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Your heart is my only window to the world.
So please, keep it clear for the view.
Laokos 3d
it's obvious,
isn't it?

it certainly
seems
like it

you see
it too,
right?

maybe
i'm imagining it?

it's probably
nothing

but

your head
is upside
down

facing inward
and
laughing at
itself

and there's
a light in
there

that's always
on

just
thought
you should know
This rose gold splendor
Sinks into turbulent blue
Wrapped in cold chaos
This is a haiku about a sunset I experienced at the ocean. It was a special moment for me, and it inspired me to write this.
Poetic T Aug 31
Wasn't the one that fit in,
   table to myself, an ocean
                          of pressed wood

that I float on alone....


But...


    You know there's always a but,

Never really wanted
                                  anyone
on
       my life raft of solitude.

I just look up and know
that
        there's
no one to obscure
       my view of life...

My ocean is a fishery of thoughts,
                                  that are mine.

Swimming into
  uncharted life choices...

But I'm fine alone,
I'll talk to the fishes
every now
and then.

But throw them back
             when

I've finished with them..
to be a bird of great wing,
pulling across the folds
of cloudy space

intimately familiar of each
turn between misty
white finials

with a quick flap—
out of reach,
into the opening of a
grey mountain—

evading the glimpse of
all but the sharpest
earthbound
eye...


"that space between mists"
© 2020 by Seranaea Jones
all rights reserved
wrote this while responding
to a nice comment from
Ghost of Jupiter
:)
Austin B Aug 8
There's a bird at your window.
Chest cloaked in a lush boastful yellow.
Timid dust brown feathered head,
with flurries of white laced around its neck.
There's a bird at your window.
Singing the echoes of blissful memories,
majestic tones of innocence.
There's a bird at your window.
Eyes filled to the top with intuition,
feathers fluttering with intent,
not a worry in the world.
There's a bird at your window.
Wondering if it knows,
knows what world we live in today,
or if it even cares.
There's a bird at your window.
Bullet Jul 14
My pen is bending
•                              •
Should
I
Write
•             •             •
My eyes are blind
•                             •
Should
I
Drive
•             •            •
When my lights dim
The clips break

I’m struggling  
Too hold everything together

My sky view shows a pilot twist
The sunset spirals while my flight dies

I see the windshield break
But I believe a blank canvas can still blink

I’m suffering
Too keep my passion from being passed on
•    •
•    •
•    •
•    •
•    •
•    •
•    •
•    •
•     •
•       •
•        •
•          •
•            •
•               •
•                  •
•                     •
•                         •
•                              •
•                             ­      •
•                                        •
•                   ­                          •
•                                                  •
•         ­                                               •
• The break down on the dead end •
• My pen scribbles life into existence •
•The one way spilts my paper into gray•
•My drive collided with my sight of color•
•                                                         ­              •
•                                                              ­       •
•                                                               ­  •
•                                                            •
•­                                                      •
•        ­                                      •
•                        ­               •
•                               •
•                       •
•                 •
•           •
•     •
• •
••

The love of life
Drifts away
While my
Bullets create
Turns of O-pens
Circling back around
Too the plot of sunrises
The light begins a new trip
The wind brings back the shattered pieces
The glass is finally made to be seen through
And I start to see outside the review
Maybe it’s true

I’m weird after view.

Prefers solace

Crowds give me haemorrhage.

Too simple to remember.

Too easy to gamble.

Trust became issue

Friendship hassle

I never brew.

Internet connections

are dead end too.

Maybe I don’t know how to?

Smile never reaches eyes,

Laugh as hollows as inside.

Maybe it’s a sign

To define

Myself again.

With unsaid words and

Lost vigour.

A new slate to paint

With confidence and

More self love.

Maybe it’s true

I’m weird after view.

A new classic

In world full of birds eye view.
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