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Being grows in earth
and the water of the womb
where heaven pools
its special nourishment.

Body, once born,
is a lone, flying crane
resisting with an energy
of singular intention.

But mind must live
in the world’s garden
among a few bright blooms
of insight, many thorns
of righteousness,
gnarled roots of rage.

The body’s path is straight,
narrow, its promise certain.
But mind must choose
at each which path to take.
there I was
a mere dust mote of humanity
                                      in this place
this spiritual monument to life
                                          to history
mindful of the way
                  it wrapped its snug
                        but silken gloves
around the hands of my perception


your smile was a tease of affection
  as you enquired how I could
                amidst all this wonder
  wax lyrical about a curve of railing

how it felt to the touch
        a spiritual experience
                            where souls soar
among the grandeur
                  of a twinkling night sky

soothing reflections of deepest blue


it ignited senses
I marvelled the way  
  countless artists/architects
                                      brushed
the bare skin of nature  
                              against my own

how it united us
        gave birth to concepts
                      I had yet to encounter
how it reminded me
                        time after time
                that we are all connected


you mocked me for that concept too
almost as much as I mock myself
what a enormous statement to make


yet as countless moons
                    have waxed and waned  
I have learnt that connection
                    between all living things
does not mean we love
                everyone and everything
      it simply dwells amongst us

an unspoken language
      spanning generations
                    of human experience
            
not always by mutual agreement
                                but in moments
where the heart does not need
              to harbour love or fondness

      it merely knowingly- exists
Eleni Oct 3
So much can be read
from those graphite and inky
Furs which sweep
across the Velvet Doors.

Three hundred and sixty
perspectives of light
Enamoured by dying
crystals in the night.
Eleni Oct 3
My lover's lips are tender.
Tendered by the reed from
Which he sings a thousand
Waves and transcends to a
Dimension, which my eyes
Cannot roam without
Confusion or awe.

For the ways in which
He captivates the
Crowds of souls
Who ponder the extent
Of human excellence
Is through the mystic
Vessel of shining brass.

When his blue eyes wax,
Like glassy moons
Reflecting on cool waters
I pause. And breathe.
And float. And smile.
Uncontrollably- full
of warmth.

And even if I was
Letting heat condense
Making my angst
Obvious to he who
Instigates the malevolent
Creature within;
I am immediately at peace-

Not with myself. But
With the thought of
His love, for his craft.
Each and every
Whisper and growl
Is a hue of his
Kindred spirit.
This poem is dedicated to one of my biggest inspirations, Pat Parker.
Derrick Jones Sep 28
We are nothing but vibrations in the universe
This movement is a blessing or a curse
In some ways, it’s a choice
If my voice is one of honesty
My frequency made of decency
That is when I let love in
Surrounded by my friends
I let my life begin again
With no thought for the bitter end

But I must remember
As I dismember the lies that lock us inside
We all have illusions of agency
Though the control box has a vacancy
And those with misfortune did not choose
Their portion of this world
The atoms with which they twirl
The vortex of thought in which they swirl
We are all along for the ride
We run and we hide
But when physics is applied
There’s no free will there to find

So what do we do
With this ultimate view?
Let’s embrace each sensation
Pay attention to creation
Not simply seeking elation
Or striving for elevation
But flowing through the sine curve
Merging with each twist and swerve
Through the ups and the down
Thankful to be around
Gratitude for a connection to the ground
The mellifluous magic of sound
The technicolor infinities that materialize
When I bat open my eyes
Or begin to fantasize

In this boundless ocean of beauty
I can weather the storms
Simply passing waveforms
Bolstered by the knowledge
That nothing last forever
But hope is here to stay
Merely a second away
And even when my skies are gray
I remember I am just a string
Energetically swinging to and fro
And when I touch my fellow threads I glow
A spark of connection
I make a mental correction
Weaving myself into this web of life
I am not alone
I am safe at home
My down is another’s up
I cannot understand this pattern
All I know is that it matters
So I will be thankful every day
That I have a chance to play
That I may not have a will
But I know I am the way
For more poetry and essays, follow my blog on Medium at https://medium.com/words-ideas-thoughts
Thanks for reading!
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