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Goddess of USR Oct 2023
In you I find the ultimate expression of love In you I inhale the essence of life In you there is serenity In you there is solace In you there is a vision for beauty In you there is a resolution In you there is a rhythm In you there are more solutions than problems In you it is a dance on the edge that spans between faithful and faithless In you there is optimism In you there is conviction In you there is confidence In you there is only us In you there is the whole world and beyond In you it is everything and nothing at once In you there is the ideal harmony In you there is liberty In you there is love In you words are superfluous In you emotions In you evolution In you transcendence In you wholeness
For CBM of Dublin. Sent with a thousand kisses. You know where to place themđź’‹
Strangerous Aug 2022
Terror evolves in the pure open space,
where sparked by the doubt of one who resents
the consequence of living and knowing
nothing of the terrible, terrible
confrontation, it propounds incessant
problems of being and ceasing until
entangled Reason entangles itself
in implications of implications,

confounding the space, conceiving a place
of refuge bounding Nowhere’s edge,
where ponderous dreams of life without care
augment the power and anger and dread
of Terror itself, thickening like air,
glutting the infinite heart of the head.
© 1981 by Jack Morris

Hear the song on Spotify:
https://open.spotify.com/track/1RCLiNkAd7ZhPRocraPX54?si=0f31480d156c4121
Anais Vionet Apr 2022
I’m not always a fan of poetry - if I actually take time to ponder it
- it can be so irritatingly rhymey, kind of fussy and needlessly intricate.

Compare my love to a summer’s day and I’ll probably yawn and walk away.

Take a nuanced look at the transactions of *** and consent,
and as adults, we may wonder where the romance went.

You know, it only happens once in a while,
that someone with wit and individual style
comes along with something to say
and scribbles it down in a poem or play.

Here’s to the creative visionaries,
to Dickinson's unique and dreamy imagery,
to Shakespear’s highly stylized, run-on sentences
that manage to speak to us over the centuries
or challenge our stifled, bourgeoisie banality
like Nabokov’s use of stunning vocabulary.
Billie Marie Jan 2022
it is like
a knife
the ice hot
burning fire edge
the warming glow
of Self embrace
broiling and crackling
like that campfire
by the little lake
you swam
all the way across
only days before
the layer
of being a girl
was stripped away
the tipping point
pointing back to
that black hole fire
that is all the life
there is to live
tipping to one side
with cringing ash
disappearing off the lips
and one way
absorbing into
clear oceans
of infinity
we only come to transcend the shadow of what we see
Just Grace Jan 2022
Lay rest your flashing glaze of wishes
Down received for a moment
Breathy bow lifts to hold
and waver across few measures
Sienna and topaz
Sienna and topaz
Singe and simmer
Shine and glimmer against
All the thoughts born and dead

What makes you eager to rise
If it is not sensing gone away stories
or nursing the aches that lunge through anywhere else but here
While you replay and delay all creation
the blossoming goes unseen

She, the maiden is reigning
Une palais Ă  remplir
Une palais Ă  remplir
where she is her own queen
Her oceans made of no time channel open mouths
flooding its spill

She waded into The archer
Downed in his own vessel he mistook himself the pilot of

He, marooned in the surrender of damp and fertile places
where in Death he is still recovering
Soldiering and sullen
Soldiering and sullen
He is choking, and can not stop to see or savor the blossoms rising from his own till
M Vogel Oct 2021

Drawn out from within,
the heart wants  what it wants
and loves, what it loves

Deep,  calls to deep..
a little boy  only knows
the word,  feel

There is a light
that transcends the dark
through touch

When pages, become  lit--
a lonely-flame's  only spark
A touch

a touch..
.

--thank you..  so very much.
youtu.be/SMNWIG8HAc0
Nat Sep 2021
I don't want to die
A ghost is an echo
I want to be the opposite
Shout through me

Can I leave my eyes here?
To see but not be seen?
I dream of dispersal
A trillion motes of
Every place there's ever been
Everywhere at once

No walls to see through
No body, no mind, no stride
Transcendence of senses
To fade into the blue
To know every side
To know and nothing else
Ayesha Sep 2021
Bare monstrosity
carved for me

protected, decorated
Unleashed for me; I

Love myself ugly so— ugly,
so lovely a word, and secretive.

Could not dare measure

the lengths and lengths
of its shadowy stretch.

So willingly blind, I
lurk oblivious into my depths

Lost to the haze

my drowning—
my stillness. Lost;

but a memory, clinging,
stays:
Lush gold fields
subsiding to moor.

Then the fire they lit.

Ripped for me
emptied and burned for me,
My own beloved lamb.

I wish I yielded,
melted; wish I shivered—
pleaded.

I wish I wasn’t such a god

wish I knew the taste of
my blood, the burning redness,

the undying throbbing of it
The ever-coiling restraint of it

Rattling chains, I wish I had.
Marked with my name

So terrifying this transcendence
so terrifying I—
14/09/2021
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