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#chi
I can’t sing so I write lyrics to elevate chi Words that make your brain neurons Fire and enlighten your brain, firing like Chung li Kicks that strikes an emotion That flows like the synergy of the ocean Jump in with or without your clothes on Doesn’t matter, god made us naked After the fishes eat, they swim for fun We’re living, lucky, all under the sun After all is said and done we are one So let us past on our positive chi
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Jan 7, 2022
Jan 7, 2022 at 1:17 AM UTC
Chi
A quite audience, easily forgotten The passing of winter rain Stretch and strain, back to my game Oblivious once again Yet your pall remains, A kiss of mist upon the soul A sentinel Of chestnut, oak and magpie’s lair The cross you bare, a gentle snag From times when you were elsewhere A golden wave crashes down Heavens glory reflected, here The soft rustle of recent gift A reminder that we care
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Jan 17, 2021
Jan 17, 2021 at 9:50 AM UTC
My friends of the cold sunlight
chighigher      er            igh        gh chi chi high higher
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Aug 25, 2020
Aug 25, 2020 at 1:04 PM UTC
chighigher -a minimal haiku and more
chi, hidden entity
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Feb 29, 2020
Feb 29, 2020 at 2:53 PM UTC
chiddenity - a minimal haiku
chi high higher
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Aug 7, 2020
Aug 7, 2020 at 10:07 PM UTC
chighigher - a minmal poem or "ku"
chi, hidden energy chiddenergy
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Feb 29, 2020
Feb 29, 2020 at 2:52 PM UTC
chiddenergy - a minimal haiku or "ku"
Stillness and immobility They look just the same But one can be bliss the other is pain The stillness arises when the tension is gone When the tension grows immobility is born The blessing of stillness it flies high and wide The curse of tension pulls the mind closely tied Stillness and immobility They look just the same But one can be bliss the other is pain In the eye of a storm mighty worrier she waits Her opponent exhausted from the forces he breaks From the centre she moves in any direction Her hands tied only by one thing - affection Stillness and immobility They look just the same But one can be bliss the other is pain
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Aug 14, 2018
Aug 14, 2018 at 7:18 AM UTC
Wu Ji - the point of stillness
I feel myself sinking And rising again and again My body and soul in absolute chi I am an energy, all things flow within me I feel the tension in my bones and warmth in my soul I feel at ease There is beauty within me you cannot see There is natural peace and harmony within We don't need no religion, we only need love and compassion
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Apr 6, 2018
Apr 6, 2018 at 3:18 PM UTC
Levitating
....to the solemnity of that place felt just right... a noise-prone, peopled space, .....a corner i, we...go back to, in the cold, or hot of every morning like every meeting, we look above, pay our respect, warm up, then, a time of peace, flows in, when a calming moment starts... breathe... like a baby, inhale, at the start, exhale, when finishing, let go of the rush let go~~~through movements~~~ in waves so slow~~~~~relax~~~ set free your worries, even for a while think of peaceful~~~green mountains~~~ look through a nearby stream~~~soothing~~~ with tiny ripples whirling~~~ clear, like a mirror, showing true reflections~~~while a gentle breeze passes~~~and touches~~~ to unchain~~~to refresh~~~to dry ...to revive.... all purposes...will have been achieved ...........................before the hour ends... then...comes the time to leave, a time, for each one, .......to face another day, ............another sunrise              ........another sunset... Sally Copyright February 6, 2017 Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan ___________________________________
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Feb 5, 2017
Feb 5, 2017 at 9:32 PM UTC
GOING BACK...
ever since i could form a thought- i knew of this phenomenon called god. at least that's the name it was given. but i could never think of god as a person, a figure to look up to and are ultimately afraid of. god was never my best friend, never something i devoted my life to nor someone i gave anything up for. god was the force that willed the plants to grow upwards from the ground. god was the recklessness that pushed me to forget my reasoning and follow my gut. god is how you can make sense of the past, how your heartbeat and inhales and exhales synchronise with the ocean how you know what it means to feel electric. god is what made my wrists stop bleeding at the right moment. it made my father cry when he saw the flaw in his production. god is what refused my angelhood and allowed me to breathe and live. i still had time to grow. so i prayed. i surrendered to the magic of the universe. i gave it my undying loyalty.
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Jan 31, 2016
Jan 31, 2016 at 2:54 PM UTC
chi // crosshatch 3.11.15
Sinewed by the the ancient art of tai chi, he forged the forces of  the universe to lure a dreamer  into his lair. He stayed silent as a spider; and with seamless gliding of  limbs and fingers, he entrapped  his prey like a moth entangled in a cobweb. The sky was bleeding then when she asked:  “How can I walk  through the dusk?” “Just follow me, I’m a pathfinder,” said he. He whispered to her ear:  “Close your eyes my child and trust your heart.”   And to the tremor of  his voice he danced her, deeper and deeper  into the night. Soon   his lips dripped with her muffled sobs, the stench of  his slobber drifted  into her pristine dream; and he confessed:  “She came to me; I’m innocent.”
