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Martin Narrod Nov 2017
Take my fetus and go
Through and through the mighty seas,
Cleft of stubborn knocks and the bayonets
Rocking through and through the eves. Whose pirouettes and epilepsy crooked, Asunder, blessing the attenuated biology of Say, a field mouse or the hummingbird. What nuisance it transcends itself into. How It has marred even the plight to lock oneself In that windowless box of time. The Atemporal box featuring those curious amaranthine engravings about its sides, upon its top. Though the blood may not spill from side to side, and while the nellypot may collywaddle, there is an immense sincerity akin, fused afore to the intimacy of an authenticated orphic boketto.
Colm Apr 2017
After the newness of this new perspective
Clears like a fog in the mountain pass
What will you want then?
Soon after the end of this or that?

I wonder...

Where will you stand?
And have you since realized the value stored within?
So much so that it might make you want to go back?
Just passing through?
traces of being Jan 2017
Wondering through
the complex mazes
of the wind,
trying to feel beyond
what I cannot see;

trying to see beyond
   what I can feel ―

The echoes of the breeze
invigorate the stillness

The weight
of a world heavy
expands like the traces
of life lived
packed deeply beneath
jagged fingernails

Lost in the wilderness
of my soul,
a feral wind
abides silently
as I wonder alone
from end to end

...  side   to   side
    
through a portal
shapeless as the wind

Blinded by a collective
bioluminescent light
rooted deeply within,
intimately touching
crystalline fountains
as the deepest pools
of innate blackness unfold
in the wake

I reverently touch
the inward rhythm
where a heart strong
     runs alone …

feeling its
pulsing cadence
    quake and thunder
    in reach …

Rivulets thrumming across
the burgeoning blossom
of soothing netherworld seas

Washing away
all the memories made
like the shapeless waves of wind
moving the stillness
beyond


wild is the wind ... 1. 27. 2017
the answer is blowin’ in the wind
.
Peter J Thomas Oct 2016
Nature's transformation,

As the hills

woods,

and glens

are shepherded into

their seasonal

changing rooms,

each coming

out

entirely

unrecognisable.
Peter J Thomas Oct 2016
I don't like

you

this

conversation,

My mind

flits

away

like a disturbed

fruit

fly,

Then I miss

your

comment,

Trouble returns,

Rewind

repeat.
Peter J Thomas Oct 2016
Closed at 10am,

With customers outside,

Opening at 12pm,

By then the interest's died.




*Sometimes I feel as a blogger, like a shopkeeper with no customers. It isn't that I want people to buy anything, but it would be nice to have a few folk wander in and browse for a while. We may not have free WiFi, but we could always just talk to each other.......
evermore eyes so bright
they could pierce starlight,
a twinkling wonderment
     of an infectious smile,
the ultimate sentiment
   'pon a captivated heart
  in a tender child's
    earnest devotion of
       unyielding adoration
Meg Howell Apr 2015
Caught between
asking too many questions
while dreading the answers
or never asking questions
& letting the fear of ignorance take over
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