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Starseed Divine Essence

 A star seed from a time long ago.

Just drifting in this realm of timeless consciousness,
Awaiting the inevitable collision with its twin –
The unification of the universal contract
And the complete opposite,
Yet of the same substance,
Same composition,
Same cloth.

Maybe it’s just the essence we seek,
The essence of Devine
Just as it is the essence of everything,

As simple as returning to essence,
As easy as it is for essence to return.

Creator: Eljoel Adrian Turpin
poets are pain
pain is hurt
hurt is blood
blood is red
red is poppies
poppies are war
war is hate
hate is horrid
horrible things come with a cost
and cost is something not forgotten a lot
and not forgotten is remembered
and remembered is never forgotten
and never forgotten are poems
and poems need poets
and poets are pain
As a kid, i would think the world was ending from the sound of a loud semi-truck. pain is everywhere if you listen hard enough.
I'm trying to finish this famous contemporary poet's
fourth collection, which groans under the weight of
all the glowing blurbs on the back cover.

The famous contemporary poet avoids rhyme as if
it was a downed wire and finds form too restrictive--
hangs her skelly on a hook when she composes.

The famous contemporary poet writes a few poems,
carefully packed in vignettes, snapshots, and musings,
all the excelsior found in any packing crate.

In high school I had an acquaintance, this guy.
He'd toss out something cryptic and then wait
like he'd flipped you a Rubik's Cube.

Everything out of his mouth was a test and he'd give
you this bright smirk, like can you figure it out and
get to where I am, up here?

I would like to meet the famous contemporary poet
and show her one of mine, plain as the flat of my hand
when it breaks her nose and the blood comes.

I am trying to finish the famous contemporary poet's
fourth collection even though it's like watching a movie
with muddy sound, in dialect, no captions.
The stuff that wins Pulitzers usually leaves me cold.
be gentle with us
or don’t.
the stars still fall without permission.

but if you must touch us
touch slow.
for we are poets,
woven from breathless skies
and midnight trembles.

we feel too deeply,
like a violin played in a burning cathedral.
it is not a fault
only a fire
that never learned silence.

we do not fall in love,
we crash.
like galaxies meeting at full speed.
we love like we are dying,
we live like we are fading,
but in our minds
we fly barefoot across constellations.

our hearts
are black roses
growing among the red
soft to the gaze,
sharp to the soul.

you will not see it in our steps
or in the way we drink our tea.
but we are stained glass
already cracked
still catching the light.
and if you press too hard,
we will bleed beauty.

a poet is not always seen
sometimes just a smile in the corner
a sigh in the crowd.
we are everywhere,
soft and wild.

we tell stories
so the silence doesn’t win.
we wear masks
not to hide
but to protect the soft
from the cruel.

we notice the things you forget.
the chipped cup.
the tremble in your laugh.
the way sorrow dresses like strength.

and when we love
we love your entire world.
not just your name
but the way it sits in our lungs.
not just your eyes
but the way they flinch when the past whispers.

we adore the broken
shards glinting red
like stained mirrors
still daring to reflect stars.

we have kissed the devil
with trembling mouths,
left pieces of our soul
in places no light touched
and still returned.

we are fragile
yes
but not weak.
our hearts are ruins and gardens
at once.

so if you come close
come gently.

because when we hurt
we hurt in verses.
and when we fall
we don’t land.
we become.

so this is your only warning,
written in blood and ink:

be gentle with us.
or
watch the beauty bleed.
this poem is inspired by
Lillian May's
be gentle with us

This is my version 2 of this beautiful poem
A Poet
be gentle with us
please.
or don’t.
it is, after all,
your choice.

but know this

we, the poets,
are not built like the rest.
we are the black rose
among gardens of red
too rare,
too delicate,
too dangerous.

we feel with the whole sky.
we love like the sun
is seconds from setting.
we fall,
not softly
but all at once,
like shattered stars
scattering over wounds.

we live small
but think wide.
in our minds,
we are always flying
between memories
and make-believe,
between hurt
and hope.

don’t be deceived
by calm faces.
we wear masks
stitched from poems
and laughter
but behind them
we are velvet chaos,
quiet storms
with bleeding edges.

we, too,
have danced with devils
and kissed pain
like it was wine.
we return
from places
we cannot name
but we carry the fire
in our chests.

a poet could be anyone
walking beside you
a poet could be everyone
breaking silently

we collect fragments
glances,
murmurs,
empty chairs.
we see beauty
in undone hair,
in chipped teacups,
in rain that ruins plans.

and love
when we love,
we don’t stop at skin.
we fall into souls.
into scars.
into shadows.

and when we’re hurt,
we trust slower.
touch softer.
speak less.

so now you know
this heart,
it does not bruise
it blooms in pain.
this soul,
it does not break
it spills light
through its cracks.

so if you come near
and if you care
then please
be gentle with us.
this poem is inspired by
Lillian May's
be gentle with us

This is my version 1 of this beautiful poem
A Poet
Now that I have time to think of the past.
I wished I said yes.