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Apr 7, 2015
Apr 7, 2015 at 8:22 AM UTC
Innocence
One can turn One's eyes towards Darkness, One can turn One's eyes towards Light, but I've found that it's most healthy setting an eye quite firmly on each with One's mind focused right in between; while living right now before it's too late.
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Jan 26, 2015
Jan 26, 2015 at 5:09 PM UTC
Balance
there is a quick energy here the scooters flow without caution traffic courses like a delta changing, dynamic in every moment a city in the wake of pain constructing, making anew the streets are wet and ***** yet every bush is neatly trimmed
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Jan 20, 2015
Jan 20, 2015 at 8:13 PM UTC
Hồ Chí Minh
Let's speak about love and how much I love. I've watched my pen bleed out slowly for these words I've written that some have read. Only seem to trend when I speak about love. Was told my poems are no good because they don't rhyme. Foolish guy wouldn't understand the essence of each line. Wouldn't understand that nothing is sweet just sour like lime. That my worst poems were the best in my mind. You still believe I can't make a poem rhyme? When you read this guess you'll be surprised. just to make it clear I probably read more books in my childhood than you'll read in you lifetime. Is easy to rhyme. Said I couldn't have a 10 word scheme. So here is one. **** you" times five lines. Said I speak to much about the hood I speak to much about drugs. I don't need for you to understand I'm far away from the sunny side. I live on Broadway never river side. From the city that doesn't sleep to the city that doesn't speak. I can tell you how to take ******* and make it sweet as sugar cane with water and baking soda. Love love love as I tortured my pen. I've watched my pen bleed out slowly for these words I've written that some have read. . Why I speak about the ghetto? Everyone poem that I've read has been about love that is far from the streets I grew up in. Every line coincides with the previous one. Love love love I love my brother who brought me a slice when I didn't have to eat. Now I'm grown no more fasting for me. No trial he just took it 5 years later went from a blackberry to the iPhone 6. Six months in a halfway house now he's free. I do more than speak about the hood and drugs. Don't take it at face value if you don't know how much it cost me and the family. I'm making it college degree and all. I'm glad I don't trend I'm glad some don't understand I can speak about love though all my relationships have fallen and crumbled to the ground like the twin towers. And if that offends you then skip the line and read the next one I can speak about love though all my relationships have fallen and crumbled to the ground like the Berlin Wall on November ninth of eighty nine. Love love love. This is my poetry and history is mine. Love love love.
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Dec 19, 2014
Dec 19, 2014 at 2:52 PM UTC
Love Love Love
Let's speak about love and how much I love. I've watched my pen bleed out slowly for these words I've written that some have read. Only seem to trend when I speak about love. Was told my poems are no good because they don't rhyme. Foolish guy wouldn't understand the essence of each line. Wouldn't understand that nothing is sweet just sour like lime. That my worst poems were the best in my mind. You still believe I can't make a poem rhyme? When you read this guess you'll be surprised. just to make it clear I probably read more books in my childhood than you'll read in you lifetime. Is easy to rhyme. Said I couldn't have a 10 word scheme. So here is one. **** you" times five lines. Said I speak to much about the hood I speak to much about drugs. I don't need for you to understand I'm far away from the sunny side. I live on Broadway never river side. From the city that doesn't sleep to the city that doesn't speak. I can tell you how to take ******* and make it sweet as sugar cane with water and baking soda. Love love love as I tortured my pen. I've watched my pen bleed out slowly for these words I've written that some have read. . Why I speak about the ghetto? Everyone poem that I've read has been about love that is far from the streets I grew up in. Every line coincides with the previous one. Love love love I love my brother who brought me a slice when I didn't have to eat. Now I'm grown no more fasting for me. No trial he just took it 5 years later went from a blackberry to the iPhone 6. Six months in a halfway house now he's free. I do more than speak about the hood and drugs. Don't take it at face value if you don't know how much it cost me and the family. I'm making it college degree and all. I'm glad I don't trend I'm glad some don't understand I can speak about love though all my relationships have fallen and crumbled to the ground like the twin towers. And if that offends you then skip the line and read the next one I can speak about love though all my relationships have fallen and crumbled to the ground like the Berlin Wall on November ninth of eighty nine. Love love love. This is my poetry and history is mine. Love love love.
Continue reading...
21
Large old door Made of wood Locked it was So there I stood Key so far Fell down on my knees Was it in the car Or perhaps in some trees..
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Nov 27, 2014
Nov 27, 2014 at 11:54 PM UTC
Old Wooden Door
It was a dark night in November A baby wailed as it was delivered The mother gasped and breathed no more Began the tale of sorrow for And every night was darkened pain as Hannah would have to be refrained Caught up in her guilt She's thinking about cutting again But comes a rattle upon the pane And in flies the spirit's wind "Who dares cross this portal door Come out I do implore" And Hannah stepped back in fright For it must be an attack tonight But the spectral image of a shady form Left poor Hannah unadorned "Speak most devious one Tell me where it is your coming from" The image coalesced into physical form That on the outside looked so forlorn It parted what looked like lips And uttered the word,"Chi" Hannah was quick to know Everyone has a chi that flows But still Hannah was confused And the question now arose "Of what Chi do you speak And tell me how it works ?" But the only response was a hollow whisper "Chi" , was all it said So Hannah was quick to respond Ran to the refrigerator and opened the door She grabbed a can and quickly returned To the entrance unconcerned With a can of five hour Super Chi She popped the top and poured it down Into the spatial beast It shook at first then burpped at last Wiped it's mouth and passed some gas Then it said , "Chi that was great !"
