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Watching the frozen water vapor,
Ice crystals, falling from the clouds,
Towards, the cold hard ground,
With a strong wind, blowing, in every direction,
Spinning them in circles, all around.
One of nature’s most beautiful sights,
As they arrive for their landing, so gently,
Never making a sound.
When the sun shines down, on everything,
Covered in white, it brings a hypnotizing, trance,
With it, in the air, everyone always stops,
Their day, taking a few minutes and stares.
A snowfall, slows the pace of life, for everyone,
To experience, enjoy, and see, as it covers, all
Generations, reminding us,
The most beautiful, wonderful feelings, in this life,
Come naturally, simple and free.


The original: Tom Maxwell © 02/17/2024 A.D.
Jeremy Betts Feb 3
I don't have any answers
I can't recall the right questions
Even with makeshift blinders
I find myself open to suggestions
I've had enough with these reminders
I catch a glimpse of the problem in reflections
Dark and light are missing critical dividers
Please help, can't tell angels from demons?
We three share the same voice as Pinocchio nose liers
What road is it they say is paved with the best intentions?
Something about a destination of eternal fires...
Eh, it's a moot point now,
I fly by the stairway, going 107 on the highway, it's one way, no need for directions

©2024
hyun Dec 2023
i spend a quarter of my time
dreaming of days gone from memory,
their vestiges lost in anticipation
of something new—
something worth betting
my remaining life with.

i wish i could go anywhere,
yet like a bird in a cage
i am merely a slave to these chains
and there's little to no chance
i'm making it out alive.

there is reprise, they tell me,
in my laughter—
perfectly rehearsed,
unapologetically
apologetic of jokes
meant to soothe
my own misery.
it is all i know,
and it is all
i will ever need.

"you remind me
of greatness," they tell me.
yet they forget reminders
are odes to what used to be
rather than what is.

these days, i turn to the future.
"dreams are for the blessed,"
i tell myself.
someday they will fade
and i, alone, will remain.
there's something about silence that just reminds me of you
and since i can't run away from it, i can't run from you.
so may someone inform me as to what i can do?
i'm over these shrieks in the void that ring true
so blue.
quiet nights.
Nigdaw Sep 2021
my mother always cleaned
it was her thing
more than hobbies
more than friends
erasing every previous day
it's accidents
it's happenings

little hand prints
adorn my walls
pencil scribblings
from budding Leonardos
and when I pass the second stair
a stain on carpet
from God knows where

I live the past everyday
making new futures
along the way.
Simon Mar 2021
A cancellation of something, is (generally speaking) progress to enlightenment, because it's meant to "congress" the very supposedly different features that literally...
SCREAMS OUT OF CONTROL!
(But only, when something doesn't officially go its own way).
However, in time, things do get better.
Because they must!
It's just simply...HAST TOO!
After all, it's a very "primal" influential (on a need-to-know basis), before something truthfully "triggers" the very (notion of surprise) in the "generalized" form...that is a natural part of life that stems from the very pit in one's own gut.
Then at which time SCREAMS back in response, (from the very first response that triggered its very own local message).
BREAKING the very so-called "alignment" (when evolving yourself directly straight-out from under the control of your very own still processing learning curb), that keeps you (too "rooted" in your very own self) from that very essential...cancellation itself.
But alas, things aren't as focused (as they once were...) Now aren't they...?
That's entirely against the point of "truer" interests that begin too BASH one another over such silly "squabbles".
Something that truly masks the very freedom of what was (once out of control)! That is now breathing in this very newer *** of fresh air.
This very newer *** of fresh air is a little "musty". And could become HEAVILY influenced, because of its very own odor type smell...it truly gives off....
But that's only because things have been stashed away and broken down and covered up for far too long.
Meaningfully, making it the obvious result of the very cancellation holding you back from simply moving forward with a very "progression for enlightenment" itself.
Simply put, once you let go of the too many "attachments" that have been stringing you along in such a predictable simulation for an incredibly (sort of "dire" need) to become this WIDENED long-drawn-out frame of time...
That's what starts to truly speculate its very own nature.
Also, when things start to take a turn for the "interesting kind".
Basically, your no different from anyone else.
However, that doesn't mean your own "sense of liberty" (in your very self) doesn't become prey to even truer mindsets...that'd have you "scrambling" out of sync with what truly matters in your very ("hour of need").
Progress at the ending type of spectrum for enlightenment, is the such "divinity" of one's own (preciously "engaged") sufferable type of "repressed" comings and goings (among the very goings on), that then (in the very truest sense of the word) limit your actions to such "formidable...consequences."
Either way, a cancellation such as this, will harbor the very "harbinger"...that is the "progress of enlightenment" itself!
Things tend to mix and match the very severity of many varieties and priorities in one single shot when becoming witnessed to such guesswork that randomly pokes and prods the very air you breath in...and then exhale outward...into the very fabrication of your very own "self-acknowledgement".
Payton Hayes Feb 2021
Again, I **** the cigarette.
Again, I nurse the liquid fire.
Again, again, again.
I do these things again and
again, for no other reason than this:
It reminds me of him.
This poem was written in 2019.
Erica Squire Feb 2021
i still think of you every time i see a gold civic,
it drives by with a stranger behind the wheel,
and i hope you are doing well.
i wonder if there is something that still reminds you of me.
Merlie T Feb 2021
You don't have to go,
do all those things.
You can simply be.
Breathe in your air.
Exist in your home.
The rest of the world will always be there.
Take it at your pace.
No one is waiting on you.
The stillness of the earth, after the rain;
Takes my breath away, once again;

Your memories at rest,
My soul bequeath;

Those forgotten days,
Reminders of the haze;

Scars in the heart,
Barring the art;

The flow of emotions,
Became a halo of notions;

Those heartfelt things,
Were nothing but ruins;

Some escapades,
From my failures;

Beautifully carved,
On the canvas of life;

Presented to you,
My mistake;

Will try not to,
Repent what had been a stake..

Your eyes were the culprits,
They made me their victim;

We suffered together,
For neither could speak;

Afraid to love,
Unable to express..

Withering away,
With the bond intact;

Two blooming flowers,
Caressed by the showers;

United by fate,
Separated by twaite;

You & I waited,
While our souls mated..
Distance cannot separate you.
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