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"And then one day you came back home
You were a creature all in rapture
You had the key to your soul
And you did open that day you came back to the garden

The olden summer breeze was blowin' on your face
The light of God was shinin' on your countenance divine
And you were a violet colour as you
Sat beside your father and your mother in the garden

The summer breeze was blowin' on your face
Within your violet you treasure your summery words
And as the shiver from my neck down to my spine
Ignited me in daylight and nature in the garden"

In the Garden,
song by by Van Morrison
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This touches me deep in the chest cavity,
the palpitations of its internalizing echoing cavitations,
a warning, go slow, choose your words wise and
accrue, the mood,
for the ache of creating, hurts, fevers me

for I am but steps away from the garden,
and its violet hues infused with fresh sunrising golden hazes,
with kindly warmth, with warming kindnesses,
touches,
caresses my shoulders, begs me to stop crying,
overcome, for I am overcome, eyes dropping wetting droplets,
for find myself at the intersection,
interlocking crossroads
where perfect perfection
begins and must
meet its natural endings

thoughts of capture, retentions, preservations,
all impossibilities, challenges,
see me, begging itinerant
muses
in the neighborhood
to guide my hand, teach me newsome words,
mine feel so old, so unworthy of this moment,
hearing me solicit their
Treasure of Summery
Words
but they won't,
excusing themselves,
that this in particular human has exercised, exorcised,
all the tools in his ever diminishing capacity,
time insufficient to learn a new calculus of
addition

and bid me calm my heaving chest,
seize my tears, just add them to the brackish salted waters steps
awaiting away

live in this moment
live within this poem,
revisit it frequent,
weep no more,
your stilling heart weakened,
take fast what is given now,
and be contented,
your treasury chest is full,
overflowing with this summary of
summery



but I am not, cannot…

7:48:am
jul 22
I don't know
where lavender grows,
I know only where it dies.

Where dusk holds on
'til it reaches dawn
& swallows up her light.

I don't know
where lavender grows,
I know only its demise.

When sunrise brings
forth the colour in the rings
of my violet, violent eyes.

▪︎
• mica light •
▪︎
Violet rose ...

And darkness fell ...
My imagination wandered ...
Through the window of my madness ...
To a woman ...
Her beauty ...
And her tenderness ...
Like the violet rose ...
Which it only ...
And no other ...
Refreshes my breath ...
Like the most delicate breeze ...
Takes me now to you ...

My eyes got lost ...
And traveled with wings Madness...
With the magnificence of your body...
That resident of my memory...
To feel the warmth...
In whole my body...
From the fragrant scents...
you are the rose in it...
Alone...
and the unique one...
For the gardens of my imagination...

Yes, my love...
Alone only...
Rose...
With me...
Now...
In the bed of my imagination...

Hazem...
KHY Oct 2023
The peace inside me is cracking blue

the hatred of men and the loathing of women
***** lonely tombstones from coast to coast

and I can't help but think
our violets are rotting at the root
Ismail Nasution Dec 2022
Roses are red
Violet are blue
The more you think of it
The more it haunts you
Bree marie Sep 2023
Black and blue, I've been painted by you. How have I been such a fool?
Abuse
Paul NP Jul 2021
When I breathe my body is relieved.
Where once timber, now limber.
My posture is vibrant and silent.
I'm cleansing my Violet.
Violet where once crown, no longer a frown because
I'm grounding, I'm grounding until my soul is unbound.
I'm breathing, and when I'm breathing laughter reveals me but I focus, I focus and I don't let it seal me.
I'm cooling, I'm cooling, and soothing my soul, so that it may stay open for one and for all.
I meditate
I abbreviate, small glimpses of light.
So that the sugar of my solar may fall out - from my sight.
I am serious, and my breath is sinuous.
It awakens my mind,
But these competitive thoughts: they do not oblige.
So I keep breathing and breathing for full conscious feeling and through this procession my spirit is right.
Spirit pouring out of my pores.
I am rich with inner vision.
What sun shall I bring up to clear division.
What light shall I pour out tonight, Oh Sun
I am ready to stand up for what's right.
Deep Breathing Sessions
Raven Feels Jul 2021
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, the world turning inside out---no such thing as salted mint:)


like a wild hint

taste a glimpse of salted mint

tackle the caramel passions

cinnamon enchantment of imagines

no bit of lost roses

happiness in measured red doses

remain in the lavender's fair violet

to hesitate the sour act of deficit

to refuse the golden boil of the sun

bring a stop to the good from miscalculating the sum


                                                           ­                       -----ravenfeels
Raven Feels Jun 2021
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, never been more frustrated for not remembering a dream:_(

deja vu brought to view
even better this time that was like the twisted flu

an erase my system moonlighted on me frustrate to repeat
sunset a truck corner an autumn lasting in the backseat

forget that the ocean sailed and orange witches golden
a town of ancient camps imagined clean desires and broken

any subconscious stubborn to hold on inner fantasy?
cause me can't reach a fulfill a journey come to and ending duality

violet unaware a desire everlasting bel air
do dreams come true flasher in sharp not matter mere???

bare me the renaissance a century in ancestry fading memory far  
pieced in my head puzzled mad realization aiming stars

magnetism the hell it means dungeon and dilemma bolds
sharp steeps deepen the voices  running struggles put to the sold


                                                                        -----ravenfeels
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