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Michael Briefs Nov 2017
Wrestling with the rifts within,
Fraught with an inner turmoil,
I stagger down to the sea,
Seeking to uncoil.
Standing out on the pier,
Alone with the song of the shore
And the sea around me,
The bitter questions dissipate,
The draining weight lifts free.

Waves crash and currents move
Like gravity made plain;
A watery force droning as voices
Sustained.
The sound of this presence pulls me
Into a trance of fate.  
My reverie foments, my mind drifts
And my thoughts fly
Like sea spray.

Inside, I am dancing, daring, flirting with
Danger and teasing the tides!
Soon, I feel like I am floating above
The deluge,
Yet my courage abides.

I am in that place
In the midst of a constantly flowing
Flux,
But I am steady,
Held within its reach.
I am not lashed by the elements
Nor tattered by the winds…
I feel immersed in this dynamic
Field of hydro-power
And showering sonic sheets.  

This place has become a part of me,
For my heart has joined with it
And the two become one:
Pulse and flow,
Flesh and wet,
Water and blood
Merged.
It’s the rise and fall of
Centrifugal churning
(beneath the waves and within this body),
It’s the crack of a quickening surge!

In this bracing instant, we hum
In sympathetic harmony,
Confluent,
Entwined.
At this moment, at once, I am
Vulnerable and victorious,
Pallid and empowered,
Passing and present;
All of these combined.

With the lurking land mass of my life behind
And this mysterious, epic depth before,
My soul hangs suspended
Between,
Alone
And separate from those on the ships and
Those who tread
Beyond the shore.  

Behind, in the earth, I have been fashioned
For a life like the teeming masses
I see every day.
With so many years gone by, under
The wandering sun and the
Waning moon,
I have journeyed in vain.  
With the taste of dust in my mouth,
My feet are blistered by
The fractured terrain.

I am yoked with the weight of
Bruised memories, still unresolved
Conflicts in my mind.
That earth realm leaves me weary,
In black and sullen confusion, blind.

Yet something is calling me back
To forth,
Out from and above those wasted years,
Like so many fingers
Clutched around my neck!
I sense my flight and my future are found before me.
I feel girded for the trek.

There is an overwhelming need
For a desperate DEPARTURETURN!  
To evolve…

Then, within my soul and with
The salt of my saliva,
I gasp at a realization...Yes!
This is a chance to chart my course!
To start my life anew!
To face the epic depth of
This fearful moment!

To descend and rise….to baptize.  

Suddenly,
There seems to be mercury in my
Blood stream for it swells until
My eyes swim!
There is a cataclysm in my psyche
As the crashing ricochets
within!

My soul, my fears, my hopes and my heart
Are fluxing and flying wildly, like sea spray!

There is a feeling of being drawn out,
Like a force of gravity
On a current of inevitability.
At this moment, at last, I am one.
Harry Roberts Nov 2017
3
Where's the Heart at
And tell me where we've been,
******* in equal parts
Yet we never seem to win.

Tell me where the Heart at
Where'd you park that,
Yeah we ******* larked that
Fat and juicy on a bench we sparked that.

Skunk was on literal
We were nasty hoes
Caught in His chaos
-******'-
Written in his prose.

Never thought death could rise,
but I'm luckin' now an' i rose.

Living my life now
Found my own soul
And my life now,
Won't look back
Can't look down!

Won't think of how
Only living loving now,
Body Spirit Soul and all the things
That make me whole.

Where I want to be
Just the sight in front
Of me.
How you want to say
What you want yourself to see.
Don't haunt yourself just
Look up and see,
Otherwise you're never you
Or ever free.
"Three" or "3". Challenging the past.
No longer written of the top of my head after a night shift as it made no sense in some parts.
Therefore it had to be edited lol
^o^
Elysia Veildorn Nov 2017
Black.
Humble.
Momento Mori.

Remember, we are all but leaves on the tree of life.
And come our season, we too...
Will Fall.
harlon rivers Oct 2017
The warm autumn breeze
         scatters the leaves
     like spring  snowflakes
      I carefully hand stack
        them each by color,
              one by one,
           as if they were
          befallen dreams
                     or
      similarly unholdable
               gathered
      garnered memories
                      •
        each leaf touched
             reminds me
       of how many times
          I've had to let go ―
         how many times  
                I've fallen
     without a place to land
   until the winds of change
         drew me back up
               as if I were
   evanescent autumn leaves,
      to be swept away again,
         touched by the spirit
             the true nature
                  of  love
                      • •        
        sown seeds of one love
           bestrewn hopefully,
             thusly cast about
              just as intended,  
   the grain and chaff together,
     sifted by the velvet breath
        of the samsara wind's
              sanguine touch

                     •  •  •
            

  autumn waters ... October 29, 2017
Post script:

Samsara: The eternal cycle of birth, suffering, death, and rebirth

1. ( in Buddhism) the process of coming into existence as a differentiated, mortal creature.
2. (in Hinduism) the endless series of births, deaths, and rebirths to which all beings are subject.
Citations:  Collins English Dictionary – Complete and Unabridged, 12th Edition 2014. S.v. "samsara."

Hand Stacked Leaves
Written by:  h.a. rivers
Weronika Oct 2017
I never told you that silence scared me
no movement
no sounds
the eternal stillness
we could linger in the calmness
stay close
hear each other's deep breaths
you barely heard me do it
I always stalled the inhales
to feel still for a moment
to suffocate
I just wanted to feel weightless
make the world stop for a minute
relax and be brought to life
for the last time
fresh and clean
silent
Brianna Duffin Oct 2017
If we weather the dusk
If we survive the dark
We are reborn each dawn.
And yesterday need not matter
But tomorrow matters even less.
Today...
Only today...
That is all that matters
So count your blessings
And be the best that you can be
Live through each moment
Only for this moment in itself.
Today, and only today
Is all we must know.
I wrote this when I was watching the sunrise last week.
Nevena Todorovic Oct 2017
this poem is about Me
Me me me
Me with a gun on my tongue
Me and my g.o.o.o.o.o.o.lden bullets
aimed at ... ?
Me, blowing bubbles in my mind
not caring what the plan is
Me, imperfect
Unperfect me

me as Myself incarnate
Renaissanced
rising from a shell
Thoughts
creeping up the bone
Me me me
my meat
Meeting at the gap
me alone

Acceptance
sitting on the ridge of my nose
so far removed
from rejection
Who is the warmth of the past?
It's me
The mist of the unknown
Me
Spilling forgiveness like liquor
bridging
across the ridges

here's me
Unhinged - again
Unabridged
Spilt
not spent

Splitting my way through
the covers
falling through space
what dimension?
Spilling back
into myself
Introspect.
Fumbletongue Oct 2017
Pulling a Rip Van Winkle seems appealing,
Though my time it would be stealing
Keeping me from dealing
With all of this feeling
That leaves me reeling.
But like an onion, I need pealing
To accomplish inner healing
Revealing rather than concealing
I find myself kneeling while congealing
My past I am repealing
Fumbletongue Oct 2017
Yearning for burning

A kind of returning

Unlearning learning

To fix my own kerning

Churning adjourning

My rebirth I'm earning
Stefania S Oct 2017
don't know what to
write
don't know what to
say
whispered words slowly
spirited away
weapons between teeth
saliva soaked blade
slicing tomorrow, tonight and today
wish me luck
the climb may take a while
the mountain you know
you've been there, child
come when there's snow
i'll offer you a cup
wander through the
shadows
my mind turned to dust
mourning sets in
down the mountain you'll go
a jar i'll hand you
fill it with what you need to sow
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