mister Hawkin, master Hawkin

Freed from chair and ALS,

Cells and intellect’s fine processes;

Mammoth efforts of all kinds

To feed the body,

Read the mind(s)

Of universes.

To record this day inordinately mixed

With sadness, pride, heroics -

That a man second to none

Has been an Einstein all his own;

Whose works we’ll clone (to yet go farther)

For ‘by works you shall be known.’’

God blessed the non-believer Hawkin.

Outside Time 3.14.2018 The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative II; Revelations Big & Small; Nature Of & In Reality; Circling Round Reality; Arlene Corwin
Genius now out of time
the upshot constituted a figurative straw
     that broke the virtual camels back
where yours truly fingered as scape goat,
     who meekly, passively, and subserviently
     felt the stinging crack
of wooden, smooth,
     and oblong paddle and stands pat,

     asper innocence, though now
     (myself more than two score years
     orbitz around sun) remains more defiant
     for purportedly causing Roberta -

not her real name flack
and clears that blot (now a composite
     of petrified spitballs) as a hack
writer of poetry, feels jilted like Jack

donning many major protagonistic ruffian knack
nursery rhyme roles, which fables never didst lack
for upstart precocious, kickstarters impish grin,
     as if he just wolfed down a swiped Bic Mac

and goose that laid more than one golden egg
McMuffin running from the Giant,
     with spindle shank for each leg,
and sliding down the beanstalk, which didst peg
world wide web Marathon record
     suddenly the envy of Queequeg,

which way word ness
     far off course from the theme of this work,
hence hold tight
     to hazmat bag of poop pin jay dreck,
     while poetic license allows me to twerk

intended story aye (captain...
     oh captain) moost not shirk,
lemme reel yar attention
     back to the classroom of missus Labosh,

     hood didst whistle and perk
unbeknownst to me, my scrawny derriere
     unaware what quaint, hence danger didst lurk
for letting passivity
     find me singled out as the bona fide jerk

wishing Moby Dick could swallow
     hook, line and sinker
     with a slight even Steven crane
of his neck, every mother plucking bird brain classmate
     deemed Scott free, and Chutzpah didst gain

while this smart ass wannabe took a crash course,
     sans weltanschauung "Artful Dodging
     Spitball Shooting Maven" in the main
quite heavy on Physics and Trigonometry as became plane.
In the trash
And then deleted

Kind words, gentle favors,
I deleted it all

How could I have done a thing
So terribly awful?

No revisiting that one time you said
..... That .....

But now, That is all that’s left in my head;  But now, That is one thing that’ll never be read; But now, That is what my selfish heart wants; But now, That is the reoccurring thought that taunts; But now, That is one thing I’ll never re-receive; But now, That is over, and all I can do is grieve; But now, I- But now-

But now,
But then,
But what may be?
No more heartfelt words do I see,
But only recalling of history.
Nylee Mar 10
  it was something
  it is back to
Next page