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Dylan McFadden Feb 2020
Among the myrtles –
Yes, in between
A green, so fertile! –
A King was seen

Atop His stallion –
A chestnut red –
As His battalion
Patrolled ahead

Throughout all the earth
Both far and wide
Observing the mirth
But birthed by pride

The report came back,
“At rest! At rest!
By behest of Black!
Asleep; possessed!”


---

Among the myrtles –
Yes, in between
The deep, the gurgle! –
A King was seen

Atop His stallion –
A chestnut red –
As His battalion
Then stormed ahead

Throughout all the earth
Both far and wide
To silence the mirth
But birthed by pride

The report came back,
“Alas! Alas!
The quake; the crack!
Judgment has passed!”


---

Among the myrtles –
Yes, in between
A green, so fertile! –
A King was seen

Atop His stallion –
A chestnut red –
As His battalion
Awoke the dead

Throughout all the earth
Both far and wide
His reign making mirth
As death had died!

The report came back,
“At last! At last!
The captives are back!
Returned at last!”


---

At last! At last!
The captives are back!
Returned at last!
Returned at last…

.
Inspired by Zechariah 1:7-17
Ash Feb 2020
My heart breaks in seventeen different directions.
The white realm between my eyes glares back at me
Initially, I think he’s trying to hurt me
Forcing me to stay
But then hope effervesces in 1 new direction
Up, out.
Stay and feel he says
You need to heal he says
He's just a mar stapled upon a pure surface
He's just blank and broken
Clean and vast and warm and open
And can’t I be this wall
And can’t I just be free
From all this pain that's hindering me
“Stay” he says
“You'll never be the same” he says
And so he holds me
Compelling me to stay in the most rugged of places
Shifting when its time for me to move forward
He wasn't trying to hurt me
He just wanted to help me
Relieve the scar I painted for myself
When I cast my burdens upon the shelf
And never bothered to look
Never bothered to feel
And chose to reject what was so devastatingly real
I’m enamored by this blank space
I’m mesmerized by my own old pain
I want to leave but I finally listen and stay
The white wall becomes me
We hold each other’s gaze
And we stay and feel and then move away
To a new pose where the false okayness
Is really okay.
Toni Feb 2020
I often dream of a place
Far from home
Deep in the woods
I’m sure you know.
Away from the people
The buildings
The noise
Where the witches dance
And the fae rejoice
In their absence.
I can’t keep the woods out of my head, I just want to dance under the moon and laze away my days in grassy knolls.
Karen Lang Feb 2020
I am here
Where else can I go?
My mind can pull me
My mind can take me
My mind can confuse me
But I stay in stillness
I stay focused on my breath
I stay in this moment
I am here
Nowhere else to be
With life
With it all
With nothing
I am here
Presence is a practice.  So practice. :)
Pagan Paul Jan 2020
.
There is a presence here,
can't you feel it crackling
through the evening air?
Creeping into the mind
as an invasion by consent.

A candle flame flickers
as an errant string thrums,
a note of announcement
and precedent to an army
set to join the invasion.

There is a presence here,
can't you feel it cloying
at open waiting ears,
seeping over the babble
as an intrusion most welcome.

A chord breaks silence
as a voice slow gently hums
a prelude to old new songs,
an accompaniment to a jangle
as the errant string conforms.

There is a presence here,
can't you hear it calling
to the blood in your veins,
freezing the moments solid,
speaking at corpuscular levels.

An excitement of particles
agitate an expectant atmosphere,
curved air starts to resonate
an apocryphal truism that
there is a Presence … here.


© Pagan Paul (15/01/20)
.
A poem inspired by Presence open mic nite.
A place that gifts me 10 mins a week to
perform my poetry to an audience.
10 of my most appreciated minutes per week.
.
Alice Jan 2020
Am I ready yet

Or do I keep waiting?

Tomorrow sounds good.
Tomorrow, the following day will sound good.

Eventually, yesterday would sound better.


All except today.
Does today even exist?
I live in memories or future anxieties.

All I know now is what happened, or what's to come.

There is no presence.
I just want to feel present.
Where did today go?

Oh well, good night again.
Is this even a poem? Living in your head gets exhausting
دema flutter Jan 2020
your presence is
my favourite
warmth,

your touch
feels like
an extension
of mine,

your smile
is as pure
as that of a child
MSunspoken Jan 2020
I may be mute but I can promise you this,
I know better than most,
of this long dark abyss

I watch from afar,
all the mistakes that you make
-
and how you hastily cover them
adding icing on the cake

Though I may not be perfect
and my throat is made of ice,
I have a voice of silk,
simple yet precise

A house made of brick
I stand strong in the presence ,
of the tiny cardboard cookie-cutters
-
built weak without foundations

so kiss my hands
and bow at my feet,
bending to my will\
and admitting your defeat
mr moon man Dec 2019
Her presence was like standing in the moonlight, both beautiful and calming. While I wanted to stay in her attendance forever like an artist wishes for the moon to stay and never greet the sun that is to arrive. I soon come to realize that, like a child wishing for his nights in the moon beams to never end, staying in her light would soon be no more as I watch the inevitable moon fall as the sunrise peeks over the horizon.
just something that reflects personal matters....it felt appropriate here as a way to help others who lost their woman (or man) of the moonlight
solfang Dec 2019
let me pause
these daydreams,
and wake up to a reality
where it was never as it seems,
and you were never there to begin
the truth hits you harder when you realise these feelings should never exist in the first place.
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