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MindMooring Sep 27
Sun
Sun shines even though it dances from
East to West.
Bhill Sep 23
The cricket was only doing what crickets do
Walking slowly up the walk looking for more crickets
Looking north and south, east and west
He or she appeared to alone
Where were more crickets
Where was the orchestra of fellow crickets
What happened

The wonderment stopped when this cricket let out “crick-it, crick-it”
The orchestra followed suit and sounded out in cricket harmony
Cricket harmony so welcomed by this once lonely cricket

Off it hopped to join in the symphonic noises created by the once hidden fellow crickets

Crick-it, Chirp, Crick-it, Chirp, Crick-it......

Brian Hill - 2019 # 239
Felt a bit silly this morning..
Let your cricket orchestra sing out!
m h John Aug 11
at the edge of the west
i found a place
far removed from
these blinding city lights,
sky scrapers and telephone wires,
where the moon
is the only street lamp,
and these cypress pine trees
out number the population of people
a place of its own
where the run off streams
and mountain cliffhangers
feel like home
Star BG Jun 13
I look to the East with deepen breath,
freeing soul inside love.
I look to the West with dancing steps,
freeing my soul inside dreams.
I look to the South with open eyes,
freeing soul inside visions.
I look to the North with hearts song,
freeing soul as my mind follows.
I look up to the sky with gratitude,
freeing soul integrating light
I look down to Mother Earth,
freeing soul as my feet ground.

Ground in celebration of a new day.
Love connecting to directions. Each one houses different aspects of greatness
All birds fly towards the north
When the weather goes to be hot
And fly towards the south
When the cold spreads the wings
And destroys all nests

Except my birds
They fly towards your heart
Asking, screaming and shouting
You are the worst spy
When they meet your birds
They sing a deathless song
Making every poor land converted to be kind
And the loosing mind returning his mind
The old trunk gets strong
Branches covering with colored and smart
Roses

The bees put their honey
Making me taste it as your honey
Love, that makes me in happy
All the world gets funny
And the birds dance with harmony
The fishes swim in circles
Making the water spreads atoms
All over the world, that makes the flies tends
Once the left and the right at once

The important my birds get wide
Not distance, but from my sight
And I will whisper at your beauty ear
I hate my birds as they go to yours
That is obvious for all viewers
But I wish to be with them by yours
the love changes every look and make one forgives all worst from his love. if the love governs the world the beauty will spread
Lilli Sutton May 9
That summer in West Virginia:
washing myself clean
with brown water
from the Ohio river.
I saw gar sunning themselves
near the surface: fish with a thousand teeth,
fisherman’s nuisance. Like me:
take the bait and sink.

Matt takes us to the woods
and promises a surprise.
We slash brush for miles,
and I bleed. Thorns cut up and down
my skin. So easy to get lost out here –
multiflora rose so thick you can’t see
the sky. Crawl back to where you came from.
Plants move so slow, but I have patience.

Back when I could tell the birds apart
I held a dead wood thrush
in my hand
and it felt like air.
Eyes closed and tilted to the side –
because of the window, because a bird’s eyes
are not adapted to see glass. I wanted to bury it,
but instead I laid it in the grass.
For the worms: because we are all going.

We find the magnolias. No one is quite sure
how they ended up here, but they look exotic,
different from the pawpaws and oaks
with their shiny leaves and white flowers.
To be a bird in the magnolias – hermit thrush,
singing in a language too old to understand.
Voice of god calling out to say: come home.
If only I knew how to listen.
05.01.19
Divinity of the Day lets me think I’m in the sky
But that’s alright, like to go about this blind
Exiled darling wandering in the summer blessedly long
Divinity of the Day, my whispered prayer through the dark

God, that enthralled
you read in a raindrop
before it hits the ground
sunset boulevard torch,
is up one of these bends,
waved in night
West Hollywood Rimbaud,
feathers falling into my hair,
dressed in invention’s favorite mood

with my roadhouse sheet music
written of my life’s inspiration adorned walls, slightly cold
I was lost but playing it off, until
my racing heart reached time future and
said, soul adored believe what’s in store
dose to help you forget and live

Harp in hand, each step how it rings
scammed and scorched
no lying that all this running leads to
hardly breathing
There’s smoke around you
drifting into an image faithful to the vast,
wild west
bravely standing despite the emptiness
as if guided, divinely guided

with my diamond focus on the garden path
of the muse, open, aware
just walking through, even confused, you mean
my images of paradise were drawn in too
permanent as the myths, placards of legends

Beaming with a strange and frightening beauty
from chasing the lights that ascent into the heavens
dreamy, daring, absurdly hoping, all the read claiming
Lord knows, enamored with you, so take these pretty copper arrows
good for aiming up beyond, that remind me, been on my own so long
Sabika H Apr 20
This is no classic scene on a movie screen.
This is real life.
And it’s scenes are the most obscene.

This pain is felt first hand,
And your confusion is severe.
We look to the asphalt and to these mechanic machines and
Believe we live in our ancestors virtual dreams.
You scream:
“It’s 2019!”
And take that as evidence of progress;
Like we are closer to the truth now
Than when our foods weren’t processed.

Progress?
Yes we are better at manipulating physicality
To make clowns of our spirituality
So we can parade our falsity.

You see,

We latch to this planet like a leach.
Manipulating your free speech
As you learn only what is deemed worthy to teach.
And that’s it!
That’s all you need to know!
Go on, throw a fit
And call it “history in the making”
While you hold all knowledge in a glowing rectangle
And still mistake emotions with rationality
Yes we’ve reached this calamity!

Don’t make me laugh!
You hate war?
But you get bored of peace
And you fetishise your guns.
And this is no longer a secret,
Now you post blood and caption it “aesthetic”
And laugh-cry at those who are unfortunate.

Glory is in the body count,
And ****** is just a sport.
Honour is in the gold,
And your biggest fear is to be outed in court.

Truth is
You’re building a fort
Where ignorance is at its foundation.
And while you do not know yourself
You claim to know the nation.
Lilli Sutton Apr 4
Honey on the table
or spilled out –
whatever keeps the fruit flies
coming back.
We went above the river
to see the flood water rising;
it has rained all winter
and now the blue sky feels unnatural.

We used to dream about Washington,
and you’d tell me not to worry
about the gray skies or the rain.
I survived one week in rainforests
and glacial rivers. It has never felt
like enough – maybe we’ll move
to the same town and live on opposite streets.

Lately I have snapped in pieces of the puzzle
but the closer I get to finishing,
the less I want to – there is an answer
in a place too deep to reach.

My whole body has been sick
and I pretend I don’t know the reason –
you said you’d take whatever I would give
so is it wrong of me to give you less –
I don’t know how to quantify the guilt I carry.

Maybe I’ll sell all my belongings,
head west, to a cabin in the forest
and when people look for me
all they’ll hear is the howling of the wind.
02.26.19.
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