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Oct 25, 2014
Oct 25, 2014 at 9:42 AM UTC
How Hannah Met Her Chi
To the one who hosts competitions… Which ******* gave you the right? I wouldn’t listen to your rules even if you paid me. Nor would I let you tell me how I would write my poem. I could write something totally not related to your competition and submit it. Maybe I’ll **** your girlfriend and let you read about how it went. She didn’t take your name when she came(just so you know) Who said you could take such liberties? I’m gonna bash your head in with an exhaust pipe And when it dents and gains a sharp edge I’ll scrape your eye with it Just one, because I want you to see… You wanna host competitions, do ya? Meet my little match Ever wondered how a lit match feels in your nostril? If I sparked it and let the gunpowder catch flame in your nose, how wonderful would that feel? Listen here Mr. you asked for this by hosting it… there’s no backing out now… I still have a few things to run you over with. **** umbrella? no splash guard? ugh… too messy… Ah my favorite! the serpent’s tongue. For that I’ll first have to break your jaw, then hold your tongue out Then I’ll stretch your tongue out with clamps and slice it right down the middle Such a fitting exercise. For you. You have become what you really are. I’ll leave your manny parts intact… I know how we are when It comes to those. I will tell you though, you won’t be able to use em ever again… sorry about the irony. Lets get down to business, shall we? I hate you. You know why. I’m gonna inject you with a pain enhancing serum. Then I will administer XXXX XXX It’s an ancient technique of entertaining someone. Dating all the way back to almost 900 AD It was banned, sadly, in the last century. Anyway, you’re lucky I have knowledge of this It won’t spoil our fun… lets start with the obvious places Eye lids, lips, ears, finger tips, toes, arm pits, the ******* the wrists….etc…. You shouldn’t bother keeping count, that’s my job But I highly doubt you’ll even live past number 233.
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Jul 28, 2014
Jul 28, 2014 at 4:57 AM UTC
Killing the competition
To the one who hosts competitions… Which ******* gave you the right? I wouldn’t listen to your rules even if you paid me. Nor would I let you tell me how I would write my poem. I could write something totally not related to your competition and submit it. Maybe I’ll **** your girlfriend and let you read about how it went. She didn’t take your name when she came(just so you know) Who said you could take such liberties? I’m gonna bash your head in with an exhaust pipe And when it dents and gains a sharp edge I’ll scrape your eye with it Just one, because I want you to see… You wanna host competitions, do ya? Meet my little match Ever wondered how a lit match feels in your nostril? If I sparked it and let the gunpowder catch flame in your nose, how wonderful would that feel? Listen here Mr. you asked for this by hosting it… there’s no backing out now… I still have a few things to run you over with. **** umbrella? no splash guard? ugh… too messy… Ah my favorite! the serpent’s tongue. For that I’ll first have to break your jaw, then hold your tongue out Then I’ll stretch your tongue out with clamps and slice it right down the middle Such a fitting exercise. For you. You have become what you really are. I’ll leave your manny parts intact… I know how we are when It comes to those. I will tell you though, you won’t be able to use em ever again… sorry about the irony. Lets get down to business, shall we? I hate you. You know why. I’m gonna inject you with a pain enhancing serum. Then I will administer XXXX XXX It’s an ancient technique of entertaining someone. Dating all the way back to almost 900 AD It was banned, sadly, in the last century. Anyway, you’re lucky I have knowledge of this It won’t spoil our fun… lets start with the obvious places Eye lids, lips, ears, finger tips, toes, arm pits, the ******* the wrists….etc…. You shouldn’t bother keeping count, that’s my job But I highly doubt you’ll even live past number 233.
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36
Chi energy & life Creation which flows abundant Water, crystalline, steam
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Jul 20, 2014
Jul 20, 2014 at 8:07 AM UTC
Qi (Senryu)
Sometimes we live our lives out of fear. Sometimes we are unaware of what is actually real. Sometimes we take things for granted before they disappear.   Sometimes we need to break our glasses to see in the clear. Look around and what do you see? Beauty lies within the nature of every facet you perceive. Take a moment to suddenly pause time; becoming aware of your zen state of mind. When you observe droplets of water falling from the engorging sky, visualize that moment frozen in time. Become mindful of the chemical process elegantly combined; as you experience the moment before it passes by. Clarity will suddenly reach its remarkable peak,   after reliving the vicarious journey of the droplets feat. Sometimes we stop living our lives out of fear. Sometimes in the mist we become aware of what is real. Sometimes we cease taking things for granted after they disappear.   Sometimes we need to fix our glasses to continue seeing clear. By: Michael M. De La Fuente
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May 24, 2014
May 24, 2014 at 5:24 PM UTC
Mindfulness