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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.
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
Raven Feels Jul 2021
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, feels=good ----- feelings=no good:(

the balance arises she points
illuminance not the right joint
like the sun overdosed in the sky
clouds disappear in the high
flipped worlds refraction in swords

in an instant speed
nightfall glitches in a scream
kiss the moon in a double tick
the fulls bright convincing a vision trick
save the day
in no way

spinal chords in the dark serenading the blue
but my colors drained from every single hue
the center of the system remains golden
confusion enlightens a feeling so broken
trapped the whole breathing
and my lungs are still bleeding

Daisy Ashcroft Apr 2021
The number of worlds that exist
Just inside my mind
Is enough for someone to insist
That there is a mistake in my design.

They stir and they shake,
Yet nothing can compare
To when you smile for my sake
Or run a hand through your hair.

When I'm with you I feel
As if I'm in the imaginary;
I forget that it's real,
Not crafted by the words in me.

It's only when I think back,
When I am trying to sleep,
That I remember it's not mind crack;
That I might be in too deep.
Daisy Ashcroft Feb 2021
so many worlds
and i can't keep them at bay
now they're starting to get
and my words are only half
of what they want to say
Zolayshia Oct 2020
The world's end
The world's end is near.
That is very clear.
It's like a blackness or darkness ******* me in and I enjoy every piece of it.
It's very comforting.
I see the fire.
The burning flames.
The chaos.
Everything turning to ashes.
It's not pretty.
The grass is dying and now is a black pond of dirt.
The echos of people dying is overwhelming and I sit down and look around.
The orange sky hitting my eyes with a passion.
It's not a good thing.
The roses dying slowly.
The crowd gasping for air.
The world's end is finally here.
And I'm here to witness it.
I did this poem
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