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They say things must change
With me the whole world stands still
Life just stays the same
Nothing changes when you change nothing
How do  we fair
Being scared
Thinking about death .
I woke up this morning
Feeling like
I was drowning.
In the pit of despair.
Desperate to feel calm
in the midst of a storm.
How long can we carry on

In the midst of adversity
We panic
We hide behind a mask.
Fear of the  unknown  
Asking God (Why)
We don't understand it.
Here today
Gone tomorrow 😭
What's the point of all this sorrow

Some say there is no God.
That's not true
Price of pride
There is a fall .

Don't pass the buck
It's the sin of an fallen world.
God always at fault.
For the things that go wrong
So stop and think
What you can do right.
Sink to your knees  
and  pray.
Zywa Dec 2018
Rainy days mud
my garden, the golden root is rotting

my wishing well spills over
I am spent

flaccid roads to the city
get me nowhere, no one wants

to pay for that, the world stands still
my little son is sleepwalking around me

by touch, cow and calf look
at me and frown, sighing

vapours muffled by the fine droplets
of rainy tears on the globes of my eyes

the sachets of water in which the world
always is upside down

a violet hangs and thinks:

mud will become waterproof
slate, eventually
Golden root: Rhodiola Rosea, it grows in Siberia and is also called Roseroot

In French, the Viola tricolor is called “Pensée” (Thought)

Collection “Pending rain”
Julie Grenness Feb 2017
It all came to a standstill,
A day when time stood still,
A beautiful world, fogged and grey,
Grief was its own land, okay?
But the sun arose the next day,
And we woke up anyway,
When the past was  a distant land,
Time stood still, not so grand........
Feedback welcome.
L Marie Oct 2015
That's what you are,
Blunt with charisma,
Daring from afar,
You are eloquent
In your awkwardness
That matches mine
Sally A Bayan Mar 2015
(Haiku X 4)

Something sharp's inside
Piercing deeply soft walls of
My throat, chest and heart

Can't swallow...can't move
In this too long a standstill
Punctured by fish bones

Deep inside my flesh
Cut by a stiletto knife
Life's balms can't heal...why?

Even when pulled out,
Mind never forgets the pain
Life's fish bones leave scars...


Copyright March 2015
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

the world is slowing down

a mist of milky gossamer moves in
my will and things to do
the clear shapes of objects
are growing soft and dull
the moment's urgency
yields to my ponderings
   of possible decisions
abstract rigidity arrests the words
things stay forever as they are

   is it a sense of death
   that delicately touches on my neck
   and steals from me the comfort
   of continuous change?

life seems to walk away
in long and measured stride
the kitchen clock has never been so fast

it measures time
from here up to the stars

it counts
and blows
the moments of my delicate eternity
one by one
into the past

* *
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