DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, new poem:)

not the best lens emitted such light
delicate weathers upon previous sights
in a dived listening exile
the carry of the Earth in a swift's mile
in the blink
the week's blur and the paint's sink
raging on red sunsets
raging on yellow's pale sulfur the dreams let
the twirl of winds
on the worlds of the flipped
like in every sky
the one of the days that the one of the nights
fogs in a hurry
what's grey is the face of worry
never know if you don't see for yourself
that the clouds above this roof are the same above that shelf
not always a purple fairytale
August slipped away a coat in the cruelest detail
haven't even begun them storms
the already seen is a scare out of the norm
peace to heart
yet my mind awoke in fear from each start
these bugging times
are the times of memory loss in a hellish crime
the one sun the one full moon
how stars shine mystically reaching future's soon
and me in here as shown
tracing a map of the intuition's unknown
delusion
maybe a disguised mood before the ultimate confusion
the one month of picking up pieces
the dark is long so sleepless to the hope decreases
yet I do know that the same will return in ease and flow
been recalling that for the last two years in a row
the outer skies
now a reason to fly


                                                           ­              -------ravenfeels

DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, the faint of the heart is the vision of blood on a love's dart:-/

mine to love
like a broken bottle of wine trickling from above
mine to lose
the death of leaves with an odor to choose

nerve visions times of sadness
like books left unread and ghosts of madness
the radio silences the alone
the heart of blood grew a heart of bone

speaks in gazes
like a reach of hands before a car crash embraces
stares in orange roses
the lost up space the past dream exposes

all too well prefer rivers not seas
like when the window winds shuffled with car keys
green grass shades and shields
the depressing autumn can be the golorious of all fields

bestest trees of lights in luminaire
like the colors of stolen Augusts and the Jupiter
before the shot of a wounded summer
the listen of violens and the heard bird hummer

now empty lines on empty pages
like a no remember of the highlights of the faces
with the drawn pencil a smoking scent evoked
expressions painted in coffee and lost letters in the cold  


                                                        ­    -------ravenfeels

DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, I hate this color:)

from the couldn't write to the couldn't sleep
almost questioned the revenge from the read
to have the crumbled skin kiss the red
the lost bitten nails got teared and fed
pastel in capital letters on sand
the cruel wave washes in no clock hand
an orange flee for your life
leave a trail to follow and strive


                                                                                  -----ravenfeels

DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, never been more frustrated for not remembering a dream:_(

deja vu brought to view
even better this time that was like the twisted flu

an erase my system moonlighted on me frustrate to repeat
sunset a truck corner an autumn lasting in the backseat

forget that the ocean sailed and orange witches golden
a town of ancient camps imagined clean desires and broken

any subconscious stubborn to hold on inner fantasy?
cause me can't reach a fulfill a journey come to and ending duality

violet unaware a desire everlasting bel air
do dreams come true flasher in sharp not matter mere???

bare me the renaissance a century in ancestry fading memory far  
pieced in my head puzzled mad realization aiming stars

magnetism the hell it means dungeon and dilemma bolds
sharp steeps deepen the voices  running struggles put to the sold


                                                                        -----ravenfeels

I slowly turn orange.

The stress taking over my body
and letting it become anxious
once more

the feeling of being burnt out
slowly takes over

It takes all my sense
and adds discomfort to them
making anxiousness grow
once more

Everythings orange.

I once wrote to mystify a tale of lifetimes crafted in each night and day. So I pray every night as I live a near-death experience before I sleep, and I wonder is it me or my PTSD?

Souls are precious for the soul-less and mine will never be for sale.

There are a million worlds out there and they are all lived here.
Whatever might be the vows you've taken, by the morning they'll all lose their meaning because the night is harsh, and we suffer to sleep, and in our agony, the evil entities creep onto us with their mischievous deals.

There are a million worlds out there and they are all lived here.
My vision's been recalibrated to see every version of what is real, in threads of colors descending, intertwining with my stomach and neck, like a magical key to a world that emanates consciousness in orange and red.

From the brink of death to love and respect, it is all good when I remember, but what can I do when I forget?  

I sleep hoping that the morning will bring back my optimism


Words Of Harfouchism

This is, the Creator's Delight!
The Sun through the rain opens a rainbow of color.
Resounding within layers upon layers
Vibrational tones & hues.

Flowing continuously
Into each Arc & Convenient.

The seven flowering, whirling lights
Spin, emanating their specific color
Thousands upon thousands of tones & hues.

Shinning outward
Purple, Red, Orange, Yellow, Green, and Blue.

Standing together in harmony
Each a Rising Sun
A reflection of a reflection
Repeated in countless rays
Reaching from the rising base
An outstretched  fan.
  
Etched up on my mind
This memory  lingers long past sunset
Within the fan's folds
For here resides the mystery of Light.

With Great understanding. Great wisdom, knowledge and joy.
Love Arise!!
In Unity!  
The Creator's delight!
In Unity!
Love Arise!!
With Great understanding. Great wisdom, knowledge and Joy.

For here resides the mystery of Light.
Within the fan's folds
This memory  lingers long past sunset
Etched upon my mind

An outstretched  fan.
Reaching from the rising base
Repeated in countless rays
A reflection of a reflection
Each a rising sun
Standing together in harmony

Purple, Red, Orange, Yellow, Green  and Blue.
Shinning outward

Thousands upon thousands of tones & hues.
Spin, emanating their specific color
The seven flowering, whirling lights

Into each  Arc & Convenient.
Flowing continuously

Vibrational tones & hues.
Resounding within layers upon layers
The Sun through the rain opens a rainbow of color.
This is, the Creator's Delight!