Pure
Oh you've been shafted and shat on from a great height. You'll never forget any of this. But just like Mandela, you walk with peace in your heart and forgiveness in your soul. A hand of peace for your enemies. No animosity but understanding. Setting an example. For if 7 billion souls do the same, our world is healed. No war, anger or hatred. Be honourable, just and humble. Expect nothing and give the world in return.
Journey of infinity
A constant wave
Language of mute
With a ageless smile
World in motion
Captivating
Healing thoughts
Hope of eternity
A coloured dream
Acknowledging respect
With a harmony in choas
A beautiful truth
Genre: Inspirational
Shared from my Anthology, Canvas: Echoes and Reflections, 2018.
Aaron LA Lux Feb 17
Man,

Man has certainly caused too much hurt already,
abused every position of power,
in every possible way,
turned outrageously courageous women into inwardly awkward cowards,

how awkward,
that Man would attack,
the very Ones,
that birthed Him,

how many wars have woman started,
how many drilling expeditions have been led by females,
but then again I guess it’s fitting that Men do the drilling,
wanting to enter into Mother Earth the Devil’s in the details,

see Men always seem to want to enter everything,
like a Hermit Crab into a seashell,
and I’m a Man so I share the guilt,
which is maybe why I don’t feel well,

see I am so ashamed,
and sometimes I’m embarrassed I even have a penis,
I regret so much Collective Man’s past aggressions,
like a past life regression I still have visions of my bad decisions,

and I’m tired of making bad decisions,

heck I’m tired of making any decisions,
I’m tired of leading expeditions,
I’m tired of going to a beautiful place like a lake,
and when I go there all I do is start fishing,

why do I have this impulse,
to catch beautiful things,
to bait them then hook them then take them,
why do I find the meaning of life to involve killing?

No problems will be solved if they involve,
taking the life of a living being that’s not willing…

What’s wrong with me,
are all Men predators,
do all men want to conquer mountains,
hook fish and eat steak cooked bloody rare?

This blood lust is just fckt I few us with disgust,
all this forward progress thinking seems backwards,
I mean even this otherwise beautiful blank space here,
can’t be left alone without me wanting to add ink black words,

well blah blah blah,
and hardy ha ha ha,
it’s so sad I’ve gone mad but I’m still glad,
because the home team’s still winning rah rah rah,

got all the trophies,
got all the glory,
got all the medals,
got all the power,

all the Women have been laid,
all the Beasts have been slayed,
all the Money’s been made,
all the Players have been paid,

I’m the King Don Juan Gansta Baller Man,
KDJGBM for short,
I got girls at every club,
and players on every court,

got gold chains,
and money wads wrapped in rubber bands,
got a flashy car complete with leather trim,
it’s fitting when the skin of a cow wraps around the ride that I’m in,

given that we’ve killed the Holy Cow to get the cream,
because we don’t hold anything sacred anymore,
well nothing except for the All Mighty Dollar,
made all this money but don’t know what we made it all for,

I guess we made more money to make more war,
treated our fellow Men as enemies and our fellow Women as whores,
I guess absolute power does corrupt absolutely,
and at the end of the day really what was it all for,

because once we’ve neglected every Woman in our life,
and treated wrong every Woman that ever treated us right,
and we’re all alone at home dying in our own body with no one by our bedside,
who will we run to to nurse us back to health and hold us tight,

that’s right,
likely a woman,
so when will we realize,
we can accept them without having to understand them,

Women,
are meant to be accepted not understood,
Men,
have done enough bad already it’s time for some good,

I know I for one am ready to surrender,
let the Women have control,
because I no longer trust myself,
to keep dear everything we hold,

so I open up,
I surrender,
I let the Feminine in,
and I let Love conquer,

because,

it’s time for some healing,
and that’s not going to come from the Masculine,
the only way we’ll collectively heal our humanity,
is with the Most High power of The Divine Feminine,

it is finally time let the lead be taken by Women,

Man has certainly caused too much hurt already,
abused every position of power,
in every possible way,
turned outrageously courageous women into inwardly awkward cowards,

how awkward,
that Man would attack,
the very Ones,
that birthed Him,

how many wars have woman started,
how many drilling expeditions have been led by females,
but then again I guess it’s fitting that Men do the drilling,
wanting to enter into Mother Earth the Devil’s in the details…

