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f 3d
bearing the world upon your shoulders
crippling to grasp and smothering to your soul
is this world even worth it
when there is so much darkness
atlas telamon, enduring atlas
the fates born and fostered by you
past, present, and future are
within your arms
the weight is magnificent
the torments and sins of this world displayed so glaringly to you
the pains of humanity are your pains
dread of uncertainty haunt your mind
regrets are
everflowing
yearning for past love in present time with the future a fog, but known too well
as history repeats itself over and over and over
right before your very eyes
you see a glimpse of light
effervescent
fleeting moments of light in this world do occur
but this
this light is strong, it is powerful, but as imposing as
dandelion tufts in a field of grass
like nothing you’ve ever seen before
it takes your breath away
this light is welcoming, like a laugh, but
dare you look?
dare you entertain something more?
you let yourself gaze and behold
a familiar beauty
distant memories and uncoordinated thoughts rush in
the screams of this world
the moans of your own soul
and you realize there is no darkness without light and no light without darkness
it never was and never will be
for all the magnificence this world has to offer
this light was the most beautiful you’ve ever seen
and you look
you really look
for more than a millennia you’ve shouldered the world
the inhabitant’s sins growing to become almost unbearable
the horrors manifested in such barbaric ways
in fact in many ways, you saw the earth was simply
a manifestation of your own inner self
you had become something different in carrying the weight of this world upon your shoulders
or were you always this way?
you are almost blinded with the light
and you falter
you shrug
you feel your shoulders lower, ever so slightly
this small shift in your stance causes the entire earth to quake
earth’s oceans thrown into a multitude of hurricanes
glaciers fall and cause cataclysms of avalanches
earth is no longer recognizable
and yet your soul remains intact
thunderstorms and lightning light up the heavens
dark clouds resemble thick smoke
a battle of the gods
giant gusts of wind rush over entire bodies of earth in the time it takes to whisper your name
violent tornados whisk the contents of the landscapes away
turning shards of ice into lethal weapons
and jungles into something akin to what was once the oceans
deserts into blenders where sand is more like billions of bullets
and swamps into sinkholes the size of continents
and through this all, happening in only a matter of moments, you worry you’ll blink
and the light will dim, or vanish entirely
what if the light was a dream?
but if felt like the realest thing you’d ever known
so unabashedly existing, almost in spite
darkness made this light stronger
this light gave darkness its origin
and as the flames of this world flood your peripheral vision
the light in your pupils
you inhale
and you blink
as your eyes open, you sigh out huge relief
the light is still there
and in breathing, your shrug becomes full
the world inferno crashes from your shoulders
the poles of the earth leaving your grasp
plummeting into the cosmos of eternity
embraced into the arms of another orbit unknown to you
out of your vision and off of your shoulders
your soul remains intact
and with great effort, and patience, you place your hands upon your knees
and you stand
to see the light in its full glory is to know that this world never meant anything at all
and you inch forward
for the first time since almost even you could remember, you’re not stagnant
and as you get closer, you marvel at how the light shines the exact same, not darker
not even brighter
you had wondered if you would see the light more clearly once you were closer
but no
this light existed in spite of you, in spite of the heavens, or hell, or the conception of this world
and your arms reach out, trembling
your breath shuddering
your skin is on fire, and covered from head to toe in goosebumps, you feel the winds of time breathe on your neck
suddenly the light envelops you
your eyes well into tears and your body quakes from your sobs
as did the earth
silly earth
no truer joy could you imagine
no stronger ecstasy could one feel
your body relaxes, and you breathe in sync with this light
you vow never to leave the safety of this light
if you had to carry this on your shoulders forevermore, you would
and you would not falter
and you would not shrug
your eyes already covenanted to never look away from the light, but to marvel together at the universe
in harmony, you move as one
your breaths and laughter creating a symphony of sound and light
a rose nebula
amongst many, yours and the lights story would be a sacred teaching, passed through the ages of humanity
written in stone
carved into the rocks of our planet
told through ritualistic dances by shamans
shouted before the battles of vikings
transcribed by the poets of all time
made into lullabies for the offspring to come
your very own song of solomon
eventually this story, your story, would turn into fable and myth
the earth so far removed from your presence
galaxies away
no matter who believed your story, or thought of it as a simple bedtime fable
it was always told as
the epoch genesis of love

