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Chad Young Dec 2020
O celestial mountain, let me climb the stairs of patience
that the immortal front may be birthed anew.
Cover thyself with the robe
of the Ancient Root,
and with the Hood of the Worlds,
that you may hearken to the
winds of mystery
and the tremors of the stock of oneness.
Suffer time
to pass thee by
that the eternal sun
may shine upon thee.
Let the Mother of Eternity
give thee nourishment
at the seat
of powerlessness.
silent meditation
Autumn Ehrhardt Jun 2020
I don’t think I am writing
Anything of consequence
So is it worth it, emit

I watch the news I hear
That millions are without work
What can I do with this, misfit

I sit in my little ivory tower
Worried about my little bit
I don’t know how to, unfit

Is the world about to fall
Will the leaders stand up tall
I hope that good comes, sunlit

Fortunate I feel still in awe
I am living through a pandemic
I never thought I’d be, submit

I will manage to keep calm
And try to reach a bit
Writing is all I can do, *******
This poem is one of a series responding to the time and the pandemic
John H Dillinger Nov 2019
Numbing comfort bubbles (are),
tools of a privileged struggle,
like staring, lost, into the flames.
They keep me warm,
so; throw on the bodies, the trees,
it's all the same.



There's one flowing stream
that never dries up,
babbling drugs sports desire.
If I don't douse myself
from this stream, babbling bubbles,
I'll catch on fire.

But then, eventually,
we all burn on His pyre.
Cold comfort,
keeping others warm.
CarolineSD Nov 2019
All of these fires of the heart
Burning on the surface like the last remnants of
Of a civilization nearly gone;

Huddled forms tending flames that
Beat back the dark
Through short hours
Stretched along a dying road.

Ever since I was a little girl
I knew
We would all leave here,
Alone.

Are we really anything more than scattered bones
Across the open undulation of the plains?
The scavengers stretch their wings into the sky and dive
To sift through the fragments of life we
Leave behind,
No more significant than fallen leaves along the forest floor
Before the snow comes;

Yet, there is warmth in my skin so strong
It wants to burst forth and form a new star out of love;
Something that hangs above this pain
And calls rivers out to run
Across the dust of nothingness
Before the sun dies, at last.

And yet, it is not enough

To halt the trains of time.
My children and I
Sit outside a hollow station by the iron tracks
And keep these flames alight;

Their laughter,
How it
Colors the sky
Red and orange
And their souls hold back the night.

Still, beyond the shadows of our bodies at the edges of the fire,

The darkness is a tide.

What words should we speak into the void so that it does not

Rise?
“He walked out in the gray light and stood and he saw for a brief moment the absolute truth of the world. The cold relentless circling of the intestate earth. Darkness implacable. The blind dogs of the sun in their running. The crushing black vacuum of the universe. And somewhere two hunted animals trembling like ground-foxes in their cover. Borrowed time and borrowed world and borrowed eyes with which to sorrow it.”

“You have to carry the fire."
I don't know how to."
Yes, you do."
Is the fire real? The fire?"
Yes it is."
Where is it? I don't know where it is."
Yes you do. It's inside you. It always was there. I can see it.”

Cormac McCarthy, The Road
JP Goss Sep 2019
Take to the skies, your leader dreams, limit the attitudes
That weigh you down for, remember, punishment is grounding
On what stone you find purchase,
Know your head may float on−
Anything you want today figures in dollars and sense,
For crimes unknown between me and Adam,
Anything you want tomorrow, by God, is recompense;
Till the earth from whence you came−
Sanity and health are luxuries to the virtual yeoman
Who wishes day after day to see those legs rise,
One after the other, fancies of make−believe clash with
Laws of take−believe, of grit and wealth−
They say, live happy, make your destination,
Your goals, your strength, your perseverance
To really think success off
The table of what you can achieve
And place more stock in the invisible hands that
Usher a wretch like me−
Teamwork, the qualitative change needed to quit a pride
No words can succeed to encase,
Focuses its hatred when given positive chance
(But never can quite dull the edge of self−worth)
Your victories today are given answer: limit
Love to fullest soar, my actions, my purpose
Of leader−effort greatly cherish
What all the Haves deem mine−
Let not sin color your pay,
For they know best; slaves dare not reach
Beyond what they imagine we celebrate
Strung aligned by ebbs and flows
Of mankind’s cold regard
And, in humbled separation, find we move together−
This life we do determine to be endlessly new,
110% unreal work, supernatural labor,
Why wait for the ineffable dreams, the !!! dreams,
When they are nothing but a hurtful difference,
Hard to give up, hard to ring true−
Every person, me, you, suffice, surfeit on discipline,
Put, now, what priorities they’ve found better
Toward the hard line of the bottom,
The earth, quick with clouds pitch
Cooling the heads as the cores explode
Every winter, a winner opportunity
As raging ice and hellfire forests
Dot the mountains called I−
The successful follow those who’ve achieve
Those leader dreams, the calmly rational, the spoken articulate
To its first day of life after disaster−
I’m doing time, wasting mine at the boss’ door:
Expect to keep your passions in the heart,
And off those tired, sordid fingertips.
Taken from refrigerator magnets at my place of work.
Burning Lilacs Jul 2019
It's as though through letting ideas slip away into nothingness
I've died countless times:
unrealised, unfulfilled, unsatisfied.
Their last scream of agony devoid of substance,
reverberates through me,
Reminding me that
I've neglected to death that which could've filled me.

I sit alone quietly watching,

An ego of sand trickles down
each grain a like on a tweet, a seen video.
Aren't they really smart? The people who make these things?
Promised to make me golden,
And I am, indeed.
Just as cold and saleable as that.

NO no,

I keep trying to claw my way out.
It's taking too long, why isn't it working?
Hands getting weaker?
Nails dulling out?
Or maybe I've never had anything sharp on myself to begin with.

The worst is that I'm not alone in this
And most of you seem content.
Living being made to obey
With grains of dopamine being thrown around
as we dance to catch each in your mouths.
Not much different from these poor animals at the circus.

Let's cut this short.

Aim big and don't expect a praise or prize soon after you start.
People aren't brands and brands aren't people.
Let's learn to enjoy the ride more than the destination.
Good luck, I believe in me,
I believe in you.
Good luck good luck good luck, remember you're a knife that just needs sharpening sometimes.
Alek Mielnikow Mar 2019
I hate realizing I forgot to take my
meds. I don’t mind taking them. I need
them to pretend I can function. And
forgetting until the next morning can
be brutal, but I get right up and start
again. But when I realize they didn’t
slide down my throat and enter my
bloodstream in the middle of the day,
or halfway through the time of night
when magic unfolds and destruction
happens, I’m reminded of something.

I’m reminded that these small, white
discs with an indent down the middle
are the only thing keeping me from
climbing the tallest building and
taking a deep breath. I’m reminded
that I’m not in control. I’m reminded
that I wouldn’t want it if I had it.


-
by Aleksander Mielnikow
JS CARIE Oct 2018
To openly relinquish vulnerabilities, having found love will likely be present in advance

Being in love, will challenge defenses making present vulnerabilities

Fating the present after liberating vulnerabilities, ensures a relief to drop defenses, and a willingly surrender to love
Before During After Vulnerable powerlessness love present
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