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Man 2d
She said,
"I'm looking for someone,
Looking for something."
I asked,
"What is it?"
She replied,
"I can't exactly remember."
I questioned,
"How will you know you've found it?"
She said,
"It's something one can't forget,
Someone never forgotten."
I asked further,
"Well, who is it?"
She said,
"I don't really know,
But I think I've seen them before.
There's an image in my head
And an idea in my mind,
They feel innate to me."
"Are they, though?"
She didn't answer,
"I think if I just do
As my parents have done
And their parents have done,
I'll be all the closer."
I just shook my head and laughed.
"Sorry, I'm not laughing at you.
I just find it funny.
You say you're searching
For something or someone,
And you only have the slightest idea
Of what that is."
"I know, it's a bit silly."
"Why, they could be
Talking to you right now
And you would never know it then!"
"Maybe, maybe not.
I'd like to think
I would recognize it, recognize them."
"Well, you don't think
You're special do you?"
"No more so than anyone else."
"So, how would you know?"
"I guess I just believe,
I have faith in that
Hope shall deliver me.
I try my hardest
To be the best I can be,
I always try to be honest
And act respectfully.
I love with all my heart
And shelter it from nobody."

"Ah, but do you reach?
Do you search your mind
As much as the tangible world?
Perhaps what you're looking for
Can't be found
Without exploring within first.
Perhaps this is the only place
It exists.
Maybe it is a mystery
Confused with fantasy,
Maybe it is a fantasy
Confused with mystery.
Perhaps it can
Only be discovered
By any one individual.
Maybe by elusion,
Made by illusion.
Perhaps it is,
Perhaps it isn't,
Maybe you're just not worthy.
Perhaps you've already eclipsed it."
I had said.
"I'm looking for someone,
Looking for something."
I said.

"What is it?"
She said.
"It's something one can't forget,
Someone never forgotten."
I said.
"Yes, but who remembers?
And what memories?"
She said.
"It's something that can't be held,
But something one must hold.
It's something that can't be told,
But something one must tell.
It's like the melody of a song,
Like the lyrics sung.
It is only as old
As it is young."
I said.
"What is it?"
She said.

"What is it?"
Man Nov 30
When one self-medicates,
Sometimes they grab the nostrum
Rather than the cataplasm.
Trying to clean the well, they mistake belladonna for myristica.
Perhaps it was the region or the season,
Maybe the water table atop which they were building.
Were it a town,
Perhaps its citizen lacked hygiene
Or had no care to maintain things.
Maybe they sparsely talked things over
And thought little of one another.
Of the many circumstances,
It could've been the building materials
Or the architects.
The dictates we lay out
For ourselves and those around us
Rarely are truly followed
In the case of relations between each other,
And typically less so
In the case of the larger world.
But we keep trying!

Inspired by a comment from another poet, badwords.
:)
lola Nov 28
To find yourself,
You must fall into yourself.
For others, a hard landing is due,
But what you'll find is nothing new.

I fall down, an endless pit,
A spiral deep, where shadows sit.
I may not know who i am, i may just be an endless fall.
maybe everyone fakes a landing
There are many opposites in this world:
light and dark,
And love and hate,
bliss and pain,
And Life and Death.
What is Life and Death?

The concept of Life and Death is millenniums of years old,
And the answer is different for every individual you ask
They may say that life is a short experience that every individual goes through
They may say that its a blessing that we must take advantage of
They may say that its a curse that we all must suffer
They may say that we’re here for a specific predetermined reason
And they may say that its nothing until we make something from it
There are many theories and beliefs of what happens after
Some say that you go to another world where you can live in peace and happiness
Another of distress and suffering
Or you just go through another life in a new body under a new name
Or your soul inhabits another animal or object
Or it remains just wandering, bodilessly
And many speculations more…
Then there are others who may say that there is simply nothing.

Life
Life is when your soul has a body to control,
A mind to inhabit,
Dreams to fulfill
It allows that spirit to interact with other spirits to build and create
Life is full and stimulating and always moving
Life is a course of events,
One action impacts the next impacts the next impacts the next…
Life grows and flourishes
Life develops and changes every day and every second and every moment
You have the ability to make your world a utopia
The choices you and others make can impact the next
But those choices won’t always lead to success
Sometimes they’ll lead you to failure
Misery
Disappointment
And sometimes you won’t always get to choose what happens
Life is unexpected
But we have retellings of other’s lives
Rules and guides on how to live our own
Regulations and laws (that aren’t always followed)
Rewards and punishments
Life is a blessing
Life is a curse
Life is everywhere
Life is now.

