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Carlo C Gomez May 2022
She cannot feel the full passion of this peak because it is not her passion: It is seen at a distance, as a phenomenon, like the weather, or the plague of grasshoppers that signals the beginning of the end.
Radhika Ghimire Dec 2020
I am sending a parcel on its wings,
Be careful when you open it.
It has full of beautiful things inside,  
108 of waves, you are searching for.
The true colours you love, wrapped up in a blissful layer by layer,  our doorway to knowledge path,
Expounding the absolute power,
As committed and receptive naturally.

The parcel I am sending you, to say how much I miss you.
Holding the heart- " the mystical heart",
Where you always remain, beautifully inside it.

I am sending a parcel on its wings,
Be careful when you open it.
The remaining just flower for you, the way the potters wheel is,
Opens up various levels of perception,  
Everytimes puts out, when it silence, gets hurts.
I am trying to be flower for you to your potential,  external  and largely fortunately internal.

I am sending a parcel  on its wings,   be careful when you open it.
Better to maintain conducive atmosphere
Is called KAVACH, create a cocoon energy inside,
That simply transmit that you wish.

The parcel , it has , things inside,  full of beautiness
That you had initiated into meditativeness,  
generating receptivity , you transmitted into me,
In a short time,
as a doorway to knowledge.

I am sending a parcel on its wings,
Trying to  praise your emotional integrity,
Whatever i send, be careful when you open it.
The beautiful things inside it,  The thought
Quiet powerful transforms spiritual process.
Starting the aware of kundalini with the help of ganapati.

I am sending a parcel on its red wings.
Grounded bases of balance emotional issues.
For reduction of anxiety to energize your powerful spirituality.
With another parts of parcel  on its orange wings.
Which help you to open up for the feeling of
Maintaining harmoneous relationship together.
Because of human beings being empowered with this.

To promote your beautifully things,  self confedence and
To be continued effective manner in which you are travelling miles and miles,
See in this parcel.

I am sending a power with  its yellow wings,
Be careful when you open it.

It has full of beautiful heart , the mystical heart..
On its green wings
Having full of love , kindness,  experiencing compassion which you opened a balance of sympathetic love.
During our conversations.

I am sending a parcel on its blue wings .
When you open it carefully,  you will find positivity,
Singing a song that you most love.
It has also contain a indigo one called 3rd eye
Helps you to visualize inside
And connected the way the path of spiritual heaven.

I am sending a parcel on its violet wings
The crown you will find,
When you open it carefully.
Enjoying with spiritual connections.
Creation of emotion, bonding meditative path.
Melt completely wisdom.
Leaving probably me alone
In the world a path spiritual
Where we will be reunions
Our soul again and again.
Meaningful parcel
Nat Lipstadt Sep 2019
Unabashedly Public (return of the babies; my broken ribs, Zenith poem)

~for Sue Huff~

“unabashedly public,” the accusation,
causes me no blushing consternation
for it’s true, no secret kept worse, than this,
my sleeves, all outside-stained, heartfelt red,
the poems hide so little, with exception of my multifarious,
multivariate, semi-secret identities y’all mostly ferret out

“had no plans to look you up,”
but you kept sending selected of the eldest children,
even from 2012, I remember an afternoon well,
the odors, the food, my friend Al, now passed,
who made me think, indeed,
where do the poems come from?

a bequest to my eldest, who still never calls,
never writes, but will call me for help when
he finds himself in jail, or needs my (car) services;
its been a couple of years, but suspect time
is on my side, life makes needs, those **** happenstances,
that are never happy, but require your lawful presence

and on and on,

men & women, discovered, by their poetry reveled, revealed,
in thigh highs and backhoes, keepers of tortuous promises,
doing the quiet way, always asking, what’s the honorable thing,
all uncovered here, and secret sharers, these poets grab a holt
of my eye ducts, gifting insights that my brain tearfully inquires,
how did they know that bout me, these new kin and kindred?

my broken ribs?

the knowers know i am a summertime creature.
What they do not know, that on the last day
on where I summer shelter, a thin ring, a tree ring,
appears around my chest, marking my annualization,
some rings thick, thin, a year of seasons, all at different paces,
a year of rain & pain, thicker, slower did it pass

What they do not know, these fateful poets, all of my one faith,
these rings deep go, beyond the surface, constricting contractions,
they tighten, squeezing the lungs, slowing the breadth of my breath,
breaking ribs, reminder to write better, now that time is shortening,
labored breathing is a breathtaking experience, do, be better, chances for kindnesses lessened, why hide, time to be unashamedly public

had no plans to write today, especially this one, but circumstances
of my added-on circumferential measurement appearing, triggered by y’all sending me my poems of long ago, played mind-gotcha, this rambling emerged, to celebrate my being nearer to thee, thee, my passing, nearer than thee, this, me old-crust pieces, cutting the mouth’s soft-inside, inside softness, place where weeping & writing
leak on the poem tongue directly

to live in harmony with the
unending quests that yet, always need doing,
all in, are you, am I, awaiting your best attentions,
giving you thy own reparations, given to yourself;
if this then be my own equinox, autumnal equinox,

when the sun is at zenith, directly above,
the equator, this then my reparation, my

                                          Zenith poem**

9/24/19 12:15p
Radhika Ghimire May 2019
From the entire peace can see a power
Brings out a beauty would stock the soul
Highlights the strength with your smiles
sun is spreading lights Seeing your smile
warming the soul to open life enough.
When you have peace from entire enough
Opens the smile for beat of next breath.

