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Ali Harati Jun 13
Everything is a moment
Of silence in design,
Of rage that is burning
With passion behind.

Everything is a feeling
Of sorrow when it rains,
Of letting go the tears
That hold you in your cage.

Everything is a touch
Of the hand upon your cheeks,
Of love that is fainting
But not failing to persist.

Everywhere is a space
Of solitude in form,
Of where you would be
If everything is yours.

Everywhere is a pursuit
Of wanting to be seen,
Of all being for nothing
If everything would cease.

When everything is something,
And everywhere is there,
You’ve found it all at once,
Which you’ll wholly embrace.
This poem was inspired by the movie of the same name. It just moved me so much I had to write it.
Eloisa Jun 5
Bravery and strength
She broke the hourglass of grief
Knotted dreams unravelled
With pretty shades of purpose
The moon, her poems as witness
Eloisa May 29
Call someone.
Read a book.
Enjoy the sun.
Allow yourself to breathe deeply.
Take a walk.
Express gratitude and kindness.

Muse and meditate.
Add a daily entry in your journal.
Gain clarity about your passions and strengths.
Invite positivity and act in service to others.
Connect yourself meaningfully to people and things around you.
I’m currently in the process of untangling my uncertainties and finding my ikigai.
Ikigai- the state of having a deep sense of purpose, or reason for being- a raison d’être (as they say in French). It is a combination of the Japanese words iki and ***.  ‘Iki’ meaning ‘life,’ and ‘***’ meaning ‘worth’ or ‘value.’
Tony Tweedy May 26
A flash of light upon the sky
and dinosaurs were gone.
In a universe that knew them not,
and held no memory to live on.

Of ourselves our human kind,
we think the universe holds us dear.
Through time and vastness of it all
so doubtful it knows we're here.

So many things come and gone
forever changing it still evolves.
Too short is our human existence
to see how all of this resolves.

We think our kind important
a central purpose for it all.
But the universal scale of things
serves to remind our place is small.

We will never know its purpose,
and may never know if there was plan.
But rest assured my fellow humans,
our path will be as the dinosaurs
when the universe recycles man.
Mercy Feb 24

What do you do when you're at the edge
That place that you keep
Landing in...
Over and over as though a melody?.

When waves of emotions stir up
As tears fight,
Trying to escape my eye lids
Maybe wash off the pain in my eyes.

Religion, relationship, career, purpose
Nothing makes sense
I'm at a loss here
What's with me
Do I enjoy the roller coaster
And why is it always painful

This knife stuck in my
Stuck., as my molten blood
Burn it down,
Melting it from it's metallic state
Consumed completely into dark
The horror.
The voices, the mock,
The evil laugh,
Of him winning
Ha!'re a seven remember
The mass that should
Predict the future behind you doesn't measure up,
Your face is pale,
Your eyes dilated,
Your knees sharp...decide whether you wanna be a girl coz ha!
Your short fat fingers ugh! Pathetic!
What was God even thinking trying to put up all this?
You're the definition of mess.

At that dark corner
I smiled,
I chuckled and in the middle of a chuckle  
I broke a tear
And laughed hysterically
For the sick joke.

Striding slowly to the mirror.
I see my reflection
I'm not sure what they saw
When they were saying all that
Coz I don't see it.
I see a reflection of God
Maker of the heavens and earth

Can't believe it broke my heart
Listening to their empty
Maybe I forget how perfect
His work is
I hope I'll snap in time
To appreciate the rhythm
For the hallelujahs we to raise

Coz everything He created was good and perfect
So next time you
Find yourself doubting
His master piece
Consult The spirit that
Hovered over the waters
When the earth was with no form
Helping the Father complete His work
Which was affirmed good.
Not forgetting Him breathing life into
You and placing you
Where He called good and perfect.

Let His words flow out of you
Changing the slow rock rhythm that keeps living you hanging on the edge
And dance on those sharp
Thorns coz even though the snake
Bites you,

The poison won't harm you.
Maybe you're a small girl which
Is perfect coz you have a big God.
Small girl big God
As we travel farther on this trip, every day,
Following our decisions, without a clue,
Hoping we are heading the right way.

Never knowing if we discovered our purpose,
So many detours, and bumps, that can alter plans,
We can only hope we are heading the right direction,
Some- times we feel like we are floating, others,
Like we are sinking in quick sand.

Never give up thinking, the best part of your life,
Has passed, you never know the best day of your life,
Until you have lived your last.

The Original: Tom Maxwell © 1/01/2022 AD
5:00 am
If those mountains could talk, they would
If those sculpture could talk, they would
If your walls could talk, they would
If the mirrors could talk, they would

They are there
To witness
To console
To listen
To reflect

They thrive
In silence

So do you
Genre: Observational
Theme: The Purpose
Author's Note:
To be aware
Of every thing
Is the best gift of life

To be unaware
Of anything
The second best
Brett Jan 9
Lines on the page are like my personal prison bars;
Where all my arresting thoughts are locked away.
Ink and me, worn and fading
As each calendar day is torn,
Crumpled and forgotten.

Like a black hole, my journal entraps the light;
The turning of a page only paints,
An image of one perpetually falling.
Spiraling endlessly towards a center
I will fall short of reaching.
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