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it’s the drastic change
from the crisp winter breeze
to the salty air
that never fails to amaze me
the mere hours that are able to alter everything
flipping my world upside down
the airport is a simple portal
for the airplane that becomes
a catalyst for that change.
Cassandra Jan 2022
When I escaped my hair to find a new continent,
my heart promised to wait to beat
for someone I’d meet at the end of the world.
Nights of hollow walls and new forms of hunger,
brought to my knees against the wind,
learning to hold my own hands in the dark.

Convinced by the American dream
that there was salvation in freedom,
I’d smile and weep when I was stuck in the rain
because it was a thousand blessings on my skin.
Pain in the guise of passion,
worn gently round my neck like a scarf, a noose.

And somewhere lost in snow,
overlooking the starlight quiet,
reflected in waves calling me back to their lighthouse,
it was suddenly too warm to wear anymore
when you spoke soft the fortune of finding ourselves,
together at the end of the world.
neth jones Jan 2022
unspared during my travels
prepared by an exchanging world
                              of appearances
i came to this place
at the base of
            a hill of course fell
    a whipped traveller i am
by the vital Spring weather
            i am met
welcomed a night of shelter
led the way by a lace of monks
discreetly
     i am put up
     residence
     bowed into an alcove
     and left be

sun settles gloaming
bleeding out into the night
the night moves on
        steeping
it plays on my solitude

a temple of awakening
freed from need of sleep
plush in the gloom
     of this unfamiliar lodge
pulses lune from the lamp
calling me to something family

          suckle

peculiar flares of incense
my heart at pace
gusted by the lungs
gushed with a nourishing charge
      of remedy

i stand lightly
i take a stroll

    timid

subtle bells
quake little tings
under a propelled circulation
engine utters
quivering the air

Sudden :
it buckles
yawn out from under a gallows
the spaces between the temple walls
drop away
fathomless theatre opens maw
barriers have dissipated

       crumple

i am a mite short of distress
held
in keeping shallow
maintaining a sensible program
i give out breath hesitant...
     and gratefully retrieve

i stand weakly
with care
this is temple
me, a guest
my travellers bed roll remains stowed :
i am a fool to be swallowed

a courtyard
compounds this pressed element of nature
i reached its edge
this building acts the amplifier
a spiritual device of development

bade by hemorrhaging darkness
i wade beyond any lamplight
each step taken when the tide pulls it
mottled perfumes now exhaust in punches
                          (powering from the baying boundaries)
look up
a royalty floods across the night sky
                          cropped by the yard rooves

chants and bells eddy about my ears
pants and tones mediate
worship hounds the clock

i finally do what is best
follow myself back the way

i make up my bed

(retire or
as a shade
i'll find my way between the walls
and flourish)

        chuckle

i regain valued humor
i concentrate
close eyes and slow my heart once again
make peace in this temple of strobe

tomorrow i'll face agricultural land
and the sunlight
i'll continue my selfish travels
bedroll bound to my pack
my pack tight to my back

i shall weep and honour the departed
as i continue
this little i have learned
herfragilemind Dec 2021
There are people whom believe to escape the mind, you must travel and see the world. Little do they know they are just carrying the baggage of their hearts. Running away will get you nowhere, it will only lead you face to face with reality but to write, it is where you discover the beauty of ones heart, the inner child you thought you had lost. If you must escape, look within and try writing.
Elm Jul 2019
A man went soul searching
After feeling life's longing
He assumed his soul abroad
On some peak, tied with silver cord
Admitting he was bored sick
He picked a walking stick
..
  ...
     ....
         ......
After many a walk
He found his stick could talk
'You seek your soul' said the stick
'Why don't you throw me in a creek?'

Having done so I was surprised
Sitting here
It's myself that has arrived.

There is nothing in all things
Unless the soul is participating
winter Oct 2021
a child approached me the other day
and said
"I just want someone to hold me"
this child
who didn't know me at all
who trusted too much and too fast
began to pour onto me their every sorrow
told me stories of the people who were hurting them
told me stories of their family
and the people they like
and the people they'd like to kiss
and I
was paralyzed
I wanted to say,
"You can't say these things to strangers,
You need to be careful,
You need to keep these things to yourself"
but instead,
I heard their words and I heard myself
at that age
crying out the same words
the same pleas
to strangers the same as I
and I saw an opportunity
to breach time
and talk to myself again
to save myself by
saving this child
I said
"I understand, and that's terrible
and I am so sorry that those people are hurting you
and I promise you it is not your fault
and I promise you it will get better
and I am here for you if you need to talk,
or to vent
and I am here
and I promise you
and I promise."

I know that I'm not dangerous
but still I
don't want this child to believe it's okay
to talk to anyone like this
so I
try to fulfill these wishes
try to help this person
without encouraging that behavior
even though I know
because I Was Them
that it will do nothing
to end the desperation
and the loneliness
that they will try
again and again
from one to another
and another
to fill that aching void that only wishes to be seen by someone
or
to be held

It is dangerous, to be so young and need to be held.

I feel so old, being for the first time on the receiving end of such an encounter.
It makes my blood boil
to think of the others
who've taken advantage of such

I have to
help them
before someone else
hurts them further

even though it is tricky

if I can help, at least one person

maybe I can be helped

that long ago

child

could be helped
Carl D'Souza Oct 2021
Takes me places I haven't been.
Shows me vistas I haven't seen.
Shows me sounds I haven't heard.
Gives me experiences beyond the words.
Simon Piesse Oct 2021
Open and Shut
Open and Shut

Shut

Binary yesterday

Re-set

Today

The network is pregnant again

Open and Shut
Open and Shut

Open
This is an ode to hope, to travel and to poetry on National Poetry Day 2021!
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