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Circles—round a trip,
going all around the plains of plain thinking,
A blank mind; empty paper, ****** canvas,
As of the first I'll write: a masterpiece to create.

A shaking pen, a hold of my thoughts and emotions.
Dreams so unreal; feels so prohibited to a natural
thought. So I write them out in words.

Read through it, subtract, dissect,
read through it again; alter, adjust,
As many times, till I'm content with the piece.
But I'm never content; until the next piece,
the next piece, and next pieces after that.

Battling thoughts on whether to share or
archive for a later story. Post for likes, comments,
to please an ego—post for dispraise, inklings,
to better self, and writing capabilities.

For all-inclusive
Everyone likes to be noticed,
Appreciated for things they do,
It gives them courage, and confidence,
When they help another from turning blue.
Stay friends with thoughtful people,
And always try to pay back, what is due.
The pace of human life, get’s faster day by day,
A little recognition can go a long way.
When you make someone smile,
It is a reflection, back at you.

The Original; Tom Maxwell ©  02/21/2022AD
Dom Keen Oct 2021
I peel open sleepy lids and roll over,
As vision clears a thousand hours of 2 second dreams from my eyes my first thought; who are you?
I climb up from my bed, who’s soft embrace betrays the horrors that lay within, pull over my nightgown, thin. A silken touch of finery. A lie, a hope it would refine me.
Traipse, do I, through cold and lonely corridors, head tilted down, pushing through a gale of memories and half stories. Suddenly fascinated by my slippers.
I glance up briefly, look at the figure staring back at me. Sudden my mind a torrent, maelstrom, gyre. My soul a fire that burns a beacon to the figure, a funeral pyre of sorts.
I dip my head once more, a whisper;
‘Who are you?’
Familiarity brims at the corners of my mind, while tiny little insects chew away at the edges of my sanity. I dip my head again.
Vanity was never one of mine.
The door to the bathroom presents itself, a mahogany monolith, a sentinel of secrets guarding the smeared lines between fact and fiction.
‘You can do this’
A diction I utter, as I twist the **** and push to door. Shatter the monolith. The smeared lines become kaleidoscopes. My vision blurs, my hands, they shake. My slippers suddenly become riveting. A trope, a day to day, nothing new.
Deep breath in, deep breath out. I step through the door, brace against the sink, raise my head and stare. I stare at the eternal and never ending eyes of the stranger in front of me. Their gaze burns through mine.
I steel myself, and look into my eyes.
‘Who am I?’
The glass shatters. The world falls away.

I knew this would happen.
Left To Rot May 2021
I know I've come a long way
so if at least once you'd say
"I'm proud of you" instead of "try harder"
I'd at least once ask you to stay.
250
Why in this particular time, is everyone reaching out to me from all over the globe? Do they feel the upcoming show? Do they feel, it's time to let go? To start a new beginning, exploring their options? Remembering the being they met. His energy very prosperous. Effecting them, to the point. Where they have implanted my image to their brain. Coming back to me, asking from the knowledge tree. Never thinking selfishly, only seeking information. Focusing on their hidden desire to have recognition. Seeing there world around them, about to crack and shatter to pieces. They feel this may be the last chance they get, to explore their creativity.
When I look into your eyes
I see a very old soul
So many times almost crushed
by despair and turmoil

But to me this is a sign of your tenacity
Your scars are living proof of your vitality
You’ve seen the highs
You know the lows
You realise what life is worth
It shows courage, that once again
You have returned to walk this earth

And once again you will find
that life does not come easily
There will always be
adversity and tragedy
But I’ve seen you have the wisdom
It’s the wind under your wings
You are painfully aware
these are but temporary things

For in your eyes
I see that childlike wonder
That vibrant spark of curiosity
You dream of what lies over yonder
You are delighted by the things
you’ve yet to see

You’re an eternal child
That much is evident
Your playfulness is like a shining sun
Radiant, and ever innocent
Though you are old
Your journey’s just begun

And on your path you’ll meet many a soulmate
Many old friends come back in different roles
Much like an acting troupe, these souls, travel in proximity
It’s impossible to miss a twin flame in your vicinity
You’ll realise you are part
of a much greater whole
When you look into my eyes
I see a beautiful soul
In it I see the universe
and stars brighter than gold

When I look into your eyes
I see a very old soul
connection
John Darnielle Nov 2020
We broke the doorknob off of the door  
The door swung open easily
We sauntered into the poorly lit store
and looked around lazily
We stole every bit of candy they had inside
Gobbled it all up greedily on our 3 month ride
I'm gonna miss you when you're gone
I'm gonna miss you when you're gone

You headed out to the getaway car
And hit the open road
I saw something written in tall clear letters on your face
but I could not break the code
We had hot caramel sticking to our teeth
and the only love I've ever known burning underneath
I'm gonna miss you when you're gone
I'm gonna miss you when you're gone

I'm gonna miss you when you're gone
I'm gonna miss you when you're gone
Sungmoo Bae Aug 2020
Woe to the being
in its brilliance ever illuminating,
ever since it was brought out to this world

full of wonders
—you might’ve thought as such, at first—
to your initial senses
just born into the earth.
Stellar you are, and they regarded you such at first,

but considered as a constellation baffling,
soon after, thus celestial, irritating
    to their perception  
    —belonging to none
    of the earth; heathen you’ve been,

    and so that’s why, I see,
    you’re deemed a heretic.

Looking around,
you walk on the heaven’s arc
painted in all its auroral glory,

    wondering,
    ever yearning
    for the only answer they might give you someday:

    to which stars
    the people of the earth
    give their praises so pristine.
(C) Copyright: Saul Bae (Sungmoo Bae)
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