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TomDoubty May 6
Lou
Before, I couldn’t see you.
I would have written about your eyes
Your smile
Or your hair.
All cliche, all flat.
I couldn’t write. I tried.
Now I see you.

I see a green mantis
I see your freckled patina in that photo with the perfect light
I see you engaging the waiter in conversation
I see your long limbs loosely crossed,
Cradling your herbal tea and segmenting your orange.

The soft nape of your neck is in my dreams

I see you swimming ahead in the river,
I see your joy in that, and remember me needing to turn back.
I see us crouched on the railway sleeper,
the last of the sun crossing us
While the washing up waits,
We sit looking back at your home.

I see the young and sexless person you told me about
your nose in a book on the family holiday.

I see the flicker of self-doubt
the slow rising tear that doesn’t spill over
being all things,
mother, worker,
friend, lover.

I see all the things you are not
that I projected onto you
Now I see you.
Traveler Nov 2020
The interpretation
Is determined
By the viewer

Steady your brush strokes
Choose your colours carefully
Groom the melody
Allow the bridge to connect us

The walls of paradise
Are but a creators prison
Snakes slither within
That which was meant
To keep evil out

The cosmos are but a picture
In our minds limited eye
We see from within
We believe our lies
As our projections
Redefine
Traveler Tim
Niel Nov 2020
..a cutting edge
I drown in it
Cause to see this gem
          Then feel this slight
   Is hard to right.
Matt Sol Jan 2019
He hides one face
till there are two
then placed the lie
between two truths.

I'm higher than
the obvious.
I'm underneath
your point of view.

I'm higher than
the obvious.
I'm underneath
your point of view.

So insipid,
i will feign this,
indisposed to,
my reflection.

So insipid,
i will feign this,
indisposed to,
my reflection.

My reflection.
Myopia.
Myopia.
My expression.

My reflection.
Myopia.
Myopia.
My expression.

I'm underneath
your point of view.
I'm higher than
the obvious.

I'm underneath
your point of view.
I'm higher than
the obvious.

My reflection.
Myopia.
Myopia.
My expression.

My reflection.
Myopia.
Myopia.
My expression.
Harley Hucof May 2017
I look and i spread wide
Connection established, i am in your mind

I see lust and lonesome , i understand
I see jealousy and greed , i understand

I am sad. What have become of woman and man?

I don't back down in front of your mediocre thoughts
You lack of soul , you lack of trust

I open my eyes, and i rise
There is only one answer, no need to analyse

It is a vicious network, i am omniscient
I live and capture it, this pure moment

Spending my days aware, i am everywhere
I combine intangible layers

I am here , will you ever notice?


Words Of Harfouchism.
Humans hold within incredible hidden powers
Kyle Kulseth Aug 2014
She's all Spring and Summer
                Strength
         and words of shelter
He's all maps and formlines
                    waits
        in wings for Springtime

Take these tattered ghosts
                    from their trenches
ink-smeared, tethered tight
                      to the depth curve
Autumn only waits for the silent
                       ones sometimes.

"If their voices chase
                   out the brisk months,
quiet those windy wights
                     with a new song.
Autumn only waits for the silent
                      ones," she said.

In 3/4 time
the distances unwind
so swiftly
Afterburn of quiet nights
                      glows, fading.

He's all sovereign anger,
               righteous, stiff
                      but twisting
She's all cavalier, now--
               cat-quick through
                   projections

Past the legends,
               rose our directions
Keyed to Winter's
                 dumb introversions
Years just spilling over the levee's
                         prescribed edge.

With their weathered ghosts
                           in the trenches,
tired-eyed, tethered tight
                          to the map's edge
Autumn only cares for the silent
                             ones some days.

— The End —