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Seanathon 23h
In the stillness near
In the quiet hours of the meadowing deer

In the mourning pain
In the dead of night
In the dawns first crowning and tremulous sight

In the hopes you've handled
In the truth you can't hold
In the courage of every story untold

In these passing seconds
In every here and now
In all these questioning memories of why and how

In the eldest of them
In the youngest of you
In the heart of each moment spent silent and true

In the coffee to stir
In the brewing of cups
In the lofty ambitions spent star gazing up

In the light of the son
In the shade of the moon
In the inevitably of all things too soon

In the echoing mind
In the shell of the self
In the prominent values set high on the shelf

In the breath of your speech
In the fog drawing near
In the timeless long hours which encompass the years

In the youth of your springtime, with your fate every stay
In the Spirit I find you and from joy never stray
This took hours for me. But the gist of it means, regardless of what we humans can see. The spirit is present, if you want him to be.

Secondary quest, the summation of JOY > HAPPINESS. Something I believe in just as I believe the sun will rise tomorrow.

So if I keep asking for it, he will lead you to me. Or the other way around.

To noone in particular. 5+ drafts. Just messing around with syllable counts and line format. #selfimposedrules
a cloak of snow,
coats the remnants of autumn.
streams of water cool, and fresh,
pave their way through the undergrowth.
crystal sunlight shines through
the fractals formed on my eyelashes.
vapor escapes my mouth as i breathe.
lungs full of crisp air.
face raw in the wind.
I prefer to walk alone and pace my walk.
I have done this ever since I took my first step
Before I learnt to walk
And begun to measure my strides.
I do not chide myself or find fault with those who made me learn to walk.
I had to learn to walk because I could not have remained rooted like the plants
and the trees,
Or crawled like an insect or a reptile,
Or flown like a bird though I had no wings.
I did not learn to run;
I did not want to run away from my precious world and responsibilities.
My running could have made me chased
Right up to the very edge of my non-doings.

As is my wont
I still prefer to walk alone
I still prefer to recount the events of my recent past
Lest my remote past recalled
Taking me unaware
Suddenly checks or staggers my measured strides.

I am careful when I take any step on the path of life.
nadezhda Sep 13
Find me where the old oaks sleep,

where waters of mystic foggy creek

push my sorrows far away,

and balm my soul with songs of peace.
myrrh Sep 12
Searching through the fog
Looking for someone... don't know who though
Calling out, but I'm just talking to myself
Like a teenager's Tumblr blog
A girl appears in front of me and I mumble to her
"Are you the one?"
But she grins eerily and begins to walk away
So I chase her, hoping she'll stay
I promise her things; empty words to try and sway
She stops as I run by her side
Glides her finger against the corner of my eye
Brushes her lips against mine
As she says bye and disappears in the blink of an eye
Renhui Sep 10
You said you would take me to
Huntley Meadows
Where you say it is very special
And near your home
A friend took me there somehow
Before you

After a short drive
We arrived at the place
Secluded from the bustling metropolis

A forest of tall trees carpeted with thick ferns
Welcomes us
In the freshest green of the spring

In a few minutes, a bright boardwalk appears
Winding into an open space
Over a big wild lake!
  -- the lake seemed left there for centuries
  -- from the earliest days of creation

"Look look, a snake!"
My friend cried
Looking in her direction below, I saw:
    a tiny green snake hangs on a green twig
    still as if in a hide-and-seek

Twuetwuetwee . . .
Dozens of birds here and there flew
    now on top of trees
    now on marsh grass
In the opening of the marshes
     a birds’ family frolicking
     two baby birds flipping bubbles

Now we are at the center of this no-man’s land
Our eyes had a feast:
     you must have many times enjoyed

Canadian geese swimming in muddy waters
     among wild flowers
Dark grey beavers splashed around
     at the dams they quietly built themselves
Solitary blue herons standing stoic
     on dead curved trees
Red wing black birds dashing across
     competing for attention
And photographers with their long zooms
     also dotted the scene

So busy yet so calming!
For a moment, we are the trees and birds, the snakes and beavers
For a moment, we are the figures wandering through earliest times

Every step I take I take as if with you
Each passerby coming towards me reminds me of you
     -- a nature's lover
     who haunts the world with your eyes
     and this Huntley Meadows not by many known
     -- a jewel of a park
     -- a secret in my heart, like you
As much as I love poetry, written words cannot say
this love that I've felt forever and a day.
I could write a thousand "I love you"s, and it'd be okay,
or when looking in your eyes to the music we'd sway.
When conveying my ideas, words will only help some,
that's why I use my index, pinky, and thumb.

Actions may speak louder than words,
but man it does feel good to say I love you.
The midnight air is filled with
fetid sewage
the city block houses
yards of gravel and broken bricks
decorated streets of graffiti and vomit
roaches skitter across sidewalks

A homeless woman sleeps on the sidewalk
a hundred yards away from the lofts
where I am safe

And I think where did it go wrong?

You lie here every night
with a casted foot and crutches
covered with the remains of a blanket
wondering where the next meal hides

Do you beg or play the raccoon?

This city never slows
sirens howl to the light polluted sky
like a coyotes staccato bark

Cranes reach toward the heavens
with a question to ask God

Can we build to your home and charge a fee to view the gates?

The nightclub below full of drunks
or to be drunks,
bellowing for attention
before riding home with a stranger
and waking up to another mistake
of empty emotions

With a hunger for acceptance
one will venture out
with one of questionable honesty
if the drugs are cheap

And here I am
walking the dirty streets
at one in the morning
in this menagerie of a city
because I can’t


absorbing the sights and the smell
of sick and disgust
but in the morning all will be


The sun will hide the dark
the sky will add color
the homeless will be camouflaged
with the busy crowd
buildings will look alive
bustling with people
the crane will be building
looking for an answer

And I still will not be able to


Fuck this filthy city.

And yet, I wouldn’t call any other place home.
Rebecca Kay Aug 31
She had no idea where she was,
nor where she was going.
The buildings surrounded her like giants,
their threats hiding the sky.
They scared her.
But she still walked on.
She didn’t have a map-
there wasn’t one.
but the street performer on the corner three blocks back,
told her to head down Aimm’s Street.
She didn’t have anywhere else to go,
so she did.
Night came sooner than it should’ve.
She was certain her bones had turned on her,
jolting her apart from the inside out.
But she kept walking.
The two men, sitting together on the red bench,
told her to turn left,
in two blocks.
She did.
She still had no destination,
but she walked on.
Tori Aug 27
One solitary walk for solidarity
gives me clarity on who I am

Independence is when my mind
lets all of my small musings run
freely before my eyes
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