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OC Jun 2019
You are
What you are

Even while carried
To the left, or to the right
Up and down
Even if pivoted
Through each and every angle
Even when you were
And when you will
Forever still


When you reflect
Through right to left
In your perception of the self
You are


So why rely on chiral lie
Deny your mirror form
And celebrate you
That is true
Through other eyes

You are reborn
Fifth installment of the series of poems inspired by physics (see first poem in the series for explanation).
For further reading:

Thoughts and comments are welcome
Ty Katsarelis Jun 2019
Beyond words
Lies within structure
An architect's hidden fabric
Within these pages
Within this
There are
Supporting these lines
A design come to fruition
Let me admire you
Structure who's
Brandon Chutuk Feb 2019
In a chaotic world
We always seek

In romance
We want our other half

In ***
We want our perfect partner

In business
We want our perfect employees

In family
We want our perfect siblings

But that's not how
This cruel world
Manan sheel Jan 2019
Looking at the world with new eyes,
today, when I left my home,
I saw a group of geese, flying
in unbelievable symmetry,
with tremendous grace,

My eyes were free of their dirt,
they were clean and beautiful,
and had the capacity to love
whoever they set themselves upon.
And maybe, I was gifted this scene
by god, for the love in my eyes...

© Manan sheel.
Alexis karpouzos Oct 2018
He says: ''I'm lost. I'm alone. I'm so alone''.
And a Voice whispered:
There are dreams you haven't dreamt
and loves you haven't loved
and light you haven't felt
and sunrises yet to dawn
and flowers yet to grow
and there is more to you
the wonders that you carry into your heart
will guide you farther than you can imagine.
Kat Aug 2018
There is nothing I can give to you that is not past or future.
When my both selves fight, they throw insults at each other like an unhappy couple.
    “You are already gone!” the one says,
    “You are never here” says the other.

And I sing then. I never let any note slip away into silence. Songs in which I’m a magician,
right before the grand finale,
the last vanishing act.
I close my eyes and slowly slice away layers of skin,
so I can become less and less,
so I can sail away on the river without an end,
it’s flow imposing my soul with the authoritative demand to move forward.

There is no river.
I am pitifully human so there is no alchemy that transforms loss into beauty.
Ihe things I have built, I built myself. Like this house of memories
with it’s sole window. The moon shines through it every night.
What an unperfect image,
what my heart endures everytime I reach out only to feel
solance turning into a hell-flamed sky.
The darkness is gone like I will be gone
like everything has gone forever.

There is also no house.
Only the pale waves of a grey-winter sea,
        dualism of being and not-being
a perfect symmetry,
a beautiful fragile balance.
Elizabeth Zenk Jun 2018
I center almost all of my poems
in hopes, they will all be
more perfect and more beautiful
than me.
Em MacKenzie Sep 2017
The sun and the moon; two halves of one,
perfection and ruin, both towards and away you run.
The light and the dark; a balance to complete,
spotless save for a mark, not every goodbye is sweet.

They say you can't **** the future,
it's the future that ***** you.
Not every wound needs a suture,
some things are destined to bleed through.
I'll reveal every reason, a list to only create pain,
it's the end of the season so let's feel the August rain.

The ground and the sky together they create a world,
laughing while you cry, emotions always seem swirled.
The bright and the black; a balance to complete,
a code you can't crack, a win that feels of defeat.

They say you should never waste a day,
because there just might not be a tomorrow.
Not every instinct can be held at bay,
some lives are destined to bathe in sorrow.
I'll treasure every thing about her, she's the one to keep me sane,
but it's the end of the summer so let's enjoy the August rain.

The heat and the cold, they so beautifully compliment,
the young and the old, the strength of detriment.
The colours and the grey, they exist altogether,
but nothing gold can stay and nothing good lasts forever.

Nothing is perfect in this world,
but there's always a balance of symmetry,
the only thing Holy is my girl,
and a prayer was answered when she chose me.
So let's usher the cold harsh breeze in,
and lets feel the heat slowly drain,
'cause it's the end of the season,
so keep me warm in the August rain.
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