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Shadow Sep 23
Reality is an illusion
That shelters from the unknown
But the walls easily dissolve
You just must accept the idea
You might never return
Alex Sep 2
Jeepers Creepers
heading your way
I may not drive
but i'll hunt your soul anyway
a delicious treat
worth the run
can't wait for the rush
it's going to be so fun
darlin you're not prepared
for what I'm going to do
It will be worth not making it out
Alive at least
cuz I know you'll be missing something
and it's going to be mine
so what will you give up
what will you trade for me
because honey I'm going to take it all
last thing you'll remember is the fall
surrounded by feeling
surrounded by something
why don't you come find out
cuz I'm going to leave you guessing
the suspense almost palatable
you will know what you truly desire
but who knows if I'll give it
but I will take something
whether you like it or not
the question is
are you brave enough
to face the unknown
does a sacred stone
still retain its worth
if it was never taken
from it’s hidden earth?
could it truly be
a treasure trove
if no one sees
its alluring glow?
is my mind right to tell me
that invisibility doesn’t cause irrelevance?
or is that just a way to cope with
the ever feared unfounded-forgotten-pestilence
tumbledry Jun 27
I don’t know what hurts more
The absence of his voice
Or the not knowing if he’s okay.
irinia Jun 7
when I am silent I become the absence of silence
I'm thinkig your body, I'm sensing your mind
my hands rehearse the circle theory,
the openings of the horizon hiding in plain sight
time plus time is a world without hyperbole,
but the courage of enchantment
even the fields dream about the all in one
cause it's poppies time and panta rhei
I S A A C Apr 10
smoking like a chimney
exterminating the negativity within me
each **** relaxes my worrisome bones
each stroke relaxes the perpetual unknown
from this vice to that
from peace to combat
the contrasting colors within me
is why I'll smoke like a chimney
until cheap thrills **** me
Carlo C Gomez Apr 11
her hesitating beauty
over a hundred days
each a silk thread
each a dark pearl

kissing specifics
in the empty space of a matinée
hologram of the new sun
burning like prime meridian, the hunter's star

ripples of inhibition, making waves
and confessions in
the deep end of a pool

always submissive with a smile
like holding her breath underwater
irinia Mar 27
so many words and still
the essence is trapped
in the discreet quanta
in this autobiography
of milk in my tears

no wars to fight
nothing to prove
the ancient love will find me,
the unknown you
the right verbs
the earth of home
the cycle of life
in my dreams

the round present immerses me
in gratitude for all my selves,
the depth of coherence
the bottom of the sky
in this simple truth,
my heart is my home
irinia Feb 17
your eyes hot like a bullet
mine engulfed by the equinox &
the silences I walked away from
we are two or more
two people who shout at each other letters
that have never touched any alphabet
who throw beautiful ideas to be caught by twilight
the hour is always unknown
as if we watch each other's destiny
what comes next only the oracle of Delphi knows
or the roots of entropy maybe
I keep some thoughts in the straitjacket

we guard bridges, ancient castles in the sky
we guard the world not to turn into a casket without music
who invented this question mark
that we owe each other happiness
I wonder if the trees have unspoken meanings
do they turn overnight into telescopes to quest
the loneliness of stars, as we do

I might turn into a shadow
blinded by darkness
we draw uncanny shapes,
everything a circle can endure
with our mouths full of pebbles
Carlo C Gomez Nov 2022
in passing with the clouds,
and their weary structure,
and their idle loneliness,
and their struggle for tomorrow.

You and me and the image of an immense tree; satellites hanging from its branches like minacious ornaments; sending frightful messages to far out places; convincing us television is real but our lives are fake.

in passing with the shadows,
and their elusive silhouette,
and their active aggression,
and their march for tomorrow.

You and me and the image of a school bus sliding down into the ice...
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