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆
Sand Feb 17
You are Aragorn
And I thought I was your Arwen
Instead I am your Eowyn
Thinking to be in love with you
But lingering, waiting
For my Faramir
Yet I love you
And respect you
As much as you love and respect me
My heir of Isildur
Pretty self explanatory
Janery Alban Feb 16
You tell me you love the rain as you wince on your way out.
When I tell you how you break me, your facade rinses right off.
All of a sudden you're a little boy again, staring at the ground, where just moments ago, A man stood. Drenched in guilt or shame.
Who knows.
There is room in my heart for this sweet child too.
Goodness knows I should leave him there before he tears right through me just as he did his mother.
I should be seething with anger at your apology but apparently, I'm blind to everything but you choking on your teeth. I almost want to protect you from my words.
You offer these to me in hopes of a peace treaty, and aim to link arms but what's the use of your strong hands if you can't wash all this ink out of my hair?
You eek out: "No. These were the weapons I used to hurt you. Wear them around your neck whenever you are upset with me and know that I am sorry for the way I am."
Sorry doesn't erase the tear tracks formed underneath my hollow eyes, now sunken in like La Llorona.
God Bless my sister in arms.
Brave enough to put up with your shit.
Lucky enough to have won your heart.
just your friendly neighborhood sadgirl writing about the same shit on a different day.
The Box…by Jessie 9/06

I am here but not alert, as I walk in unison with five more
Stiff, ridged, eyes front
Rain drops fall and with each pelt, a ripple of consciousness
In my hand and in their hands, a box
In the box we carry hope and despair, past and present, fear and bravery
The weight is heavy; it is not because of the solidness of what is inside
It’s because of the responsibility and emotional heaviness it represents
Rain and tears blend together
Release the box, heavy still
Slowly lowered, time stands still
Words of little comfort spoken
Shots of startling respect, twenty-one in all
Feral the flag, a handful of dirt, cast into the beckoning hole
A hole in the ground, a hole in the heart
Say goodbye to the brother, the father, the husband and son
Freedom’s a heavy price to pay, paid in blood
Heavy yesterday, heavy tomorrow, heavy today
Mystic Ink Feb 9
Though, I' m full
Let me taste your soul

Will you?
February Air
Today I had a premonition about something
It was about the kinds of poems I keep writing.
I know most poets don't deem them fit
And not every one of them will be a hit.
I know most people will think it whacks
And will boldly write a comment like sucks!
And by the same token tell you '' just kidding''
We all know this is direct intellectual bullying!
And every poet sits here and do absolutely nothing.
How can you live without any remorse of shame?
Maybe people do it to silence the poet in me,
Maybe they do it to ease the pains in themselves
Or to find identity in their miserable lives.
As for me, you just wasting your precious time
You really need to up your bully game.
For me, I certainly will not be defeated
Neither will I ever be intimidated,
By any pathetic, mean and sad individual
Masquerading as a poet or intellectual,
Using Hello Poetry as a cocoon
To scar people's emotions like in the bully room.
You know who you are
And I don't care.
For I'm here to stay
And will write any day!

IBPoetry
2/8/2018
Some people do things to hurt others.We all know they are just sad individuals.
dreamed that Current studio hired me
to design
a walkthrough of a ceiling-high,
openly grinning,  paper mache pig's head:
the stable's entrance to tiny pens
packed with caged (paid)
human children
who passed out tiny buttons
enscribed with varying notes:

Please Help
They Did Not Ask Me
I Don't Want To Die
Can You Find My Mom?
I Can Do Math In My Head
Eat More Monkeys
Please Save Us
I Don't Want To Die


But it was an unpopular exhibit
The Oklahoman would not report it
The Gazette managed a story on page 9
Yet advertised Cane's Chicken on page 5

Rattlesnake Roundup is just a few weeks
away
And I have no clue how I could possibly
convey
The value of wild
life.
The degree of their
strife.
Walk away
When he starts to beat
And make you weep.

Walk away
if he is cheap
and starts to hide and sneak.

Walk away
If he doesn't support you
but instead suppresses you.

Walk away
If he can't sleep
at night and starts to creep.

Walk away
if you're not appreciated
and your love starts to get underrated.

Walk away
When your love isn't reciprocated
proudly walk away and be respected.

Walk away
If he really doesn't know your worth
And not about relationship growth.

Walk away
Maybe Somebody else deserves you
Somebody who will call you boo.

Walk away
If he will not remain loyal and committed,
Take you seriously and be dedicated.

Even though you tried to hold it together
walk away if you see no future in any brother.

Walk away
If you live in fear
before you drown in tears.

#IBPoetry©️
twitter @ivanclappers
As a dad to a beautiful and brilliant young lady, I am a strong advocate of gender equality, women empowerment and women rights.I will tell my sisters to walk any day if things aren't right!
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