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Paul NP Jul 2021
When I breathe my body is relieved.
Where once timber, now limber.
My posture is vibrant and silent.
I'm cleansing my Violet.
Violet where once crown, no longer a frown because
I'm grounding, I'm grounding until my soul is unbound.
I'm breathing, and when I'm breathing laughter reveals me but I focus, I focus and I don't let it seal me.
I'm cooling, I'm cooling, and soothing my soul, so that it may stay open for one and for all.
I meditate
I abbreviate, small glimpses of light.
So that the sugar of my solar may fall out - from my sight.
I am serious, and my breath is sinuous.
It awakens my mind,
But these competitive thoughts: they do not oblige.
So I keep breathing and breathing for full conscious feeling and through this procession my spirit is right.
Spirit pouring out of my pores.
I am rich with inner vision.
What sun shall I bring up to clear division.
What light shall I pour out tonight, Oh Sun
I am ready to stand up for what's right.
Deep Breathing Sessions
John McCafferty Jul 2021
Let fresh conscious breath take hold
when another day awaits in present tense.
Expand belly and chest for a stronger posture stretch, as our sun unfolds to shine on us below.
Unknown forms take shape with whispers of support to maintain your core beliefs and direct identity.

You are new too but your eyes remain the same, even when we vary as our inclinations change.
Certain keys can help create a sweeter harmony, tune into stable tones which hit those silent notes.
Time is vast and so the flesh grows old, but decisions we make frame our future states.
A higher sense of self holds longer term goals, corresponding with tolerance promotes fairer play.
(@PoeticTetra - instagram/twitter)
Paige White Jun 2020
Waiting for lights out
Cicadas sing a higher tune
And the gulf’s posture is a whirl

Twining moon flower vines
Feed caterpillars new wings
And grow very holy

Morning glory blooms
Shadow the hidden frog
Until with a hop he leaves
BLT posture challenge
(Possibly refine later into haiku)
Karisa Brown Dec 2018
Punish me
Don't lash out
Take me
Don't drown me
With doubt

Have another taste
My loves like *******
Pure and innocent
The aftertaste will
Stay with you for days
And then you'll want another taste
Come back
I'll give you seconds
Thirds and fithes
Come and get me
Give me your kiss

I'll bite your lips off
Twist them into my wrath
Hold you down secretly
Until there's nothing left
A Simillacrum Oct 2018
Icy burn, an ache
both dull
and knife point.
Am I going
insane?

Cervical, thoracic,
lumbar, and sacral
tension, or
is it
elasticity?
Am I going
crazy?

Dark days, I try to run
away from myself,
just to sniff in circles,
distracted, burning
daylight.

Good days, I practice
all the basic moves
a mixture
of modern living
and disregard
made me forget.

Guess I'm pretty broken.
Isn't the concept of
properly aligned
posture fun?
ok just an note to self
your supposed word friend
interview


uhm

they sent you an message
in your private box
using that

uhm

we will call it *****
because we want to

on any other occasion we would
make her pay

we we know she bounces around
on site that is
we also know about the mom and
pop show
what an great family putting
as he lost focus on his art
he pulled out his sling
pulled from his ouch
skipping stone
from
the
stream

thought to Him self
your words could never
crucify me

who are you with these words

why must you trouble me

where could we possible to from here

let the night make the morrow


it is your peace


I
seek
?























...
..
.
question
mark
...
..
.
Sanctimonious priests and their **** Biretta hats.
Tell me of me of gods praise and a world in its hard collapse.
Where were you when I needed you.
Breaking hearts I suppose.

Wilderness and forests breach out across the hills.
Sunshine and rainbows will bless our day begin.
But I'm not watching anymore.
There's no need to get preachy.

And I reek of desperation for another mans touch.
And there's none to hear me scream I've got a pretty good hunch.
Do you even seem to care?
It's not very nice over here.

Harbor buses ship Asian businessmen back over gentle seas.
The city is alive against the saintly laden breeze.
I reach out to the stars.
They turn away and blush.

And I'll be ****** if I ever admit its not you its me.
And I'll keep up this facade, I'm over here and I'm free.
My body wanes past the flowers.
Their beauty turns to coal.
You're an aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaalieeeeeeeeeeeeeen

— The End —