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In the big city, our eyes are always cast to the ground
Everyday, we bustle and hustle
Striving for a slice of the paper,
the digs
and the chicks
For once, if only for a few seconds
go outside and look into the night sky
Take a break and give it a try
See the most wondrous of creations
See without all that artificial light
Be enraptured by the mystic starry sky
Notice the enchanting twilight canvas
Appreciate the cosmic tapestry of glittering diamonds and gems
Disconnect from social media, be rooted in the moment to that spot
unplugged
Put on the brakes, stop pondering your lot
live in that moment
Its beautiful, isn't it
Mona 10h
i was born
i lay in a cot
my heart beat rang
i sang and i sang
i gave my voice away
as i matured
naively i was lured
into adulthood
without a hood
naked, i stood
out of breath
no stability
looked for divinity
but nothing concrete
looked back
empty and bleak
but my eyebrows were on fleek
submission
to an ideal
i ride
but i never lay still
i dreamt
but dreaming is to ****
**** reality
**** your own insanity
**** your own vanity
no baby
please keep yo "sanity"
Whenever I glance at the sky at night
I always admire the Moon
How it's shine alone
Yet it's gives the sky a beautiful sight
I wish I could be just like it
To be able to
Hug my fears
Drawn in my own tears
Carry an empty heart that is not won over by emotions
I wish I could walk alone on my own sky without any intruding star.
Being alone
love is
a shotgun shack
along the bayou
in the middle
of nowhere

love .  .  .
. . . is
a maze of estuaries
where the channels
of two hearts
cross the paths
creating streams
to the soul

© Mahogany Ree
5-29-20
Windows in my house
Gateway to the outside world
Gateway to my soul
in your first life, you are a human, and express yourself
in your second life, you are a dog, only able to bark
in your third life, you are a tree, existing in silence
the nirvana will be your salvation: god-approved nothingness

humans can not imagine such a state, we only imagine the netherworld:
heaven and hell are places of gates, fire, lights, gardens and trees
so, does the afterlife take place on earth? what is the case?
do the dead, invisibly, populate the earth like in "the sixth sense"?

a famous playwright once stated that the dead dwell behind curtains
but they don't do so, in reality, they flow through our souls
like rivers through a channel, our souls are tools for ancestors
we do not feel them but they sense us strongly, they scent us

souls governed all human acts that were ever commited
souls govern all human acts that are being commited right now
souls govern all human acts that will be commited
a soul's texture is invisible, yet it weighs precisely 21 grams

everything i wrote about the afterlife and the soul may be wrong
i am as human as you, reflecting and presuming; my hands are tied
i would like to be a tv-preacher but i am not addicted to the dollar
god-channels are flodded by donation banners; humans buy certainty

this certainty, though, only lasts until our final breath: then we will know
then we will really know but we can't tell anyone; and that's our torture
i appreciate life but there are things we will never figure out while living
ludicrous uncertainty is drifting through my mind: the end of the dream
Today is a good day.
She is a lost soul.

She wonders, yet she still could not fathom the urge to be made whole again. And then she wanders, a soul thirsty for new beginnings.

She was looking down at the big city—they were so alive, heavy breathing's can be heard around; footsteps were rushing—smiles plastered on their faces, yet they were so alone.

They were made out of different stories—but there is only one thing they must find and feel, to be found and be whole. Besides, they were not so different—if she is a lost soul, what can hinder her to find her one true love?

And then there's him—he was made out of soft pillows, he was an another poem she's excited to read. He was an ink—giving another color to a blank page; he was a story she will never get tired of: to read.

She was so eager to see him every time. To feel him—to look at his heart; yet he was an almost to its completion—and then there's her, so broken—humiliated, hurt and blinded.

There's no space left for her. And then she wandered again. She tried so hard to forget him—she thought he was the one who will complete everything that is lost and broken; yet she was left with no other choice: to be a wandering soul, again.

Maybe she was made exactly like that—no other form of strings will tie the knot, other than herself.
Oh to learn how to love you.
Take     five    
my friend
take five for your soul
things have been hectic
so loosen up a bit
from the tensed up thoughts
and endless lingering affection
we needed at the moment
     take      five    
for a moment
rewinding our soul back to its origin
where we could see everything so clearly
rewind, take fives
at this moment
so we could communicate to ourselves
better again
archived April 2020
I saw you in my dream
I hugged you and kissed you
Where is my hope?!
I am a soul, without you

Mohamadreza Baseri
I am a soul, without you
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