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Whoever architect
The Universe

At first
With a noble purpose
The Sun may have been made
Then
The human may have been
Designed

Among human
They may have decided to gift
Some as an artist
Among Artist
With the soulful ink
Came Poet/Poetess

That time
Something may have gone
Wrong
Most had writer's block
Most often

Finally
A moon may have been made
To amuse the poet/Poetess

Since then
They are musing
They are mused
Genre: Observational
Theme: Stimuli
Writing should never be about who liked it or disliked it. Personally I feel peace, to write events, daily life activity without an end. I don't know topics, I don't know how to blend words like the professionals. Furthermore I don't have that time to decorate beautifully, but honestly I never cared about getting it right and I don't compete besides doing personnal best.

To be precise, we are among those people who (need to) have patience to listen, to see, to feel, and finally process all those stimuli to get back with a better reflection. How much we know them is, how much we have touched their lives.
The extra mile is the factor what makes someone to write. And luckly, I am among that someone.
Finally I write to empty my head.

If we will not write, who will?
Genre: Experimental
Theme: I got ink, I got thought, I got imagination, I got emotions and I am real.
[When do you write?]

Sometimes
I sense the vibes
What need to be
Defined
In exquisite way
Then
It happens

Other time
I feel heavy
To carry what is inside
Let it out
To release the weight
Then
It happens

One needs to believe
Chirography
As a comfort zone
Genre: Experimental
Theme: Human emotions
Mystic Ink Plus Dec 2018
Since a long time before I know you
I was trying to picture how
My happiness looks like
Now, without any doubt
I know it, you to be true

The deeply placed eyes of yours
Speaks a common language I understand
That’s why
I feel comfort with your vibes
The more I think, the more I find you closer
I intent to understand you, even more
With a futuristic goal
You can find a greater space inside my mind
A stimuli, never felt before
There you reside
Embrace a better version of ourselves
A family
A lady with a beautiful soul
Will you allow me to write more?
What you meant to me

You are beautiful
Let me remind you, in case you forget.
Genre: Observational
Theme: Language of love needs to be simple, Let the naive understand
Mystic Ink Plus Sep 2018
In response to the same act
We often notice
Some stay silent
Some scream
Some cry
Some behave as if
They are heart blind

Perhaps we all
Have something
For this
To behave differently
For the same stimulus

Something inside
That makes us
Something inside
That breaks us

Something close to the understanding
Something how we are raised
Something from our circle
Something from the past reference
Genre: Observational
Theme: Why we behave differently?
Mystic Ink Plus Mar 2018
Often
I challenge myself

That time was to make
A robot for a smile

Mimicking 21 ****** expressions
What I learned from Mr. Bean,
I tried.
Nothing cause change in it’s ****** curve

Then,
I tickled, where I use to feel sensitive
Hoping if, it may work
Nothing cause change in it’s ****** curve

[Last hope remained]

Let’s play, a fast pace
Game of Antonym / Synonym, I said

Me Vs. Robot
1. Human (I said) | Robot ( It replied)
2. Day (I said) | Night ( it replied)
3. White (I said) | Black ( it replied)
4. Cry (I said) | Smile ( it replied)

In 1/100th seconds, how? I asked
“Hehehe”, it curved.

I remember,
Probably, that was the only time
Robot smiled.
Theme: Humanizing Robot
Druzzayne Rika Feb 2018
Blank expression expresses enough thoughts
the unlived unemoted invasive grows
undefined remaining unused words
undelighted lazy curves
untriggered to any stimuli
selected to roam mindscapes
honest to the truth.
Jack Thompson Mar 2015
I've written one or two just for you.
A feeling turned thought.
Add it to the pool.
Chaos for a swim.
Cancerous muddy ink of mind.
Maimed and **** - it's mine.


I have a thought that defines you so clearly.
Tighten all my vowels and trim the fat.
Only...
You've come back to me like this stray cat.
Your a thought unsatisfied unfulfilled unfinished.
I had chipped and chipped away.
You're unblemished.
Forever swirling in my ink.
Done with you never.
Is what I'm starting to think.
© All Rights Reserved Jack Thompson 2015

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