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Be True to Self,
Have value and wealth,  
Be good to your body,
Fresh air and great health.
Take care of your needs,
MOST DEFINITELY!!,
If you Do All of this,
In Life you'll Succeed.
You want to be around,
No time to be down,
Self-care and well-being,
In you, will be found.
Your body is your temple,
It is just that simple,
Consume good things,
Be Light and stay nimble.
You have One Body,
so be One with Yourself,
Continue this Journey, and
Be True to Self!!!


B.R.
Date: 9/24/2024
The early garden
brings a deeper peace
than any I have known
no sound but wind on leaves
no neighbours barking dog,
for even he must sleep,
his daily yappings not begun
new air, fresh and clean
whispers soft among the green
a drowsy yawning background hum
a space to sip one’s tea
and taste the morning yet to come
Star pupils, interstellar eyes,

gazing across the frozen nebula

at stick figures in radiation suits,

lovers intertwined with reactant valves,

planted into unearthly soil,

a distant light from over our shoulder,

the good comet returns,

there might be an escape pod

for intangibles after all,

and once inside, images of moonbase love

and alien encounters,

that neither mocks the comically misjudged

visions of yellowed science fiction,

nor longs for some utopian future,

an environment that begs escapism

without denying humanity
Northern Poet Feb 24
Addicted to the puff
No sign of giving up
Even on the tube to work
I just can't get enough
That fruity vapour
And the morning rush
A tasty blue razz elf bar
And some candy crush

Give me a hit of that sweet sweet nicotine
As sweet as a sweet sweet tangerine
A morning shot of dopamine
Get that **** straight into my bloodstream

Puffing away at those magical clouds
Fighting your way through the morning crowds
I wonder what these people would think out loud
Times are up and then times are down
But no matter who's around
My lovely lost Mary
And her nicotine cherry
Will keep me sound

Give me a hit of that sweet sweet nicotine
As sweet as a sweet sweet tangerine
A morning shot of dopamine
Get that **** straight into my bloodstream
Bekah Halle Feb 10
I come home a foreigner.
The sun is warm and welcoming,
But the environment has changed.
Curiosity is beconning,
But with gentle eyes.

I come home changed.
Last time I was more timid,
This time, a little stronger.
Last time I thought my weaknesses were insipid,
This time, they are part of me.

I come home curious,
As to what it might be, I ponder.
The family dynamics.
The opportunities that I may squander,
In fear of becoming my truest self.

I come home braver.
Even though on the outside I may be frailer,
Even though.
I might not be, but opportunities I can tailor,
So, it is with courage I move forward.
Bekah Halle Jan 12
Take down the constructs,
Tear down the precepts,
Tie down the lies.
To
Embrace love,
Engage curiosity,
Enlarge.
Bekah Halle Dec 2023
Was my stroke a cruel, twisted **** up?
Or one of divine luck?
Has it not taught me compassion?
Anger? Acceptance, how to ration criticism?
And laugh when I muck up?
Now I breathe gratitude,
My world has opened up
to new experiences, people, circumstances,
even living in new towns, cities and states.
Mastering rehab, new knowledge and careers.
Working through old fears, sure, I've got new ones,
But who hasn't?
Connected and trusting this journey.
Now that's the silver lining!
In 2012 I had brain surgery to remove an aneurysm and AVM and had a stroke during the procedure. After 10 hours of surgery, they put me in a coma to let my brain heal but I did not wake up until 40 days later.
Joseph Miller Nov 2022
The mind ...
a wild garden
where healthy
and unhealthy thoughts
pop up out of nowhere
Discard the weeds
Gather the fruit
and harvest the rewards
of a beautiful mind!
Harry Roberts Jan 2023
Turned off the gravity to lessen the weight of my shadows.
But did that ever work, or was the melt down what follows.
Trying to focus on anything other than me,
Maybe that made it easier when it was I who undid me.

You can live in a dispassionate, destructive state,
You can keep adding worries and doubts piling up your plate,
Darkness falls like an avalanche moving at an exponential rate,
Its not 1 into 2 but 1 into 3 then 3 into 9,
Then when every part of your persona is taken apart by its design.

Who is left and who am I?
What is left when the birds won't fly.
Who will care when the clock strikes 12,
When the day is over and your down on yourself.

When the world has had it's pound of flesh but still wants more.
The fatigue is suffocating expanding from my core,
It fills me up until it leaks like tar from my pores,
Muddles my mind twisting 1 thing into a 1000 thoughts.
Steve Page Dec 2022
The panic speaks
eloquently and persistently,
telling me that I need a new filter
by which to drink in, to inhale
the good
and like an extreme diver, hold it in
while exploring the dark places.

You see,
the panic we feel on the surface
only serves to take us down,
while it denies us the means of rising again.

But if I can learn to pause,
to take in the good,
the wholesome, the nutritional,
then I can ready myself
to face the dark
and, having done so,
I will find the light again.
Listening to a therapist
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