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As the Phoenix rose from her ashes
And the Dragon silenced his roar
The distant lighting flashes
And he swoons as he watches her soar
For he had seen never something so bright
She burned with a fire that could not be doused
In this the Dragon felt contrite
And all her enemies the Phoenix would roust
She had this way about her, something so soothing and warm
Legend told of her beauty and intensity
And how she could calm every storm
The Dragon enjoyed her propensity
He found her beautiful, alluring and strong
The Dragon was mesmerized by her brilliance
She sang such a beautiful song
She exalted such resilience
The Dragon could not help but sing along
Though the Phoenix may have her battles, she will always win the war
For the Dragon sees the warrior
And her magic quiets his roar
So the Dragon is no longer a worrier
She moves in a way that's enticing
With every move that she makes
The Dragon will never abandon her
No matter how hard the ground quakes
The Phoenix is a one of a kind
An answer to a prayer
There is no greater light that the Dragon could find
Than the beauty of the Phoenix's flare
A Mar 27
I'm like a messy poem
You're the rhyme
I'm the blank pages
You're the words I can't find
I do the bruising
You do the scarring
I'm the pain while you're the damage
Like a thunderstorm
I'm the pouring rain
You're the lightning bolt
If I was the sun rising
You'd be the song of the birds singing
I'm like the drug
You're the addiction
I'm the lungs and you're the oxygen
We're both toxic
We're the same poison
Although, if you ask me
It's actually incredibly quite lovely.
& on & on & on we go
Lauramihaela Oct 2019
I’m not more grateful
For the nurturing warmth of the sun
After a long winter
Than I am for the soothing shade
On a scorching day.
I love the yin and yang-
There is no good and bad
But thinking that makes it so.
Arisa Oct 2019
the night air is cold on my back; naked
white, glistening in moon's light
the glint of her silver combs my hair
caresses the cheek of all who dare gaze beyond
her lustrous face.

dotted by pearl freckles that pale her complexion,
brings beauty to nightfall.

o blissful treasure,
take me in my ascent
to your humble home
of crag and dust.

my celestial shore rests on the lunar frontier;
tucked in the embrace of space.
Another poem about my muse.
Lillian May May 2019
I'm torn (apart)
loving the big blue and green eyes that go on for miles when I look into them and the way you look at me with them in all their different flavors like curiosity and soft fondness and fire-like intensity and the way you smile with your one dimple and the way that smile tastes when you pull me in with your strong arms that I know won't let me go because under your breath you say 'mine' as you squeeze me tighter and the feeling of that breath on my skin as we sink deeper into a state of cloudy hysteria and everything in the world feels perfectly in tune as my head is on your chest and your heartbeat is the pentameter of it all.
im torn between that and
this old feeling of dread that as soon as you slip away from me I won't see you or hear your voice and yet you'll be trapped in my thoughts like a favorite song and no matter how hard I try I can't help but feeling like the tune is off somehow and I've forgotten some words but I can't think of which ones but the worst part is I feel like all this noise in my head won't be mirrored in yours and you won't hear the tune or appreciate the melody.

im torn (apart)
this harmony of yin and yang and you give me a head and I give you a heart and how you say "id be a cold-hearted sonofabitch without you" and when I ask if you're proud of me you say "Its rare that im not proud of you" and when I cry you look into my eyes like a blanket on an oil fire calming me down and reminding me where the ground is and you hold my hand when I'm scared and tell me "fear means youre growing, when its over you'll be glad you did it" and you push me to be bold and when you smile and tell me I slow the world down for you and that you like when I stroke your hair because you feel safe for once and how we even each other out softening rigid edges and sharpening dull blades
im torn between that and
knowing that when the harmony is askew we duel with those swords but not with each other, with our respective selves and I start wishing I wasn't too much and you beat yourself up for thinking you aren't enough and the air fills with a solid stench of resentment and confusion and im grasping frantically for answers and bandages as we both sit on the floor hemorrhaging.

torn (apart).
loving you and knowing there are so many beautiful ways we're good for each other
torn between that and
wondering if that's enough to make up for the ways that we ruin the other.
and then I ask "what is love without ruin?" and "love is enough right?"
but im just
torn apart
Steve Page May 2019
I need a strong yin
to rein me in
to be by my side
kicking my shin
when I need to restrain
my under their skin
to pull me out of my dive
and control my fast spin

it's then that my watson,
my bucky, my tonto
comes into their own
and suppresses my ego
So don't go when I strut
when I trigger disgust
just stand by my yang
and balance me up
Thank you radio 4 for a short about side kicks
Ken Pepiton Mar 2019
My house is built in the path which
the red leopard butterflies are using in their trek
up the east edge of the valley
where I rest,

peaceful and alive, thank you for the thought.

These red leopard butter flies are passing at
a rate of
a couple dozen every sixty
heart beats, steady

rest in peace, old man, one ******* young'n says,
we're givin' them hikers on the PCT
a run.

Yeah, I say, I'll be Odinic. Watthehey eh
I'll keep an eye out as I go
to and fro on the face o'th'earth

Sing the real song, mask off?

Can't. Won't work. Like make ying
neither ying nor yang,
hermes rules:
no comdemnation here.
Simple as pi.
A caught thought, I know not what to make of it.
George Krokos Mar 2019
Embrace tiger, return to mountain
and get refreshment at a fountain.
In solitude and meditation
doubts are cleared by realisation.

The cares of the world are so many
one can't afford to bring back any;
although they help when called to do so
with what for others they have to know.

As yin and yang play their parts so well
those stories of the old one's do tell.
They're never alone in this struggle
and must also know how to juggle.

Advance and retreat each time they go
to share that knowledge of the Tao.
Written early in 2017. Based on my study and thoughts about Taoism.
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