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Prettyboyfloyd Nov 2024
At the edge where spirits
In a lead of candle light
Wayward heaven as if
Hurried in a great rush

Foretold had and lived
This age of yester now
Lets call as lets agree
Since isnt there to find

All of when we cherised
Maybe kept other side
Forgotten in memories
then we daydream bout

Lost for well is to wind
Played the left of rights
Of words written the ink
Never so cared to find

Roads of dead ended
Silent at fold ten times
Dull and black within
Overlooked made blind

Cold to have in winter
Land to cover in white
Rocked to the big sleep
By a very similar luluby

Longed in taste asweet
Place known be found
Tomorrow as today been
Then before it is what

Worlds i went travelin
Rest abones sacrificed
Hope my faith believed
And hoped for and how

Soul my chest abeatin
Hands hold their palm
Hour by last minute
Had slowly note afind

So what ends to begin
As the world turns around
Morning birds do sing
The dawn concerns not

May once at last it to be
Man onto own terms life
And definitions maturity
love a reason to grow up

Forget pants we are free
Kiss away the fool of doubt
When sky at hands reach
hand is reachin back down

Get down on your knees
merci sakes truth and just
After life another to live
Beg me please my heart

Shiver and blush for me
Be perfect like little child
Without shame alike guilt
A reason to dear to god

A Flower behind your ear
In hand a bottle of wine
golden grapes godpicked
Dancing you spill around

Pain to overcome suffer it
She yelled wisdom drunk
And for the death to defeat
She said you must die

In the far garden of magic
Above us lookin as only sky
Beyond right for ever since
I hurry in that great rush.
Carlo C Gomez Nov 2024
~
Unusual and cloudless

This slippery world

Today is still contagious

Here is heat, here is rain

Here is love, regardless

Shadows in the scaffolding

Look like a broken alphabet

The sun in its anger

Just won't set

Life and how to do it

Perfectly absent

~
Mark Wanless Nov 2024
create a picture
in your mind that is wisdom
you are halfway there
Zywa Nov 2024
A lot of wisdom,

as the harvest of my life?


Nah, I know better.
Interview by Carolina Lo Galbo with Renate Dorrestein in the tv-program "VPRO Books" (December 17th, 2017)

Collection "Old sore"
SY Oct 2024
I look up;
The mighty ships
Drift slowly hither.
They stop for a while,
Looming over the plains
Attacking the fields,
And the meadows,
And the gardens.
A beautiful attack,
Alleviating despair.
The fresh scent of the Earth
And fragrances from the new blooms
Fill the air;
It is as if this landscape
Just learned of colour.
But the ships anchor not,
For they must bring life and hope elsewhere too,
And they drift slowly thither.
Asher Oct 2024
The older I grow,
Parents, once heroes, now seem
Just like me, they are.
Sorry I haven't been posting much. I've been really busy lately and I've been wanting to join a club or something.
summer to summer
year to year
moment upon moment, I remember you
unveiling the open secrets of your heart
like leaves upon a tree
cascading upon me
in the fall
I read you
your tongue wrote my sorrows
my pains you kissed with pleasures untold
within your realms of beauty
I basked
and I forgot myself
forgot the aches of time and temper
how hot the summers had become
how dry they became with no lover to bear
but you
you were more than lover to me

pure... inspiration

a forbidden flower, nested
'pon yonder peak, in meadow's midst
treacherous though the journey
in my mind, the ease was paltry
for we met on bridges between us
in visions of grandeur
visions beyond vision
where your flesh was as my flesh
for when I caressed myself, I felt you
your hand was my hand
and your words were my night song
and your grace was my quilt
in the terror of being alone
you covered my nakedness
my fear of a life lived alone, dying alone
you wed me with wonders of

what if

and I paced at the doorstep of desire
bouquet of dreams in hand
before me, as though a fencer
but no walls between myself and thine
and though my thorns may *****
and my beauty be that of a man
a woman's touch I'd unsheath in greeting you
to profess knowing you as you
so deliciously
know yourself
to touch you as if you wert my teacher
and tame you as a man tempers his heart,
should he dare
trust a woman with his soul
and yet

these are naught but fancies,
my dear

naught but frightful desires
unkempt
off the shelf of the gorge between us

still

were I more than I am
I would guard these artful mementos
of heartfelt wanting
as a promise to you
despite your
forlorn embrace

and in the moment of meeting
we would speak these words together
because you'd always have known my thoughts
how could you not,
since you are
the woman
of my dreams...
I always a step behind putting anything into action, in this time of my life.
I'm always feeling, or rather, knowing that I am inadequate.

And the only comfort I have of late is to have no quarrel with that fact.
To not fight being less than capable.

As I've experienced, in wanting love, I always and welcomed, but have never been kept. I've always been ill-equipped.

We men can complain about not having enough money, the right haircut and fashion sense, the right "rizz" (it's a dictionary word now, good God, we are poor in spirit!), the right height, the perfect car, the perfect home to host our counterparts, the right cologne, the right timing, the right smile, the right sensitive, but meaning, touch...

And yet, in my estimation, more than not being Mr. Right, I've experienced not being who 'I' want to, and need to, be. I've searched within myself, in the times when I was lucky enough to meet a woman who would share more than conversation with me, that without my own heart being truly open to letting go of all my doubts, my struggles, my stubbornness, and my ever-present temptations for 'more', I believe I would have more than settled by now.

And, of course, I've seen that same heart not only fail in love, but in the grand scheme of life. I've seen myself crushed by the weight of mere existential questions, let alone true, nightmarish challenges in human affairs.

So, this poem was, in essence, a demonstration of how simple desire can be, but how complex the mission to close that gap between desire and true love is.

I've often been ireful with the phrase:
"All is fair in love and war."

Yet, if there's one matter that I can assert is integral to love, as it is to war, it is that one cannot love unprepared. One must be READY to love. Just the same that if one must war, one cannot war unprepared.

I can imagine that the greatest trick an enemy could pull upon a person is to introduce one to one's soul mate either too early, or at the word time in one's life, despite the prepared circumstances and dispositions.

Given the way life can lead us around and away from that which is meant for us, one could spend another decade looking for love before coming across one's soul mate again in, hopefully, fairer climes.

With all that said, I pray you all have what it takes to work for love beyond what I've been capable of.

I see myself as not being all that interested because, despite my wishes, I am behind far too much work in life to afford being interested in by degrees of genuine effort that can even begin to match my interests.

As always,
enjoy!



DEW
The walls of the mind
Are sacred from birth

For it can only hold
Holy words of the heart

No other words
On these walls
Hold true

Yet I have gifted all
A space to write
On these sacred walls

Insanity has become
The outcome
From every pen
Honored a space to write

I still
Naively proclaim to be free
While I fight a war
On the battlefield
Created inside
The most sacred place

An indoctrinated mind
It has now become

Hijacked by dividing pens
Not knowing
These holy walls
Were only created to be

Written upon by the
Pen of the soul

- By NwK
“The Holy Wall” is a piece from the chapter I Speak Truth from my published book RELEASE| Inner Conversations To Lead Us Home. ( Order here - https://lnk.bio/by.nwk )
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