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Seanathon Feb 8
When words sprout limbs
And grow as trees in the summertime
Steadily until they bare their fruit
Then my thoughts will be hanging within reach
Would you pluck them as you'd pluck some fruit?
And take a tiny bite of me
Or at least of my thoughts?
Would you, wouldn't you?
Would you, wouldn't you?

This might be a duplicate... I'll look into it later.
Chicken Scratch,
chicken scratch,

   Scribbles, smashed against the page.

You are my Poem.

~Robert van Lingen
Seanathon Apr 2018
When they curse you
And they blame you
When they passively
Or in all other ways
Attempt to shame you
Into fleeing as if
You have nothing to be
And no reason to exist
Or to write such things
As these and this
When they try
And try
And YOU find yourself
Your world
Suddenly spinning
On brand a new axis
It is then
In that moment
Of parry and precaution
That you must decide
How it is best to be
How you currently see
And can share such things
Beneficial to those
Who WILL always stray
When you hoped they'd stay
But as for me and my house
We will ardently seek
And oftenly pray
To show kindness to those
Who cannot
For the truth of them
Or the life of them
Or for the anger they store inside of them
BEGIN to see
The ways in which
That the sacrificial lamb
Has blessed us all
With this
This my friends
Is why I say
Be strong in this
And we'll walk that way
Because of him. I'm always encourage to pray in place of hate. To love in place of disgust and distrust. To protect myself and my family, yes. But to also be an ambassador for goodness and truth in this world. As I will ever be as long as I'm here. *nod*

NvturalMystic Mar 2018
A cigarette sat between the crevices of her coffee flavored lips while she expertly puffed a few smokes.
Her mind tasted like dying roses, sweet thorns and honey.
She was a 3 am disguised in moon dust and I never knew how to differentiate her from day and night.
An old scribble I had made years ago.
Kush Feb 2018
My hands reached for yours
Holding them in between
Just like it happened
In all dreams, I had seen

You smiled; I smiled
"You are beautiful," I said
"No. You are." You said
As if in protest.
Justin Lai Feb 2018
I wish I could
make a bouquet
out of words
left unused

Mama always said
not to waste food
why not words:

the unit circle
The Boy with
// W47 “The Boy //
Seanathon Jan 2018
Never forget
Though you will
That you are a mountain
Formed by two forces
Meant to last
Slowly moving
Clearly never
Be not content with what they call you. Call to yourself and you will respond.
Seanathon Jan 2018
The sound of snow is a beautiful thing
Catch every snowflake, you could not
But the earth can
Like the marching ants in the fruitful spring
Snowflakes need not tiptoe through the house of winter
Instead, they patter a song to sing on the frozen ground
And we, as humans are helpless to stop it from falling down
With tiny little pinprick sounds
The reign of winter falls all around*

End of storm
Beginning of season
This one... I really like
Seanathon Dec 2017
How dare he, discover these:

     The intimacy before its time
     The constant revelations
     Untangling and revealing themselves
     Slowly over the course of passing time

How jealous still at last am I?
To be on the outside looking in
Wishing that I could be within
For the discovery of such things in mind
Most envious of the unseen. The fog which I assume arrives each morning. Hence why...this is as it is. *nods*
Seanathon Nov 2017
The desire to be a creator never burns out
Like the immortal flame that it is
It may waiver, it my wane in the blowing wind
But it never dies, completely becomes extinguished or unhinged  
Just so long as you keep it calm and still
And close to your true heart within

Because the essence of desire is the creation which will linger in a state of wonderment
Wishing only that the original thought could be
All which you could've hoped and dreamed
About and for*

Mesmerizing isn't it?
The flame unseen
It's like walking on the beach, endlessly, but not bean permitted to leave with a single shell or grain of sand.
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