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M Solav Jul 2019
There is sunshine all over my face,
Oh but when will I see the light?
A bright blue veil covers all of space
With only cloudiness in sight.

And figuring out a way out of it
Feels like swimming in the dark
Being dragged by the undercurrent
Holding breathe to find a spark

Yet I’m bathing in the sunlight
But the wind is growing cold
Merriment remains a surprise
With all the things that I can’t hold

So I grasp onto this feeling
A promise in which I can hide
I call vain hopes my fortress
Holding solitude by my side

I see the light is still abounding
Outside the confines of where I’m bound
All the plants are thirst aquenching
Necessity cannot be found.
Written in March 2019.


— Copyright © M. Solav —
www.msolav.com

This work may not be used in entirety or in part without the prior approval of its author. Please contact marsolav@outlook.com for usage requests. Thank you.
__________
Shofi Ahmed Jun 2019
Given that a body
veils its better soul.
I pondered upon
looking at the beautiful rose
whats more does it withhold?
Its heady fragrance
made me wonder even more!
relahxe Jun 2019
Two lovely eyes. The spirit of a child
        in two lovely eyes; — music — rays
        They don't want anything and they don't vow…
        My soul is praying,
        child,
        my soul is praying!
The passions and the woes
        will cast tomorrow over them
the veil of sin and shame.
The veil of sin and shame —
        won't cast tomorrow over them
the passions and the woes..
        My soul is praying,
        child,
        my soul is praying…
        They don't want anything and they don't vow! —
        Two lovely eyes. Music, rays
        in two lovely eyes. The spirit of a child…
A translated poem by the Bulgarian symbolist poet and revolutionary Peyo Yavorov, the so called "singer of the soulful abysses".

This is actually a love poem and the child is his beloved one Mina, a 16-year-old girl. Peyo Yavorov wrote it when he was 28.
Shofi Ahmed Apr 2019
Oh, you already had a look?
Not me I am not hooked
but tell me if you could
how did it look?
Please tell us the truth.

Like the sun at noon
shining upon the rose?
Or a veiled beauty
in the dark hewn
like the Moon?
Druzzayne Rika Apr 2019
It is unknown that gets me of this
A veil, a world beyond exists
Life and reel both
Shows the stills of the worst
But no more
Could mean way more
In ways no one will understand
About what this i
s

A relief to all unending pain
A permanent erase to all thoughts in brain
harsh reality to those still living
The real problem is in breathing
Liberation and freedom
Aren't for the living
Part of brave around
The chances are faint
.

A forever is a promise
Not to believe in
Wonder to eyes
All good lies
Simple truth
Is too good for us
Not edible enough
God don't need us
.

Not here not there
Only best get vacancy
Heaven is housefull
Seven hells down
The burns and fiery thirst
don't stop
Ignition on
You were bad
When you had the chance
.
I wear dark veil,
dark is my soul with all my thoughts,
darken by mystery,
I am fragile and full of power,
I burst into sensuality with softly kisses red in fire,
but you won’t see my bleeding lips winding behind a dark veil,
silky and rain,
touch me if you can,
save my kiss, embrace the dark,
don’t be afraid to love me hard,
with your strength and courtesy,
a sunless storm, kiss under veil,
let’s rule the world, conquer the land.
Buy my book 'The Allure Of Time' on amazon.
Ken Pepiton Apr 2019
Sons of Belial and sons of

whatever is riding the wave of re
ality crosswise carrying
other kinds of whats
so ever
in an umph-epiphanny-trypac,
while balanced on the very
edge
of eternity, sharper than any twoedged everthought,

twixt soul and spirit,
is never
more confusing than now.

whe-
never was, a long, long, doppletop,
oweroath, a cutcoven (blood'n'all)

mental, mental, nothing is real, it's
a project

some kinds of ideas are working in re
ality,
like sci-fi, back in Hubbard's day,

crazy is owned by Patsy, in my mind
and I was not sixteen,

not like you thought. K'oughtcha.
I was fifteen

Historical ideas come in sub
kinds. That's new. Wow works here as a word
denoting proper awe,

that's good, after wattwe done t' awesome 'n' awful.

======
Time kinds of ideas differ in classes and speeds.

======
Balancing and Valencing equivalency ideas,
at the core are gravitational
deter
meaning ful syn chro no ifity ness, aside.
did that make sense?
it might.

might not.

sensibility evaluation, aha. It's here in this set
of kinds of
ideas we all thought possible.
Boo Yah'll 'n'all that..

=====
That peace past standing up under knowing
good and evil and allaboth atthat,
that
peace past real under standing, that

True rest, trust me. Winning right is worth

the effort to play the game. But I learned too late.

======
loser ideas, innumb-mersable fixet functions, not
ideas at at all, states inwaiting attributable

to the whole one feels not part of, a wheel in
the blind
watchamacallit maker's shoppe o'kurios 'n' kachinas

wheels in wheels in belts and straps and beams and nails
and stones
and chisels...

this could be the grave, we can see
it's empty.
Where's my body gone? Aha. Y'know, y'know it's about

time is all. No lie lives forever. Yet
any word once yoost to lying
may be deemed phor
worthy of all we agree to let be in it.

--- flash--- we had eight in a 55 vw, to sneak into the drive
in, drunk on somebodies seventeenth birthedays---

We interupt this broadcasting process from time to time

to stock new seedy ideas, re
deemed worth repeating,
doubletap oath idea from old sicilian proverb untwisted.

Score. Sorry, I thought. You were reading. If you got this far,
you call the winner. But the score remains
a hist oracle idea of a very old kind.

The metagame was won in time.
What eversprings t'mind and I remember promising never to forget....
longest time in a ste of draft since I first appeared here, upon a time
pa3que Feb 2019
the intimate whispers
of a lady in red,

the slippery curls
i could never forget,

daytime spent thinking
about her scead,

at night gently sipping
her stories i’ve read,

she’s written with words,
yet, stands in my mirror,

each day i step forward,
each day i am nearer,

with silk veil
her reflection dances,

like the lightest feathers
through the air she prances,

diamond glass in hand,
she’s in my red wine,

i’m sipping on her words,
getting lost with mine,

‘i like you’
i admit,

‘the red and taste of wine’

the candles i’ve lit,

‘i like you’
i say
‘for you is the only i.’
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