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there was an honest man. a good man. a story teller.
he worked in the library, taught children to read, he was a kind man, a great fella.

well "once upon a time" was his motto, his stories always bled into the light.
he went to bed as it got darker, knowing he had done his stories right.

"Nevermorre calls upon you, Storyteller." called the queen of that land.
he had to leave this era, he hoped theyd understand.

as the kind, gentle man left our world, he left a story for the children to be unfurled.
the story of Nevermorre, the friends of the past, the chimer of futures, the words of the last, the darkness of sorrow, the swirling of shame, those who read, did not return quite the same...

so quiet now young ones, im here to tell
the story of Nevermorre, is mine as well.
losely based on a yaelokre song, narnia, and the book the land of stories, i want to create a world of my own and fill it with characters widely known.
showyoulove Dec 2024
We live in a place somewhere between two worlds
One the physical and one the spiritual
They are separate and distinct
But they can coexist, they can be linked
To be practical and active
And still live contemplative
Living with one foot in the sea and the other on dry land
We fight to maintain equilibrium and meet every demand
So how do we reconcile one with the other?
Is it even possible to do so?
Maybe we don't have to, maybe it's already been done
For a baby born of a ******: God's own precious son
Jesus was of two worlds, and he bridged that divide
Became bread and wine so he could live inside
Let all you do be a prayer, and all your work give him glory
All you say be with love, and all your life lived with joy
This is how we can live in two worlds
Maria Etre Oct 2024
Of all the worlds
I create,
none of them
miss you
miss you
1st "miss you" - the feeling of missing.
2nd "miss you" - none of them skip you.
Daniel Tucker Aug 2024
Expression is something
           We all must do
It brings worlds
Together

We do it in
                Many ways
It brings rain
                   Or good
                          Weather

But holding it in has
                It's good points
It keeps you from being
Labeled

And from being
             Part of the cause
Of balancing what is
Unequal

See me holding
                    Out my hand
My mouth is opened
Wide

There is no use in
                Playing it cool
When you have nothing
To hide

The joker laughs
                 At silent states
Hearts emptied by its
Lull

So
                Open up
                  Laugh
              In his face
Make
              Empty places
Full

  Give me
                   A smile
  Give me
                   A frown
Do it with
Guitar or
                  Paint

Show it with
   Speech
       As a mute clown
           As a rebel or as a
                  Saint !!!
Copyright©2024 Daniel Tucker

Balance what is unbalanced.
Express yourself. Relate. Open up. Make peace. Fight the good fight. Use your gifts and talents. Never stop following your convictions.
Mark Wanless Jun 2024
i lived all the worlds
that have been present in mind
understood not one
Peter Balkus Mar 2024
We clearly see the illusion of material things.
We simply choose to ignore it,
hoping for getting approval from above.

It doesn't matter how high we think of ourselves,
how high we hold our heads.
At the end of the day,
we are equally invisible to the night.
Billie Marie Jan 2022
I forgot who I was along the thread of lives that hold me here.
Now, I can begin to remember.
Now, I can call all the lost pieces back home.
They fly back, as if waiting – held in suspended animation –
until the right prayer is chanted, the right spell cast.
We call to each other, all the scattered fragments of this soul.
Even the ones that seemed to betray us.
We welcome them all again
with warm heart and wide, open arms.
The child shaman, the nurse,
the chamber maid, the *******,
the revolutionary, the teacher,
the old witch, the mother:
We see each other one
as the one we are also.
We are coming into oneness with what we are.
We are here. Finally, we are here.
12.4.2021
Isaac Sep 2021
I'm grateful for my avatar
Functioning well, the odd scar
Often bored of my own skin
I visit worlds waiting within
Physical demands eventually disrupt
Noisy distractions persist, interrupt
When night falls they tend to refrain
Hours may pass, I still remain
Inside transcendental places
Meeting new n' familiar faces
My senses heightened
Existence enlivened
An economical holiday
Safe and far away
From all life's worries
And its incessant flurries
Experiencing new chapters
That my brain captures
Just like "actual" memories
Stored in my treasuries
I'm starting to realise
That each sunrise
Lights a world that I can
Explore as a man
Just as I do with glee
In Dreamland so free
The difference being
I'm no longer dreaming
Choices endure
So I like to ensure
My future gains
By this choice which remains
What choice do I mean?
The ever moving scene
The Present as they call it
You get to draw it
Your body the pencil
With so much potential
Constantly writing
Is the story exciting?
It's hard to know
But I'm keen to touch snow
Which I've done in Dreamland.
Just not in Queensland.
Nor any physical place.
I want to go to space.
Written 25 September 2021
nick armbrister Sep 2021
Little Globe
Grow me a planet
I want a moon
Followed by a Saturn
Real ones but small
To fit inside my pocket
Got my own worlds
In my palm
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