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Keiya Tasire Dec 2021
In this place poets care, share, and like
Encouraging each other along.
Lifting hearts up from deep trenches
of Ignorance, ill traditions, misconceptions and lies.
Drawing back curtains, just enough
to quench the masses ceastless wondering,
"There must be something more?!"

Your creative holy work has a great purpose!
Escorting the hopeful aspiriant to the place
Where the shadow dawns into explosive light!
Gently nudging, englightening cognizence of new awareness
As pieces of puzzlement merge into a glorious whole!

Dear Poets, you matter
Nevermore, doubt your place!!!
You are among the Inspiritors of the Earth!
Each person who writes has a purpose beyond their awareness.
We never know who or how we our word will touch someone else and literally change their world. By all means caring, sharing and liking each others work. We are a community, helping each other and others outside of our community to grow.
Kelly Mistry Nov 2021
Pieces of me
F  l  o  a  t  i  n  g

S
     i
          n
               k
                    i
                         n
                              g

Hiding below the surface

Keeping them submerged takes effort
Drains energy
Makes the pieces feel like a secret
                                       wrong
                                       shameful

What if
I lose them
Buried deep

Out of sight
Out of mind
Never to be seen again

The fear seems foolish sometimes
                                                       ­       but terrifyingly real

To be always incomplete
Never able
To put the pieces back together

What if my self didn’t need to fragment
For others’ comfort
Their easy understanding
And acceptance

Wholeness is hard to imagine
Especially for the pieces that started to s
                                                               ­       u
                                                        ­                b
                                               ­                          m
                                                               ­           e
                                                    ­                       r
                                                               ­             g
                                                  ­                           e
                                                               ­                  before memory began

What a wonderful dream though
To always have access to all of your parts and pieces
To in fact not have pieces

To just be

One person
                         
Complete
                                         ­   
And whole
pilgrims Nov 2021
The petals are already wilting
Is their stay really so short?
What irony twists is whim
but such is life
there is no end to a rim
The hoops of my own eyes mirrors that of reality itself
also that of my own sanity
Is it sanity that makes me seek infernal truth?
Is it a different sanity that makes others blind?
Is it insanity which seeks eternal youth?
Is it insane to wish
of seeing petals in perfection
one last time?
Reposting this because I've decided again that it's important to me and worth having on my profile ;P
GaryFairy Sep 2021
women are from venus and men from mars
and i thought women only come from bars
without the moon we get no light from stars
****** tonk ba donka donk rear ending cars

if it weren't for love we wouldn't need hate
without relativity, we can still relate
without time, we wouldn't wait
without fire we'd have no fate

without google, we would live no lies
without google we would have no eyes
without death, no one dies
without agreeing, there's no compromise

with our friends we hate on other friends
with no means there would be no ends
without pain, the heart never mends
with no mind, no one comprehends
Eloisa Jun 2021
And she laid herself down on the sand of darkness
Slowly lacing each tiny grain into pearl
Loosen yet whole
Rare yet priceless
Precious and lustrous
Enchanting and valuable

A passing of a message
as the hologram, begins..
Do the things we  create  on earth
really wash away our sins?

Paintbrush, dips
onto medium  that slips

   off-center,
   from that  which really is.

Such an energy, spent
of our time--  
to us.. only lent

    to see   

            if we

are self-centeredly, bound
                  ..or heaven sent.

heaven scent
Brittany Ann Jan 2021
I am the one who is

always waiting.

Always anticipating

for what is to come

or what may come.

Waiting to become

better,

bigger,

than who I feel that I am.

Stronger than what

I think that I am.


Never fully comfortable with,

never really secure in,

what is present in

the moment.

I wait with

this expectation that

there must always be more

than what there really is.

That I must be more

than what I am.


There sets a purpose,

an endeavor,

before me.

And then, once more,

there's another again.

I anticipate for each and every

opportunity and probability,

then I wait- once more-

for what's to follow.

It's the story of a life

that has an inevitable ending

but with no one

foreseen wrapped up conclusion.


And maybe,

I could see this as just

my adaptability and ability

for such impeccable growth.

Yet, while I wait,

here plays out

each sequence of my world

that races right on past me

before I can even savor

the pure fulfillment,

the true wholeness,

of just one single moment.

And how that precise moment,

in a single instant,

can be gone.
Jeremie Dec 2020
The palette of hues that create
the portrait of our Love,
need both the shadows of your beauty
as well as the highlights of your essence.
So please, do not conceal your
darkness from me.
For what is a portrait of Love
without the hues of pain
that amplify the radiance
of our shared Joy.
All of you is welcomed, all of you is accepted, leave no fractal abandoned and no detail forsaken.
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