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Ken Pepiton Jul 22
Be assured, the sun always rises
through out morality.
Re, nach einmal, crows caw,
and race down the valley
laughing, beating the call from the roosters.
Re joyed be,
re joyed being, noise of life in morning,
caws of crows,
calling crows.
and tweets and peeps of tiny things,
wake us all to be once more
users of light made in life,
doing duties,
crowing and cawing and
stretching and yawning and such.

oh, what a day!
Mitwoche, aber mas, mucho mas,
este dia, este dia
Vvoden's tag aqui, we rejoice
and be glad as on any given Wednesday,

as though it were like any other fine day
to begin in,
in relation to light letting
letters let the sense
of life seem true, sure things, can't loose,
choose, this day,
miércoles,
realizes its possibility… being the basis,
the one event that must occur
as in the night,
the earth must turn,
doing the actual cycle of living
in quanta mediated reality, ones in order,
this day
digital squawking alarms, flashing
red-lights and green, signifying
oomph enough, trickle
charged to aid my being connected…

to the task at hand,
this is the given
Wednesday,
I choose to pay a whole day worth
of rapt attention… drawing on
power stored in darkness,
dripping into day, clepsydra wise.
Wiping sleepy from woken eyes, to see the old new.
Good morning, my fellow tricklers of the charge that makes us think,
we make life work. In letting words say all thy mind might wish.
Farah Taskin Jul 21
During the downpour
At gloomy nightfall
In a misty morn
At the silvery and solitary noon
Beneath a star-spangled sky
When my heart is peaceful
or sorrowful
Then
the poems embrace
my contemplation
It's a bad poetic bureaucracy
Asymmetry and idiocracy
Dogmatism and orthodoxy
It's a bad poetic bureaucracy
Rationality victim hypocrisy
Decent in indecency
Dissenting voice
Modulated mute
It's a bad poetic bureaucracy
Don't be afraid you dude
Emergency exit you can use
After fusing the lights
They use
Theme - Inner Peace

Getting nauseous of feelings
have dilemma about concealing, presence hypothetically that's my paranoia
or just changing of myocardia
-js
Kitten Yvad Feb 20
Many nights we prayed
With no proof, anyone
could hear

In our hearts a hopeful song
We barely understood

Now, we are not afraid
Although we know there's much to fear


We were moving mountains
Long before we knew
we could

There can be miracles
When you believe
Though hope is frail, it's hard to ****


Who knows what miracles you can achieve?
When you believe, somehow you will; You will
when you believe


In this time of fear
When prayer so often
proves in vain
Hope seems like the summer bird Too swiftly flown
away


Yet now I'm standing here
My hearts so full, I can't explain


Seeking faith and speakin' words
I never thought I'd say


There can be miracles
When you believe When you believe

Though hope
is frail, it's hard to ****


Who knows
what miracles you can achieve?  You can achieve.
When you
believe, somehow
you will;You will when you believe



A-shir-ra I'a-do-nai ki ga-oh ga-ah
A-shir-ra I'a-do-nai ki ga-oh ga-ah
Mi-cha-mo-cha ba-e-lim adonai

Mi-cha-mo-cha ne-dar-ba-ko-desh
Na-chi-tah v'-chas-d'-cha am zu ga-al-ta

Na-chi-tah v'-chas-d'-cha am zu ga-al-ta
A-****-ra, a-****-ra, A-****-ra
A-shir-ra I'a-do-nai ki ga-oh ga-ah


A-shir-ra I'a-do-nai ki ga-oh ga-ah
Mi-cha-mo-cha ba-e-lim adonai

Mi-cha-mo-cha ne-dar-ba-ko-desh
Na-chi-tah v'-chas-d'-cha am zu ga-al-ta

Na-chi-tah v'-chas-d'-cha am zu ga-al-ta
A-****-ra, a-****-ra, A-****-ra


There can be miracles
When you believe
Though hope is frail
Its hard to ****
Who knows what miracles
You can achieve
When you believe
Somehow you will

Now you will
You will when you believe...

You will when you believe
From the musical, The Prince of Egypt, a song written and composed by Babyface & Schwartz Stephen Lawrence.

Prince of Egypt is the first movie I can ever remember seeing and it its music is still profoundly impactful to me. Though clearly not an orginal work, it is very poetic and thought I would post it; As a classic of somekind :)
maria Feb 20
I feel like I want to write something new
but I can't write anything
that's not about you
written on Febuary 2021
© ,Maria
fray narte Feb 16
no i am not kind, i will pull your heart out of your chest — stain it with fleeting moments of softness before running it over with my train-wreck hands. i will pick you wild roses — they all die in my palms; maybe so will this love. i will kiss you and hold you, as we slow-dance our way to disaster; all we can do is sigh and crumble like greek ruins dying in a modern city. is it so bad, then, loving you with the kind of love that breaks and terrifies, and leaves you hurting and burning and wanting more? is this so bad, then, when it's the only way i've ever loved, and the only way i've ever known?
Orakhal Feb 9
its morphing
to form your inner ideals and feelings

projected at
and reflected back at you

from the field of infinite intelligence

in coherence to your body hum

things are made

to be

in the space of your own mind
Orakhal Feb 9
to see
my self there

i looked
thru your eye

as mine

to scan
its sense of betrayal

to my sanity
unveiled

a wish we birth together
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