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You charmed me
Seduced me
Chanted you
Kept me up for
Starry, Starry
Nun kenne ich dich,
die andere Seite von dir.
Doch ich steh noch dort drüben,
Weit weg, weit weg von dir,
Und mir.

Du drehst dich fort,
Um, ohne zurück zu sehen.
denn du wirst nichts, gar nichts vermissen,
Verfehlen, ich fehle dir nicht,
Weiter gehen. Nach vorne,
immerzu, weiter gehen.

Nur du und Ich,
Daraus wird wohl nie was,
das muss ich jetzt glauben, denken
denken, denken nur nicht fühlen
Nur was?

Was soll ich fühlen?

Leere, Stille oder nur dich

So wie es jetzt ist, ist es dasselbe,
Das Gleiche, oder auch nicht.

Wer weiss das schon.
Jeder, jeder, nur nicht ich.

So wie es scheint.
Ron Conway Mar 17
The brook-side meadow's quiet, shadows gone
Overwhelming green struck in private hues
The stream bank channels and tree roots confuse
The light is magic dancing after dawn
There in the tangle hides the leprechaun
There in the tangle his mischief is planned
Scratching his bearded chin, pipe in his hand
Prides in his trickery, crusty old con
Harassed and hunted by unthoughtful souls
Not any wonder he's social inept
He is pursued for the gold he controls
But they do not know it's not physically kept
Pursuit of the rainbow earth not apart
The leprechaun's gold is found in your heart
Im a vague ****
Made bankrupt
Able to lay claim
To anything I touch

Pull my people like puppets
Til they need Me
Leaving is strange
our spot.
been there,
many times.
alone and
with you.
it is special,
like us.
St Paul's.
Seanathon Dec 2018
Let it go
Release your hold
Lie back at sea
And be

Turn your eyes
Up to the sky
Into the fire
Stare back, daringly

Cover not
Your wavering life
Of the underneath
Be free

For all is heaven
All is earth
And all around
Is all to see

Open your hands
To grasp no more
Open your mind
To stars ablaze

Let night consume
Your morning plans
Let waters wash
All fear away

Let first your thought
Be not of me
Not of yourself
But all of these

For all is heaven
And all is earth
And all around
Is all to see
Beneath St. Elmo’s Fire
Crystal Freda Apr 2018
She lay in bed asleep
until morning came.
She woke up
just the same.

She got dressed
in her favorite red shirt.
She ran downstairs
also in her favorite blue skirt.

She said a pleasant hello
to her father and mother
She ate her cereal
next to her brother.

Enjoying her bowl,
she soon felt a bit of pain.
Just a bit to her arm.
Then she felt it again.

She turned to her brother
in an annoyed soft of way.
"What are you pinching me for?"
"It's St.Patrick's Day."

She rolled her eyes.
"I shouldn't give you a pinch"
"Why is that?"
"Because you are the Grinch."
Wrote this on St.Patrick's day.
james m nordlund Mar 2018
It's not my breath
That enlightens mind.
Not my agua uplifting
These outstretched limbs,
Forever reaching, nor the hand
Always bringing another with.

Not my thousands of rivers
Of blood forever flowing,
Enlivening life eternal.
Nor, my right heart's unbeat,
Spiritually evolving somatic
Revolution with all, the Earth.

Not my striving to thrive,
Leaving no footprints
That followed none,
Echoing in all ways, always.
Life isn't mine, being is
Relation, I cannot "give it up".
latest twig of poetree   :)

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