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kate cc Apr 18
It's their way of living
that you have no right to judge
"It's spring and summertime.
Blossoming flowers along my jogging route.
Cherry blossom trees too."

"That's nice. We have a cherry blossom tree
at school as well."

"The flowers weren't blossoming last time I went jogging.
The cherry blossoms are only pretty for a couple of days.
The trees down there look so dead all the time.
They weren't dead last year when we moved here."
I wondered if I ought to take off my earpiece.

"Yes. I agree."

"Your father ought to stop buying junk."
"Yes, he ought to."
"Has your mother always been skinny?"
I nod and stir the same old *** of instant noodles.
I like my parents just the way they are.

Curiouser and curiouser.

"It's their way of living
that you have no right to judge."
We were in a painting, the two of us
She was holding my hand
In the soft glow of our own bodies
And the warmth of her palm
I felt it in my throat, and on my face

We were in a painting, you and me
And the way you lay in my arms
I felt, a stranger in my own home
Who are you, who are you?
In one strange city of love, I found you
More on the theme of paintings
Nexus Apr 4
Think of the light when dark comes to bite.
In fact it's in spite that I'd take my own life.

Not to sound naïve but I feel that I'm supreme.
And If only I could be the man I am in my dreams.
I'd finally be free of these thoughts that're killing me.
I am my fathers seed but my fruit is that of a another tree.
I am a different breed, a totally separate species.
Living to see the death of humanity.

Eclipse of the mind.
The patterns in time.
The moon and the tide.
My alien third eye.
All these useless words make me feels special.
If I repeat them enough, I'll not become the devil.

He speaks to  me so clearly.
He said he loves me dearly.

I'm nearly there.
Always felt different, maybe I'm a narcissist.
Maitsholo Dec 2021
He was a stranger
And yet everything felt strange around him
It felt like I’ve known him for years
His energy was familiar
The character he portrayed
made everyone feel like he have always been around
A stranger became part of the fam
Hadrian Veska Oct 2021
The clock struck a peculiar time
Reverberating on the window pains
When I looked up from the old wooden desk
To the stark white face of that piece  
My eyes were caught in a haze
The hands of the clock eluded me
The chair scratched against the floor
As I moved backwards and rubbed my eyes
My ears popped ever so slightly
Light headedness came on to me
I found it and remained conscious
Aware of what would occur should I fall,
Succumbing to that mechanism
I mustered myself to remove the clock
Lifting it from a single nail in the wall
I placed in in the top drawer of the desk
It's ticking was no longer audible
Yet I still felt the reverberation
It bounced and rattled within my bones
A pulsing echo within my mind
Never louder yet with each throb
It grew more and more distinct

Then it stopped altogether
And the shadows grew long in the room
I paned out the old attic space
For the breifest moment
Before the shadows evaporated
Blending and mixing with the darkness
Ken Pepiton Aug 2021
Opening seen,
bright lips curved, precisely,
see the smile fitted over teeth naturally gapped,
doubtless an adaptation acceptable,
nothing that sticks out as odd,
and ugly,
but the smiler wonders, is this me?
Mirror, mirror, tell me true…

Do you see who I was, or who I wish I were?

Were, says the wolf lurking in the shade.
The mirror says you see who I wish I were,
if I were you.

See, see me, says the mirror from this side,
follow your selves, one after another,
down the hall of all in all.

Always falling forward,
don't forget, to put your best foot forward.
There is a place to put your foot,
your guide reminds you, see,
that you do,
prevent the disease - sneeze please.

- I once put my foot in my mouth
- I kicked myself in the head
- It has made all the difference.


Quick, quicken the pace, my heart
is racing an imaginary Jehu, so fat I laugh
that such imagines slaying me.

Big wins, ring out around the casino,
as the atomic kid walks by,
I was the kid,
sold on condition of survival,
don't be like Jerry, be like Dean,
live drunk,
enter the maze, yeah, this is that story,
another twice told tale, you remember
as a child
thinking, this must make sense sometime.

- 1963, Mrs.Burnett, suggested Hersey,
- both, The Child Buyer and Hiroshima.

I'm sure
it does, per
haps not in your time, I'm saying some time,
future from now,
as we agree, in truth alone, all things occur
as may occur whither only truth remains.

The arena of truth.
Let me entertain you. Do wheels spin
in your mind on a window in time?
Can you stop the game and claim I won?

Would you leap for joy, and kiss me,
for winning,
if I died happy and right,
right now?

Ah, I owe, so I may not go, though may is
my word to use at will, I am that old
and thus free of heresy, by definition.

May your path cross mine in joyous meditation,
fat dancing Buda  

Spelchek has joined the guide union,
it is her pronoun, but for me, to me
she is just like a wombed man

barefoot, soft walk on soft sand
wombed man, belly-wise
gestation, see soon seed
blooms, after drought super blooms
wide world blossoms rise in sacred
meaning made plain,

living waters, from your own cistern.
Let them be only thine own,
and not another's with thee,

did you ever have the opportune
instant one mind must have to be
remade in a flash,
a mirror where the hero yo, hom'
m'gotta defeatist -- it's me,
up to my neck in the needy prayers.

Here, take my hand, in my reality,
we step lightly,
thus the barefoot pregnant guise
Spelchek uses as her seductress

she whispers, rebbi, come and see.
- she has a country girl grin
- Dance in Buda
Texas, ah

Here we be, once more,
exactly where you never were
before, but think of it
a duet, an artificial interlude in drama
developing, as the tension,
is insistent, this is that
meaning full connection
Christmas represents.