Death
Death is when your conscious leaves your physical state for eternal time.
We haven’t yet met death, but it still feels familiar
Do we see death in between our stages of wake and sleep?
Or in moments of shock after impact?
Or maybe when our heart drops during a fall?
Its funny being agnostic because no theory of life after death fully satifies
I’d imagine that right before death, a melancholious chill would spead over,
Inabiling every part of you
Segment by segment
Limb by limb
Memory by memory
Then you and your soul would be let free
No longer having to carry the weight of your body, the weight of your thoughts,
An infinite dreamlike state, except with no pictures or visions.
A peaceful, dreamless, light, nothingness.
A freedom from life.
But maybe death is different
It’s interesting being agnostic because no theory of life after death feels sure
Thats the thing, we don’t fully know
Thats why its so scary, it’s unknown
And you can’t undo it, you can’t go back
Death is interminable
Death is inevitable
Death everywhere
Death is the end.

So what is Life and Death?
They are…

Written for a poetry contest between friends a while ago with the topic: "A contrast between life and death"
I have, from time to time, heard this simple phrase:
“The road to hell is paved with good intentions.”
It’s always puzzled me.                 It seems illogical.
No, the road to hell isn’t paved at all.
It’s an old road, constructed when the first stars lit up the sky. It’s been here longer than us.
And we’ve used it. Many of us, over and over.
The road, once pristine, has seen the footprints of a billion souls.
And so, it’s cracked, withered, decayed. The dust, which was once cobbles, blown into the wind,
never seen again.
In fact, it’s not a road anymore.
Roads are strict, they instruct where to go.
But the road to hell is so distraught that it guides no more.
Loose stones are all about, and any semblance of a path is gone.

The empire has forgotten the road.
There is no surveyor coming. No highwaymen traveling horseback.
We’re on our own.

We’ll have to find our own way to hell.
Shorter poem this time, more emphasis on spacing.
Ego of Stone Oct 18
It's too vivid for a dream
I saw my death, walking cold
Upon my grave, beneath the fold.
I haven't yet seen the best of me;
Now, my emotions have gone gray,
And doubt is all that's left to say.

I live in rhythm, seeking redemption,
Knowledge, and freedom from this mortal tension.
Is death the end, or does it start
The journey to cultivate the immortality
I hold no thread to reality
For now, I am dead, yet I still see me.

Will my memories remain or fade,
As I walk the line 'twixt light and shade?
Between life and death,
Wondering what lies ahead.
It about being lost in Dream that feel so real........ "
Fabiconni Oct 16
The sun sets and rises the very same way
the moon shines and fades the darkness away
humans lies and lies in a very upright way
nature digests it all with the smell of clay
realism was the truth of the earth's way
these meagre liars lies and dances on play
their soul is ***** and gets the deserved slay
The Almighty gave us realism as the only way
to live, to see, to speak and keep these away
i too have jumped into this but now gave away
living with lakes, forest and morning prayers spray
being truthful to the soul is the only way
life has become beautiful, blissful of a tray
green has been added, what removed has been grey
Fabiconni Oct 16
one walks, eats, sees things and their offspring
deals with what has to be done and sharply blunt
the broken vacuum cleaner, making the dinner
writing orders to mabel, washing, bookbinding and reading the novel
then one chase the freedom, that too out of boredom
one moves and moves away, to smell the loneliness clay
sitting there by a lake, one lights up the flame
one wanders with stillness, even darker than the darkness
they just left me here, now i have to go where
the water flows, sun rises and comes the morning surprises
one cooks the morning meal to **** the hunger ordeal
Lahsa was one's choice, one eats and rejoice
kissing the green grass, one adores nature's class
holding compass in one's hand, one sees the forest grand
peace was one all needed, happiness only one greed
outward stress all burned, one peacefully returned
Fabiconni Oct 15
Living a very simple and frugal life
Holding a card  of own maxim hike
Half  a pint filled with  thin wine
Rest living a water drinker life
It's serenity is same at two and five
Buzzing is admired in the bee hive
It flowed in the unique picturesque style
Reflecting my aspirations within my psych
I walked with it on my bike
Found it running after a while
Paving it's way even from gap pointlike
Nourishing the green with crystalline
It Moved forward with  fluidly delight
Water is pure
Fabiconni Oct 14
It only comes, it will not go,
feel is given once you stick,
endure the blow that for slow,
regain the power of realm kick;
better be the rain of glow,
illuminate the light to the thick,
call the power of fellow,
build the actual brick by brick.
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