4 - 24 - 2024
Zywa 3d
Time is fluid, here

on the plane, we are floating --


in moments of now.
Novel "The Moor's Last Sigh" (1995, Salman Rushdie), chapter (4-) 19

Collection "Low gear"
Bekah Halle Apr 3
Stillness is where it all begins,
In quietness and rest, you will gain life again.
In release and trust is where it continues.
In standing, with arms wide open,
In outstretching hands,
In exhaling,
In breathing,
In being,
In.
Be.
Bekah Halle Apr 1
She passes faster than we can grasp,
We try to capture her, firm in our clasp.
But she runs right through us,
Savouring, she becomes our mistress,
She rules indiscriminately,
Sometimes, not always, distressingly.

Oh, mistress Time, full of beauty,
Admired, best in present, free and fruity.
If we don't, we mourn,
And if only despaired, she will scorn.
But now, she comes alive,
Invigorated, we thrive.

Face to face, she tells tales,
Of the dreams; places we’ll sail.
Future fantasy, we indulge,
Temptress Time, let us divulge,
Our secrets,
Worn down, we slip; more regrets.
Spicy Digits Mar 4
My voice is not sick.
My heart does not lack charge
And my fingers rest beautifully.

My wires are impeccably engineered.
My brain is alight with knowing
And my belly, understanding.

Tell me, what does yours say?
Does it lie to you?

Our voices are not sick
Our words are not misguided.
We simply know you well,
And suffer for it.
Datore Fargo Feb 16
My closet,
at one point,
was filled,
with,
band tshirts,
skeletons,
and the reason,
to live.
My bedroom floor,
it was littered,
with mismatched socks,
skinny jeans,
converse,
some to my knees,
and combat boots,
even though,
granddaddy was in the navy,
and visited Nagasaki.
Now I’m a hippie,
that subconsciously,
does the hair flip,
and people,
well,
they think,
I have a twitch.
Still own converse,
but I just don’t know,
how to let go,
of my past,
to tell the truth.
At least now,
I’m the reason,
to live.
My closet,
is spacious,
and it doesn’t,
have a door.
But it’s still full,
of band tshirts,
skeletons,
and the reason,
to live?
I’m on the run.
Spicy Digits Jan 30
Wonder, our little boy
Saw it unfold and leaned in.

The story was a concave husk,
Dried of juice and void of vein
Until our boy Wonder intervened
Lifted up a Life dry-cleaned
And christened it Supreme.
Ander Stone Jan 21
whispers in the wind
of a remembered
tomorrow
that will never
come to pass.

shades of broken glass
trapped in the crimson
soles of tired feet
break apart in
a multitude of
echoing patterns.

a hunger for something
without shape,
without substance,
without the traced outline
of neverending desperation,
howls deep within the throat.

bottled yesterdays
shattered on the marble
of ever-shimmering amnesia
creaking like bones
inside an hourglass on the edge
of an untangling rope.

all that is left is to hope
for a quick bite of the river
that turns all tomorrows
into forgotten yesterday.
Bekah Halle Jan 19
My walk to freedom;
There is no tomorrow.
Yesterday is gone.
There is only here, now.
Let the forest speak:
The mountains and the water,
Hear their voices, they become
pathways to wholeness, giving you
Freedom in thought.
Drithena Jan 17
The sweet words that once came from my mouth
Directed with someone else before everything went south
Now my heart is full of questions and reasonable doubt
I don't know which one is true or what I believe about

Now, I met someone new and he is definitely lovely
I can go everywhere and much more freely
I'm experiencing the same feeling before but much stronger
I hope this time my feelings will stay longer
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