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Ken Pepiton Aug 28
Wrong turns, bad luck or no luck,
lucid recollections now six decades gone,

still,
points of reflection, from ruling class
reporters on what in Hell is happening,

while
time to stay one's mind upon meaning,
in the simple definitive act react act react

pneumatic logical breath in, breathe out,
distinctive other way, breath out, breathe in.

Putting first things first in picker experience,

we pick all the fruit on one tree, previous
to moving on to another tree, precious
memories, how they linger, and
with gladness flood my soul,

as gladness is our happy state, glad to say.

------------------------ trilling wohold on
on the bus, red satin black fringe, oh, my soul

Nine billion, or so

nobodies, lacking charisma
as they say, that worthiness some

seem to radiate, those affected say,
worth-shippedness certified appraisals

from conscious attenders to words, message
signaling
my start… minding my own business, changing
line upon line of nothing at all to nothing but this

my personal comfort zone, nonautomation ostent
atious waste

of whitespace, vertical panels, virtually lensing
reality, scrolled to veritable infinity
at the core of what a person is
in the common space our windows paradigm
on all time's contextual stretch of our shared sense,

our common sense, at cognate word level, basic
bottom mind sense, at cooperational deontologic

whying, when it comes to wishing others were
in some steady state afinity with me, against lying,

in wait, quietly hoping to trick before being tricked
into belief construction zones, sans hard hat or tools.

--------- Boss mind, hey
boss, Patron, se, patriotic soul man, woe, wombed
or un, man all the same kind at mind level, emotions

's where, all the difference there ever is, begins,

Genisis, to a child reared in post war anywhere,
if your mind allows empires represented by ancient
totems, rampant beasts believed to defend us, under
God,
who forbade ourkind, our unfallen, innocent spirit mind,
participation in one part of living reality, as far as we have

seen, with our Google Earth eyes, and our JWST eyes,
and our own inner eye, I am, we each know, anyway,

with knowledge now a given, a lie, all children just believe,
the first impression, what a lie does, told, and untold true,

subtler than any beast, but delicate matters, points balanced

under law, not under grace, bottom line rule for being
American to the core, where a person keeps its pride in just

being among the living, during days difficult to endure, just
if I had
known, as a spirit, what a spirit mind may imagine, as real as,

ten years, after starting to think, why am I justifying the real lie?

Genisis, seven days, was likely long told when moons were told,
shown, with story, tomorrow night, moon, you hear me, so old,
the initiation story, watch, mark this night, you here, me sold

in gratitude, in debt to more, by far, than I may think or ask,

inventers granted knowledge of wit, with which we think to ask,

what lonely God, comforted only by Wisdom and whatever spirit
is, free from mortal prejudice, paid attention to idled words spirits

sparks, from a movie about sentient machines,
and cyborgs, enhanced mortal mind wit changers
witchangers, endangered species writ remainders

woe, endure to the end, Joe, where y'gwanwidat gun inya ha'dja n
n na nanana to the when, any where any time, one wishes to ignor

all the peace we make at once, little tiny boil about to become rolling
as the latter rains arrived in my valley, today, to keep wild fires at bay,

all we know is we agreed, we sure could use some rain, amen
all we said, once is we agreed, life is different in spirit and truth,

on any given day, good gets judged, habits get checked, wishes happen,
and a men as a principle sylable, sayable spell song sung men t'al haps
men kind ness wor th a sayable
as haps may become the we
in legendary gentle peace
for no reason,
just cause

its poetic right useness

we think we
work, we think we work, we
be hum us yes humusyes we,

Ullyeseesus, amen, in spirit and truth as we may imagine

after, breath, 3 P.M. alarm, and no attached what for sense…
I know what it was for, a week ago, now it is for whatever it

interrupts… taking time to consider certain outlets, enough to

Run it up the pole, see who saluts.
A spurtual contemplation of global news knowing after effects, breaths taken used to calm me down, keep me from whichangery over reaction...
Many say they are searching,
For their soul mate, this time,
A soul mate, would be a soul,
Inside another person, that knew,
The one in you, during a past life,
Not the picture, in your mind.
You would have to break barriers,
Race, age, looks, wealth…
You would know, as soon as you met,
True happiness, total trust, respect, love,
They would, accept you the same, no binds.


The original : Tom Maxwell© 10/03/2021 AD 3:15 am
yıldız Aug 19
Butterflies in a quiet dawn appear,
threads of souls that circle near.
Through cycles of death and cry,
they wake anew beneath blue sky.
Wings remember what once they knew,
reborn, connected, forever true.

They fall, they rise, they breathe again,
from ash to air, from loss to flame.
A whisper born of lives gone by,
now riding light beneath the sky.
In every wing, a world made new,
rebirth in motion, pure and true.
mysterie Aug 19
how am i meant
to know what my life
is going to look like
after highschool?

will i be in university?
studying what?
what job will i have?
where am i living?
what friends do i have?
did everyone leave?

how am i meant
to know
who i am
entirely
at 15
if most people
dont even know themselves
at 35?
date wrote: 18/8
raaaah
mysterie Aug 18
i dread talking the truth,
letting those words flow out
of my brain
and out my mouth.

it's seldom.

i dont speak my truth,
i am never honest
with my real feelings.

wont it just hurt people?
date wrote: 18/8
might be a favourite..
Andrew Aug 15
Men don’t cry
But
A real man cries
yıldız Aug 6
Stars above, so soft and bright,
Shine on Gaza through the night.
Hold each child in quiet grace,
Bring them hope and a safe place

Let them dream, let them play,
Let them see a peaceful day.
Hear this prayer, so small and true.
Love and light for children too.

God above, so kind and near,
Keep the children safe from fear.
Give them beds and skies so blue,
And let them laugh like others do.
Love in its fullness comes but twice: first, in the mirror of desire; second, in the ruin of illusion.
Gracy Patel Jul 29
Nayi jagah thi, nayi silsile
Chord ke aaye the sare hum sare apne purana mele.
Pehli baat, mila hath,
Mene paya jese koi apna sath.
Din b din guzerte gaye,
Kal k anjan ab apne bangaye.
Per khusiya kaha rehti zyada din,
Risto me aaya tufan bhi.
Per kehte he wo dosti hi kya jo tik na sake,
Ha narazgi aayi thi dono taraf per itni bhi nahi ki dil mil na sake.
Me naraz, wo naraz,
Phir bhi jaha piche me chhut jati, teachers ki dictation me thodi dhil ** jati,
Wo pichese chup chap dekhti, aake nazdik jorse wahi dohrati,
Use pagal ko lagta me samaj nahi pati,
Kon bataye use, wo sunke mann mein me muskurati.
Per us din muje bhi kuch gehra samaj aaya,
Sachi dost bhale ** naraz, mene to phir bhi use apne pass paya
Friendship
Vox Solus Jul 17
Have you seen blood?
All drowned beneath the flood.
How many care?
All you may see—
How fair.

All those who fly, dead.
All those who jump, low.
“Oh, how poorly fed!”
“Oh, what did he even know?”

He never learned to live—
For all he knew was how
to be naive.
This poem is about how we ignore the sufferings of others to only run for what we call ‘beauty’ or ‘elegance’. Everyone is beautiful it’s just everyone isn’t everyone. I am not you and you are not me.
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