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Allesha Eman Feb 24
Seconds go by in tender bliss
We smell roses and stain our hands with
crushed petals.
Declarations of life long rumination
live between the distance in our
exchanged affirmations.
Happiness opens its undisguised embrace
As the silence between our spoken words
fills the gaps of our stuttered promises.
Allesha Eman Jan 26
Let's lay in the grass
And think about spring
Think about dandelions
When they still look like the sun
Let's laugh like when we were silent
Fill in the voids of winter
With senseless chatter
Let's talk about feelings
And push away barricades
Let's put down our weapons
And roll down this hill
Let's put this fading
Back into the stormy grey
And let it
With the tears
That were shed
As We
Merlie T Oct 2021
I lift my head up from the bow
A risk to take just yet
Iron caves have rusted
Surround and keep me warm
To leave here now frightens me so
But to stay will do the same
Years and year so dream to return
Forever I sorley yearn
To speak you and to find you
Is the only vision I can see
Your hand reached out to mine
So calmly and serene
To step over that threshold
Into the safety of always
Where we dance in memories past
Laugh as we always have
nitelite Sep 2021
does long-sought summer simmer
more with yearning?
should not a reckless desire unbound
plead for unlearning?
does not a whisper of a breeze upon a scorched blacktop race
through the stillness of youth,
fickly departing without a trace?

these things shall pass, only while they're good
as the expanse of outside
accelerates beyond youth's neighborhood
and a last enduring moment clings
for dear life as it darts between
time and space upon nostalgia's wings.

it is only after the last drop of lunar luster
upon the chilled earth dissipates
that rich amber rays sprawl from a horizon
such that the night falls and dawn breaks

and so should not the end of one story
plead for another to awaken from slumber?
as one smile fades should there not be
another to turn back the first day of summer?

Now I've grown,
Yes, summer was that smile.
is youth something to overcomplicate?
do you live for youth? is it a phase, or a tool?
has it an end, is it something to date?
youthful or simply young, for youth i am a fool
Glenn Currier Jun 2021
In this small cathedral we meet
I sit here waiting for you
and it is not long before
our joyful reunion.
I weep tears of joy
being wrapped in your arms
feeling your creative energy
flow through my mind
into my fingers and back out
on this small screen.

I have missed this intimacy
that fills me with poems
and lines along which you travel
from me into the universe.
Those lines pierce my heart
and it overflows with life and love
because you have entered.

This is a sacred space
for here I bring all the trials and pain
and lay them out
for your creative plunging being,
plunging past the terror and hate without
into the deepest part of me
a chamber of reunion.
Since this time last month (May 2021) I have been suffering some intense pain in my back due to spinal disk degenerative disease that hurts most intensely when I sit and a bit less when I stand. So that sends me to bed of the couch where I can recline and allow my pain killing measures to take effect. I can really understand how people get hooked on pain killers. So this month has filled me with compassion for those who suffer chronic intense pain. I still await a more permanent or at least a longer lasting solution to this problem. The medical profession sometimes moves slowly. I have missed writing and this morning I forced myself to sit here, meditate, journal, and allow my muse to enter the small space of our garden room where my little computer sits and I can enjoy the feast of green life around me and through the windows AND the feast of creativity – inspiring this my first poem in more than a month. It is amazing how the creative impulse arises when we just stop and allow it to do so. I have missed you all and your poetry, your spilling out of your soul life. I hope I can force myself to return to this small cathedral more often even though the pain continues to nag and pulse.  Peace and poetry to all of you, my dear friends.
Diljeev Jun 2021
The meadows of his visage,
soil cracking with age,
all it takes is her thought
and the meadows
cease to rot.

Each one in his dream's domicile,
tears racing down their eyes,
for the day may not be far
down the aisle,
when the prolonging dreams
and the reality blend,
and so do they, in the end.

It isn't a certainty,
but a man can hope can't he?
hope made it viable,
he made past the ordeal,
now it comes to a close,
it is but human to think
a reunion is undeniable.
A butterfly once flew into my life
A beautiful friendship was formed
She stayed for a quite a while
Until there came a vicious storm  
Bringing chaos and hardship
In all of the confusion
I found that she had departed
I grieved for my friend
Unsure of why it had ended
Eventually like most things
I found closure and acceptance
Out of the blue
On an autumn evening
A butterfly stopped by
Fluttering her wings in greeting
So there, time stood still
Call it fate if you will
A reunion of two butterflies
Who never truly severed ties
a reunion of two butterflies who never truly severed ties
Bolaji Temilola Dec 2020
I woke only having you in my heart, Mynat
And looking at the clock,
It reads  5:55 and so I got the feeling that you too are thinking of me
Our angels are working on our case.
Huge change is on the horizons
Massive change is for my highest good
I am prepared for this shift
Things are getting excited.
555 Thank you
preston Dec 2020
D Vanlandingham

Boundless, in its ability to extend beyond all forms of containment;
the big circle contains within it, the little one
and if it is true relationship through genuine volition of the beloved
that is to be desired most of all,
then spirit, wrapped in flesh is the autonomy most needed
in order for the dream to become true.
Spirit is being.
Spirit cloaked in flesh is being--
feeling its relationship with its own self.
Spirit, mastering its own flesh by reigning in  its emotions  along
with the synaptic-firing of every one of its nerve endings into full
submission of the spirit's own core nature, is the root-basis of all true volition.
Spirit, in its raw form is perfect-- wholly unable to undergo
corruption, or decay..

but the flesh..
the flesh,
Always needing to substantiate itself through its never-ending layers
of self-promotion  apart from the realities of its own spirit's  core.

Yet,  pure love--
wholly unable to see itself as that which is to be rejected,
enters in to the very act of the rejection, itself;
that autonomy may  continue to contain the uncorrupted core--
     and the smaller circle becomes established:
     smaller.. yes.. but in truth,
its parameters self stretch all the way out to those of the bigger one
And so, with the necessary advent of autonomy
into the relational equation,    comes also
The necessary advent of God's wholly-volitional
self-depletion of God.. entering,  in to it all
so that, in time, God alone might take the full brunt
of rejection's unjust hit--

in its autonomous movement  away
from its own incorruptible core..
away,  from its own true self.

So, follow the smaller circle, if you will, my beautiful--
either way, you are still following God.

"where can I go from your spirit?
or where can I flee from your presence?
If I ascend to heaven, you are there;
if I make my bed in Hades, behold, you are there.
If I take the wings of the dawn,
if I dwell in the remotest part of the sea,
even there your hand will lead me,
and your right hand will lay hold of me.

If I say, “Surely the darkness will overwhelm me,
and the light around me will be night,”
Even the darkness is not dark to you,
and the night is as bright as the day..

Darkness and light are alike to you."
~The kingdom of Dave
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