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Where Shelter May 2017
The Prism Through Which We See Clearly


light saws our untrue selves with acute angles,
piercing our holistic pretenses, daily disambiguation features,
our sheltering disguises into our essence refractive elements

this is not a cute rainbow poem - run from here

it is a dissection of our true nature
why belabor, why elaborate?

through the prism
you color-coded self, tracted,
a mapping of your intersections,
what each color speaks, needs not an explication,
your hidden humanity comes to my eyes, in full revelation

at last I see you clearly

the lost and black withered limbs,
the stirring, leaping, enflamed flaring, never ceasing, breathing elements that mark your singularity

did you know your eyes are constant singers?

through prism, each note heard distinctly, as it rises uplifted,
your song, mine for observation and weeping exhalations,
your song, the production number of thy own composition,
through prism, our interior visual disinterred and released,

here I must cease, for what seen, grievous weeping deepens,
from the glory and the pain my blurred wetness overwhelms
the clarifying crystal useless when tear coated

through the prism,
before the full length mirror,
my own, unowned, never could be owned,
'mirror mirror on the wall,'
warped weave of tissues, mine,
the song sounds, mine,
from lungs disgorged
myself, diagnosed and displayed

of what I see, spitting speech
ceases and desists,
the only thought permitted, repeated,

where is my shelter now?**

5/13/17 6:49am
So Close.

You sewed your mouth.
When it rained in your head.
For what it's lived.
& what it's not.
You sickened yourself to stay home
for me.
Come see me.
& lay in this bed.
Your algorithmic speech.
Sitting sweater.
Tears seducing the *****.
Its dance.
Its cry.
You to be the muse.
You to make the sigh.
Of love & relief.
& with visions so delicate.
& prompted.
You play the strings then slumber.
Kept warm under.
Passing the sound.
& around it went.
& still goes.

Garrett Johnson.
Fifth time around
I thought everything had an outline,
Everyone had an outline,
Poetry even had an outline.

There are no rules here,
Wake up,
Step outside of the box,
Color outside of the lines,
Break the rules.

Nothing matters.
Somewhatdamaged Nov 2019
Flowing like water
Going wherever I need to go
Cutting through the way
No narrow path can stop me.
I am the water
I am a river
I flow through everything
That's all I know.
Nothing is ever what it seems,
I am the sea
I am the ocean.
FloydBrandon Dec 2019
At the summit of a new day rising is a binding light
dancer be moved by the sight of the tunnel
and groove through it blindly.
amuba Nov 2019
Fingers on the strings
Singing the songs of heaven
Flying between clouds with our wings
Amused at this holy creation

"If only it was real"
From an old brain
"Why, does it lack the feel?"
From a fresh brain

Internalization of concepts
Painting our life with your brush
The idea of fear or even dare and courage
The infiltration of the human touch

Through the lenses of a child once in a while
When all we knew was just dream
Never questioning the impossibilities
When all we knew was just jump and swim

Corruption of our mind
Living with all these lies
These human and his kind
Unfortunately, this is just life

But once in a while through the lenses of a child
When all we knew was just dream
Never questioning the impossibilities
We could just jump and swim

The restrictions
From age and from family
The limitations
From ourselves or some other entity

Through the lenses of a child
When thoughts were pure and untouched
When all we did was just dream
Let’s jump and live the life of impossible just for a moment
For every moment...
The eyes of a child have a very powerful imagination, let's remember our childhood and have the courage again to dream like we use to.
Karisa Brown Nov 2019
I will regain strength through your words
I will regain power through my choices
I will earn my keeping through work
And I will rejoice in all that is coming.
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