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Gabriel Girault Jul 2020
Some days I feel like a Facade. Not a real person going through the day but a wall that was built to be the separation of the two things.

I don’t know what this wall is protecting or what lies the Facade is even telling. It all feels like I am not a person of true substance, just something waiting to reveal itself.

Hopefully it’s good.
George Krokos May 2020
Oh God, You hide Yourself in the world so well
that there's hardly anyone around who can tell.
People often ask Who, what or where You are
because it seems that You're so near, yet so far.
When You reveal Yourself to anyone someday
all their narrow limited mind is blown away.

They are then left speechless and in a state
of knowing nothing new according to fate.
Because all along You've been within them
whispering directions for those who'll stem;
and get to the source of that voice they hear
which rises from the heart and is very dear.
_________
Written in 2019.
EP Robles Mar 2020
"falling!" said the Star
"Oh wee!" sang the birds
"Despised!" cursed farmers
"By God!" screamed the children

and the rest of humanity moved along
just fine

:: 03.11.2020 ::
George Krokos Mar 2020
Only God is real, everything else is really a dream
of His creation, playing all the parts, it does seem.
What we are though He can reveal for us one day to see
as He’s the only One in the many and also eternally free.
______
From "The Quatrains" ongoing writings since the early '90's.
Dakota J Dawson Mar 2020
I am unhappy
Most likely depressed
Could be suicidal

Revealing my mind
With whiskey
Cigarettes

Empty knowledge
Corrupted genes
Ingrained endgame

Have I met
My own
Sufficient end
Steve Page Feb 2020
Each line,
each sound enters a secret combination and swings wide a door of opportunity to me who follows
And as it appoaches it's close, the line turns and holds open that door, just for a few moments, before moving on,
and if you're quick enough, if you time it right, you who follow can take the weight without the skill needed to open it, and so you say your thanks
and then you too can pause as you look back and pass the weight , the opportunity onto a someone who follows on.

And so we follow, on to the turn of the next words of revelation,
timing and attention crucial to maintaining the flow of opportunity
until every now and then a mis-step necessitates a stretch, a reach and catch of the door, giving effort to reverse the swing and maintaining the offering of access
and in return we might receive a thank you from they who follow us.
And smiling, we follow on.
Ursula K le Guin: 'I see my job as holding doors open, opening windows, but who comes in and out the doors?'
Andra Sep 2019
he was always a mystery to me.
no matter how much i thought i could observe him from afar.

i know
his style
his gestures
the way he lights up a cigarette
how he argues
how he jokes around
i know the dimple in the corner of his mouth that appears when
he smiles.

i never had the courage to even hope of being next to him.
it's strange to work with someone you admire in a way
you don't even understand.
cause it was not a "fell in love" type of feeling, but more like a weird chemical reaction that was happening
within me.

and last night
i thought i was discovering him.
that i will get to discover him.
but he only left me with more mystery.
with every thing he showed me
everything he revealed to me:
the affection
the caress
the kisses
even that birthmark,
the more mysterious he would get.

today i discovered
how much he wants to be a father
how much he wants someone
how sensitive he is.

and i know i should not be sad thinking now, alone, about what happened
but i should be happy that the moment existed.
that for a few instants,
in the intimacy that we built together
he was mine only,
he gave himself to me entirely
and let a few masks fall.

"Coffee, yes?"
well...

and now i ask you, stay!

but i'll pour another glass of waiting. this bar is never closing.
Steve Page Sep 2019
Before you take up your blade, Sharon
who do you see?
Will you be cutting to heal
or incising to free
some carefully hidden,
some up-til-now unbidden me?

When you take up your blade
and test the fresh edge
do you have an image of a me
fixed in your head?
Can you see in your mind
a kinda-me roughly out sketched?

When you make your first cut
do you have a clear vision
of what I'll reveal
have you made your decision
as you press down and carefully cleave
with loving conceiving precision?

When you lay your blade down
do you see I've appeared?
Do you know I'm complete
when the excess is cleared?
Or when you sleep do you wonder
whether there's a less of a me
maybe a more of a me
silently waiting here?
You need to see Sharon Walter's art to fully understand this.  She cuts away at images to reveal something new.  Quite remarkable.
www.londonartist1.com
samra fatima Jul 2019
I m sitting alone with guilt on my head
N regretting on my breast
I know all the people who did worst
But still I m treating them best
I m sitting here on sand
With all blood on my hands
Even I m unable to stand
I m regretting and wanna know
All answers of my heart
So I will take care of myself
I visited that place where
I spent so many years with him
Crying remembering on all the things
When he said its alright
these things doesn’t matter
I still thought will it be matter
I m sitting here in the memories of him
Thinking he’s gone for good
I am sitting here ready to die
Wishing may be I see him in the sky!!
Would I blame him that he didn’t stay ?
Or would I just look away?
-samra
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