I know you are no good to my delicate soul.
But how could I deny those freckles on your face?
But maybe if I had the chance to play my cards right once more, my memories with you might have been like the depths of the ocean.

I am here when and wherever you might be.
And even though I might not cross your mind.
I wish you nothing more but the best of luck.

Thanks to you, I know what I should settle for.
And our end might have been bitter sweet.
I’ll hold you forever in my arms the ones that you liked so much.
The ones that held your face while you drove your car.

For my memories with you in this lifetime will and will always be my favorite part.

You were the only man I’ve let see the soul that I now guard like it’s the most precious stone.

Maybe later in our lives our eyes will meet again, and I hope that this time our hearts will meet each other.
Thanks to him I guard my heart like it’s a porcelain doll.
Karen Sorto Jul 22
I had a dream
Unbeknownst to me.

As I dreamt the school day ended
The bell shrilled
Beckons to freedom
Ready to head home
Laid my backup next to me
Settle in ready to depart
Until they called

"Karen we need a pic or it didn't happen"
Try to say "No, no I'm camera shy"
"Not to worry it just our white shoes in a circle, no one will ever know"

And so the camera did blink
Trap the moment for all eternity

Just as soon I did regret it
For my bus went on its path
En route as is its routine
And it sure did not wait for one or me

Although I did try
My feet thud along the pavement
Hands outreach
Yelling for it to stop
With no success

All my hopes and dream leaving me all safely inside that zipped cozy backpack of mine

Which just keeps getting further away from me its true destiny. The destination of my arms

And so in my tracks I did stop
Disappointment overwhelming me
What to do
What to do?

Call for help
Pray family comes through

Call anyone that comes to mind
Only one did pick up
Such a surprise that it was my tío Oblin 
But that doesn't change the fact of how huge the blessing was as I pray for help to come

As he arrive a friend in need, needs a ride.  
"Can she come? As she also lost" I say
Tío Oblin replies with a nod and so we go

We wait at quick stop to his house
Me filled with worry asking for relief
Amanda sensed my distress

In a hushed tone
"Just between us"
As she passed me her blunt
Take two puffs

Gotta hide the smoke
"Roll the windows down, tío Oblin can't know doesn't trust the stuff"
She laughed, soft
But roll the windows down she did

Had a plan- beat the bus, get my bag
Tío Oblin said "There might be a chance"

Going too fast
But still not fast enough
Must take a shortcut
Over the river
As the car lifted over water

For sure thought we were done
My life will end among family and a friend
Gravity is gonna sink the car down
We will drown

"Not to worry our velocity keeps us safe we're going to fast to even think of sinking in"

Can't be help I had my doubts
But on we went

All my cares went away once my friend handed me the blunt once again
And this time I didn't say no

Then I woke
In a new dream
Driving back home
Then I see
Familiar coat of grey
My cat
Who stray far from home
In a school yard with none a care
Though I didn't care for how far he's gone
The peace I had when i picked him calm me down back to home we did drive
All safe for we were exactly where we needed to be.
This idea came to me in a dream. Strange where inspiration can hit
CE Uptain Jul 18
I’ve got 1200 poems, all shapes and sizes
Some in verse, others in reprises
I mostly rhyme, 99 percent of the time
I beat up the world and then I whine
A poet’s lament, I ***** about this and that
I post some online, try to start a chat
Sometimes I write them just for fun
Proud of myself when I finish another one
I’m all in, heart, soul and mind
Writing down every word I can find
I try not to go too far, I don’t know when to stop
I just keep going until my pen says drop
CE Uptain Jul 16
Poets write poems
They think and think
Pickup their pens, it’s over
I' sure this is not haiku, at least it's short and to the point. We poets are a funny bunch.
CE Uptain Jul 15
I drink; therefore I write
I write, therefore I am

Words that can’t be spoken
Must be read with an open heart

My heart bleeds words
I am a poet at heart

My pen writes the truth
The truth comes with pain

The thousands of words I’ve written
Are only tears on the page

A hopeless romantic
Makes a good poet

Love is a teacher
I have failing grades

Only death is permanent
Life is just a temporary dream

Love is a fleeting sunset
I live for the night

Dreams are for the dreamers
Reality is for the wicked

Time is for everyone
No one has the time

I am a heartbeat
Skip to my Lou my darling

The past is a place to stay
The future has no vacancies

The winners take the prize
Second place is the first losers

We are all crazy here
It’s not a contest

In my mind I’m a hero
Time loves a hero

A lost soul is a disguise
Only a fool turns and runs

Life waits for no one
I’m already too far behind

If I only had a moment
I could tell you my heart

Tomorrow only brings today
Yesterdays are long gone

Darkness balances the light
Sorrow weighs the heart

Youth is a fleeting dream
Old age is hell

Mysteries are to wonder
Nature is to wander

I can only speak for me
A speech is for everyone

Sentimental values tax the heart
Letting go is the price

I can only write what I feel
Poetry shows my soul to all

I thank my muse
For making me write





I thank my fellow poets for being there. I know you pour out your hearts and bare your souls. I feel your pain and I respect your words.

With passion and heart; **
Sorry for the length of this one. My muse said it had to be this way.
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