When you smile, power me my power smiles
Shows a glimpse into you from entire peace

When your smiles comes from entire
Saves my day, breaks my peace
Nothing is powerful as moon shines
When you smile the stars blink
Unbelievable turns me to your presence
When your smile in your inner express
Speaks me your perfection of peace
Saves my day, tells me to be alive with
Every times smells staring entire
Encourages the sense to beat my breath
shows the beauty of peace in that smile
Wish to lost melting soul within you within this piece

The clicks of your smile makes my night
Gives me the light even in dark night
I can feel the vibrate of your smile
Makes me deeper and deeper and deeper
Closure and closure every time you see
Inspiring to be deep into this smile
Vibrate the heart , paint into spirit
As to make you Murali Madhuri in your smile
Makes me to be a poem watering
The beautiful words to experience perfection from your image
Feels as painter painting your picture In my heart in my soul
When you smile my world regains Its peace and happy I realize why I exist
To remember the happiest of happy.
The peace of entire peace with your beautiful smile.
Radhika Ghimire Jan 2019
a lovely person , caring; and sensitive...
I don't even think , wonderful things,
To your eyes blow warm moist.
The tension almost, draw attention,
Drop of eyes with full of tears,
Conveyed the message,
Telling me you are sensitive..

Waiting a way up and down
Flaming lips inside out
Taking long breath with a hope
Used to say, am i good?
Inspire me easing warmth,
Used to say to my soul onto you
I look deeply into your eyes,
into depths, you were unknown,
Taking you, into a knot.
Wish never loose the notion,
Knowingly unknowingly
You consumed me slowly,
With a breath, telling me,
You are sensitive!!

Never break, a slice made,
I am consumed inside you ,
feeling warmth setting me,
ease the length tightening the knot,
Telling me never break ,
Eyes out, tongue sleeps,
you are sensitive!!!!!
You are sensitive!!!!!
Umi May 2018
Bidding farewell to the warmth,
The bells of a spring path ring, to the sound of the wind,
Which has once again, crossed the stream of time, as it usually does,
The transience of the day, already lost due time, the sun remains as a traveler, whom appears to have crossed the Zenith again,
It's scorching heat is to be felt, exposed to it almost as if it was to be to set the skin ablaze, truly these sunrays, are unforgiving at this time,
Sorrow and misery, are to burn into ash by this heat, a purifying flame of affectionate happiness, embracing those who have found themselves to be in love with the natural, decending, light,
Beyond the boundaries, the mystery of our living power remains unknown, all what is left is a spark in the dark, beyond the sunshine,
The evening welcoming this world is soon to be radiating in joyful light, wandering aimlessly the time for the sunset draws near,
Beyond the Zenith, lies the transience of the passing time.

~ Umi
ZenithSeeker Nov 2017
we will crossroads,
20 year old path again and say
Let's all go bonkers,

dillon leehe Oct 2016
The road darkens quickly;
it turns and sways
and tapers off into an unseeable zenith.
The gravel cracks
and rolls underfoot.

This road peels skin off of knees. This road
rips palms to shreds

but I've traversed it many times;
I can recall each boulder and each
protruding limb.
I nestle between the crags and

I bathe in the starlit puddles. The water is
murky and littered
with bottles, with pens, with Barbie dolls.
It is lukewarm.
I revel in my shivering, pruning skin.

I walked along its path
I closed my eyes but
I listened well.
Unholy silence.

I lifted my foot and triumphed a
broken branch that always exists. I could run
this road blinded and gagged.

I dipped my toe in a puddle. Time
wouldn't let me

Darkness fell beyond my eyelids and chilled
these fragile shrouds.
I leapt over a crag. It has grown
since I've been gone.
I fell into its depths. It isn't a crag at all:
it is the end.

This road has broken off and it
dangles children's toys
off a precipice.
I am still falling. The wind lashes at my eyes
and dries out my tongue.

I am blinded and I am gagged, but
I do not know this road at all.
Nick Moser Feb 2016
How is a boy like me from the “not-so-small-anymore” town of Greenville, South Carolina supposed to become a successful poet?

Well, I’ve got to do the same thing anyone else would do if they want to become something:

First, stop asking questions.
Second, start finding the answers.

Because it’s all about making it in the World.

But remember, if you can make it “here”, you can make it anywhere kid.

And if you can’t make it “here”,
Then join the **** club.
I'm just chasing this dream of mine.
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