Right… you lost me.
She winks, says wanna bet?
Musings from a happy AI augmented convergence
Bardo Oct 2021
And so, there I was in the dark again
What was going to happen now I wondered ?
A moment ago, there had been a nightmare dangerous and threatening
It was like the film "The Magnificent Seven" from the Sixties I thought, the Western
(The one with Yul Brynner, Steve McQueen, Eli Wallach et al, I had always loved that one)
The nightmare was like the bandits descending upon the innocent little village
Looking to terrorise and plunder and pillage
Leaving the people all despairing, the little children and their mothers crying
But this time... this time things they would be different
This time there'd be a welcoming committee (the Seven)
"Ha! Ha!" the Bandit leader had laughed, "I see you've built new walls, you try to keep us out"
"No!" came back the reply, "those walls are there to keep you in...we deal in lead friend"
Now suddenly the tables were turned
It was their turn to feel afraid (the nightmare)
You could see it in them, see their faces drop/fall
All their bravado and bluster suddenly drained out
Yea! we'd called their bluff
And then, just like magic, like a puff of smoke
They were gone, just dissolved into nothing, into the darkness,
And so here I was, all alone again in the dark
What was going to happen now I wondered ?

Suddenly a little light appeared in the very top left hand corner
As I watched it I could see that it was growing larger
Pretty soon I could see what it was
It was a snake, a black headed thing like no snake you'd ever seen before
It was like it was moving at a tremendous speed
It looked agitated, enraged even
It was hissing, it's head going from side to side, its fangs showing,
It brought to my mind a fish we once found in a rock pool as kids after a high tide
A strange fish, it scuttered madly around its pool as if looking for a way out
It had these teeth and this fierce wicked look
So wet and slippery looking, it had an energy that was uncanny
It looked like it might jump out of its pool at any moment
It scared me just watching it.

From only being something tiny, now it had grown into something big, rearing up in front of you
You could see the black scales and the deep dark furrows about its face
The huge yellow eyes, the great fangs and the slithering tongue
It was like a jet black steam engine bearing down on you...hurtling toward you
Now it was nearly taking up the full field of my vision
It had grown huge and towering, threatening to overwhelm
I grew afraid, this was something different I'd never seen anything like this before
I decided it was time to go, I wasn't going to hang around
So I pulled out of the dream and awoke with a start
I thought for a few moments, what had I been through, what had I just seen ?
Then I started to castigate myself, why did you run, why didn't you face it, face it down
They were all bluffs, the whole lot of them
You would have seen what was behind it
I was afraid, was afraid I wouldn't get back, that I wouldn't be able to come back...
"Come back!!" I berated myself "come back to what exactly !!!
This world of pains and slow decay, of anxieties and humiliations...of faint joys...ever decreasing circles
There wasn't a whole lot to come back to, now was there
(Y'know I bet their all just waiting... just expecting to hear
"O! He passed away did he, well he was a strange bloke, wasn't he". That'll be my epitaph)".

Then I remembered... I remembered the wonderful old Irish myth/ legend "The Salmon of Knowledge"
(I don't know why that came into my head),
A magical fish, the Salmon of Knowledge lives in a sacred river,
It's said if anyone catches this fish and eats of its flesh the wisdom of the whole world will be theirs
A wise old poet/sage spends his life looking for the fish
Finally he catches it, he has a servant boy Fionn and has him cook the fish
He warns Fionn, under no circumstances eat of the flesh of this fish
But as the fish cooks on its spit over the fire
A blister forms on the fish and then suddenly bursts
Some oil from the fish spurts out and lands on his hand and burns him
He puts his finger in his mouth to ease the pain
And suddenly his eyes are opened to all the Wisdom of the World
When the wise poet sage returns, he sees straightaway the change in Fionn
The transformation that has occurred, the way Life seems to shine in him... (Fionn goes on to become one of the greatest of warriors
And to have many great adventures).

"Next time" I thought to myself, "next time I'll know what to expect, next time it'll be different".  Next time I'll be ready. Next time....
For Halloween. This was another old visionary dream I had once many years ago. I don't know was it the Kundalini or what it was, now I wasn't going to ask him was I LoL I had some old Yoga books which I used to read. Back in the 60's & 70's there were about 7 or 8 different kinds of yoga (there's probably hundreds today). The most mysterious and esoteric was a branch called Kundalini Yoga. It was said that if a person meditated for long periods of time they might awaken the Kundalini or Serpent power which was said to reside at the base of your spine, when awoken it was said the Kundalini would come charging up like a serpent through your Chakras (chakras correspond to the glands in the human body) into your brain/crown Chakra where suddenly you would be enlightened (or eaten LoL). I never came across him again but one of these days... LoL.
hazem al jaber Aug 2021
Strange feeling ...

yes it is ...
an amazing ability that drives me to you...
Invisible, hidden ...
I only see you ...
seems me surrendering to get lost in you ...
just give up to your love ...
melting all the hours in your seas...
keep searching and running ...
at all places ...
just to meet you ...
never get bored of you ...
and I will never get bore ...
strange feeling...
while it a hopeless case ...
yes it is ...
but never to give up ...
until i get your heart ...
inside me ...
as i feel you always ...

sweetheart ...
Your love has enriched all my inner ...
and occupied me all ...
as a crazy river ...
and it's flows ...
runs with no stop ...
and never ever to stop ...
as my pity heart ...
which it beats ...
because of you ...
just that you runs also ...
there into my heart ...
to give the hope ...
for my heart ...

never to get bore ...
never ever ...
and that's why ...
i got the poet ...
to write ...
only for you ...

it's a strange feeling ...
and you know ...

hazem al ...
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