#discoveries
Bubbles are forming
As my breath leaves me,
Ripples on the Surface
As I go underneath.
Deep in the Sea
The sand glitters
Pears glistening
Hidden wonders sparkle
Running through my hands.
Deep in the Sea
Blue is no longer blue
Shades of black and purple
Begin to seep through
And confuse my vision.
Deep in the Sea
Calls from creatures
Songs from sirens
Rushing of water
Reverberate inside me.
Deep in the Sea
I lose sense of me
Becoming nothing
Yet still something
As I float aimlessly.
© Sofia Villagrana 2020
Feb 26, 2020
Feb 26, 2020 at 11:09 AM UTC
It was time.
A spectacle was yet to take place
Exploring other worlds were always facinating to me
A footprint we left, every step it took was the sign that life exists.
We were like little trinkets, parts of stars that followed the rover from behind and took our fractions of amazingness of the universe.
It was the universe that broke you.
Sep 3, 2019
Sep 3, 2019 at 2:48 AM UTC
You know when you get the whisper of a melody in your head,
Or just that murmur of a song,or poem that you just have to write,
That gut feeling you get that it could be something amazing,
That's exactly what I feel when am with you,
Euphoria at it's highest peak.
True this could just be a lust phrase
That will hit hard and leave me seeing stars
True our physical chemistry isn't in question
But lacing fingers in the dark,hot breaths on your neck
Your murmur's "I know its to early but I really really more than like you"say more its like a euphoria drug injection to my heart.
You are like this song in my head,I want to hear more of
The whole song,the whole melody
I want to figure out if this is a song with power
Or one that will fade into history without leaving a mark.
All I know is I want more of this.
Jul 13, 2018
Jul 13, 2018 at 8:46 AM UTC
I’ll Never Be A Virtuoso
(Notes from a Piano Playing/Singer/Poet)
I’ll never be a virtuoso.
Sure as I’m an expert on
My name, my palm – I know it.
So I ponder as I listen to
Michel Petrucciani on piano,
Joe Pass on guitar,
Wayne Shorter on the tenor -
Am I any less an artist sans finesse
If runs, uneven, coarse run out into the sand?
Of course not.
Never to become a virtuoso is my lot.
But I’ve a lot that’s going for me:
Tempos, energy,
Out-coming spontaneity,
Ongoing creativity, ingoing spirit,
And an awfully cheerful personality;
Gifts and graces I don’t even know about,
Waiting to come out – or out.
Noel Coward wrote: ‘the talent to amuse’....
Perhaps I use that talent,
And there’s nothing wrong with that.
My notes are high while not the highest,
Vocabulary not extensive,
Not the most imaginative;
IQ slightly more superior than Pooh’s:
Who cares?
(That’s not a question but an exclamation).
Never virtuoso, I shall be the one
Who wears her brain upon her sleeve,
Her heart her slave.
Somewhat below, above so-so,
I know I’ll never be a virtuoso.
I can live with that.
I’ll Never Be A Virtuoso 5.21.2014 Vaguely About Music II; The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative II; Pure Nakedness; Arlene Corwin
Nov 28, 2017
Nov 28, 2017 at 5:02 AM UTC
they say there is no other life
but here inside this body
here within this skull
measured by the goodbyes
of countless nows
but to me there is
yes, outside this box
on the blank sheet
seemingly flat
endlessly deep
in infinite dimensions
Nov 16, 2017
Nov 16, 2017 at 4:56 AM UTC
Take a BITE from this map,
See where it leads you....
Nowhere places...!
From taste, to taste.
Aug 2, 2017
Aug 2, 2017 at 10:47 AM UTC
On days, when time is going too fast,
I can't catch up, and there're things i can't get past,
I'd pull a chair at the verandah....just sit there
To witness, the gentler goings on in life...
See, how...why all plants face towards the sun,
On a dimly lit corner, watch a spider patiently spin its web,
Underneath the gravel and green grass, somehow,
The earthworm, painstakingly, bravely emerges,
Finds its way out of the soil...to remind us,
"...soil is healthy....it's time to plant!"
:::::
I feel, the beetle knows me, as it inches on,
Carrying its own body, crawling down the pine tree,
I won't ever grasp it, nor tie a string on its body
To control its range of movement,
As we do to tethered beasts of burden...
:::::
While sitting there, i decide: by all means,
Towards the flower *** i lean
Take time to smell a rose, feel its rough leaf
Not just a quick touch and sniff
But hold its thorny body, without daring to blink
While deep within, i'd let its fragrance sink
:::::
Some early evenings
When the cicadas' music are echoing
And the moths have started flying
Circling round the light at the ceiling,
I am warned...soon, it will be raining
And.....when it starts to rain, i keep listening
Til i'm soothed by the sound of rain...falling,
From sky to treetops.....flowing...landing
Next to the leaves......cascading down
To the concrete ground
Spreading quickly, far and deep...and as fate,
As nature would have it....the soil, without fail, waits...
:::::
Long time ago, we were small,
Curious and brave, we tasted glory, and all,
Armed with a child's innocence
And an insatiable hunger for learning...
Our eyes, our minds dilated,
Our brains were like sponge...
Like the soil.....we absorbed
All, that we discovered...
:::::
Sally
Copyright December 1, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Dec 13, 2016
Dec 13, 2016 at 3:28 PM UTC
Many beauties God has created
But less that have been worshipped
Nature is beautiful
Yet has its works to be adored
Step out to the blessing of this vision,
But don't step in too deep
For it will take you where you want to be,
But not in the way you want to go
Many a time we'll all like that joyous ride,
But let God take his time
For if we rush our journey,
We may land at our destination in devastation
A flower though it may seem,
The fragrance, the colour, the sensitivity
Thorns though many don't see,
That which protects its own beauty
A mountain with sweet springs
And a snowy cap,
That which is surfaced with ice
To slip away from the glorious feature
The soft, yet sharp touch of air;
A fresh divine flow of its breeze
Swishes through a vast of unknown,
Leaving us to experience the holy discoveries
Nov 6, 2015
Nov 6, 2015 at 1:08 AM UTC
I was a cold person
Never bothering anyone
I took everything solemnly
Not letting anything out of order
Everything had to be perfect
Then you came to my life
Told me to get out of my shell
You had to force me to get out
You showed me new things
And took me to great adventures
You showed me not everything has to be perfect
And sometimes
things should be messy
In a good way.
Jun 4, 2015
Jun 4, 2015 at 9:02 AM UTC