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"To know to think,
not think to know."
Formed at spin
into a vase holding
the flower of
spring that says:
"Instead knowing
to dont know,
not knowing to
know" like fields
after winter do
..just remember.
Nehal 5d
Spring recalls a scene;
Lo! You self-loathe for the one—
Who unheard your cry.
Elo 5d
i swore this night would be the last
and as all clocks tick towards finality
enters the approaching doom
jagged shadows—
spiralling notation.
pilose and beckoning,
as the burbling temptation stains
the soft dress of a bantling star

and my limb, verbose, rises
en-pained and un-sought, a mind
which scrapes pigment to tear out
a soul's sliver
of cognition, yet fumbles
and the pattern rests still;
still, only in the eye
my first poem on here! thanks for reading
The night grows deeper.
Into my mind I descend.
This dim light endures.
Raven Star Feb 27
I exist.

But i need to do things
I don't really like,
And i dream
Of a different life.

So, am i truly alive?
Meaning of life?
Man Feb 13
Fall on your own sword;
If you must die
Do it on a hill
On which you shall be revived.
From where at its summit & base
A well should spring
Of water which you may both wade,
Clean enough to be drank.

By both, either side,

Whether Abrahamic or Pagan
Both religious & spiritual.
By whatever side walked
Around the waterhole,
No matter the kind of animal.
Any coast situated near the ocean,
Any forest covered with trees,
Any open & vacant clearing.
Lazarus & Alban
Man Feb 12
Itself made evident
By the very discourse & action
In which sees your engagement.
Others around you protest,
But they are written off
Just as wrong, as haters.

There is nothing
So much as struck lightning
Or the entirety of the Earth shaking
Which could wake you from your rest,
Unpeel your eyes, of
The curtains drawn by slumber.

Whatever such natural event;
The magma already cooled,
The fault line already cracked,
The water has already receded.

It already happened.

You went exploring down a river
And ended up stuck on an island,
The boat's left adrift
And you can't remember how to swim.

Where have you gone?
Where are you?
Where have you been?
Maria Feb 7
I’ll be waiting for you at dawn,
Where the night ends,
Where birds chirp in whisper
Like elves from fairylands.

I’ll wash my feet with cool dew
And I will be calmly awaiting,
Where pure thoughts are twisting with osiers
And creating dreams, fascinating.

I’ll be waiting for you at dawn.
Come some morning. I’m here,
Where dew is cool and all-pure
And our dreams are near.
Blind to the subject of being blind in love –
does that mean I can see?

Do I believe in the belief; of love at first sight
isn’t faith believing in that you cannot see,
that which you hope to be?


But I could close my eyes to a better scene –
when we go out and it doesn’t go so well;
we should have made it a blind date!


            Now this love feels blind.
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