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Mystic Ink Plus Nov 2019
Without being aware



The same time
Genre: Observation
Theme: Prospective || Time N' Space
Time passes slower for children.
Of that we all can attest.
Not due to physics,
Nor out of jest.
The more new encounters
The longer the day.
So open your eyes
And have a delay.
Sudipta Maity Sep 2019
I put my fingure on you profile bar
to see you clear and have you more closer.
That the only thing every time I do.
yesterday's tulip still in the garden.

When the account blink online
I press my side button
and go for a sleep.
It's now a Enstine relativity,
that you are busy
with someone's chat or in my dream.

It's almost full -
text in form of draft.
Unspoken word with immature love.
I wish to format my brain
with full of your picture and smile.
But the backup is store in my heart
Not in my pendrive.
You have me in your contact list
I have tag you in my all poem.
I am waiting for a morning to pickup
that yesterday's tulip still in garden.
When we connect to our loving one by only social media
Robert C Howard Jul 2013
If I could be a fly on Einstein’s wall
I’d buzz about from chair to curtain
watch him check out plans and gadgets                                            
and scratch remarks on his papers.
When the clock edged to noon
his stomach would growl,
he’d fold up the prints and say,
“It’s a relatively short walk to the café.”

With Albert out I’d take the run of the place -
practicing banks and dips and vertical lifts.
I’d munch on scraps of Brie and fowl
left fused to the edge of his table.

When the tumblers turned
I’d buzz back to my wall, eager to witness
whatever this sage would chance to say.
He’d go to his desk to file reports
and stack them neatly into a tray.

Without warning he’d rise from his chair
scattering papers across the floor.

“MASS AND ENERGY ARE ONE, ” he’d shout, -

I’d buzz and swoop and fly circles and loops
and taxi in on his collar.
I’d beat my wings to cool his brain.
But wait…Whose voice do I hear?
Oh, it’s you gentle reader.

“Stop, hold it right there, ****** pest!
It couldn’t have happened that way!
Have you no shame or respect for God’s truth? ”

But I’d stare you down with my compound eye
and scornfully twitch my wings.
Consider this, troubled sir,
you’re the one scolding a talking fly.

*July, 2006
Included in Unity Tree - Collected poems
pub. CreateSpace -
Brandon Conway Apr 2019
Gaze upon the hidden
an impossibility
light is forbidden
in this distorted intangibility

But we see
we see
general relativity
Jules AA Apr 2019
There’s that feeling of intense awe that can only be described by when you walk into an ancient church, or are standing in a valley, large mountains surrounding you, or in the forest with a brook in the background. You can see the edges of the universe on the face of a cliff, you feel free within a vast closed space. That pleasant insignificance, the realization of how unimportant you are in the grand scheme of things. You don’t get sad anymore, sometimes it’s nice to know you don’t have to be a king or a famous musician, you can just live life and love the beautiful things. That feeling, like a rising steam in your chest, this overwhelming feeling like a hurricane of emotion, yet in that moment, it’s like you’re free. Your mind races with love for the world and you can, for once, drown out the chaos of a running mind. When you stand in that 800 year old cathedral, you’re standing where millions have stood, so why worry?
inspired lightly by Donald Justice
Aaditya Mar 2019

Flows too fast
with you.

Flows too slow
without you.
But will it stop too?
Mary Mar 2019
I look back fondly at my twenties
A time between youth and responsibility
Moving through the world independently
Nobody counting on me

Now in my early fifties
I am all things to everybody
Wife, mother, sister, daughter, friend, employee
Never a moment to sit and just be

When I'm in my eighties
Will I be content, my time completely free?
Or will I be alone in my thoughts and my home
Wishing, again, somebody needed me?
Timmy Shanti Dec 2018
We happy few,
Who breathe and walk.
(The joy of sunlight, snow or rain!)
Who can – just casually –
Write and read AND talk.
And have a functioning, undamaged brain.
We eat, unaided, *** as planned.
We’re even free to start a band!

And yet we sulk, and whine and whimper…
(That’s what I call “to drop a clinker”!)
We’re never sated, always vexed –
Some people cannot even text!

We have the gadgets, have the shelter…
If you so want: ride helter-skelter!
We cross the oceans, study stars.
We’ll soon be up to go to Mars!

... We spoiled brats, we grouchy goons.
How many more last chance saloons
It’s gotta take to make us see
How blessed and fortunate are we?..

Life’s what you make it,
A point of view.

Yours blissfully,
We happy few.
31-Dec 2018
Count your blessings!
Have a glorious 2019!
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