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#pond
You found me churning, Bouncing up and down As I rolled dramatically downhill. You knew what would be better And calmly intervened You took hold with confident hands And bent my trajectory Up into U shaped happiness The highs and lows have softened The swings got smaller The direction now up and forward I want you with me on this gentle arc Our slopes equivalent Our speeds matched Ahead I can see sunny days on lakes crisp mornings in the mountains Autumns on golden ponds. I see popped corks and caps thrown, New suits for social media internships, Wedding toasts and father-daughter dances. We will visit new houses with old friends, Co-ed baby showers with pink predator t-shirts, Bad poems at retirement parties. Years from now, we will argue mildly about who packed the sweaters who brought the corkscrew, who thought the baby should wear that ridiculous t-shirt The lake will sit there pretending it has nothing to do with us.
0
Mar 31, 2022
Mar 31, 2022 at 1:04 PM UTC
A Curved Happiness
Like patterned straws. Like slices of ice cracked loose from the sky of a pond they engage in a dizzy ballet, aquatic conductors. Flurry, milk-tipped. Subtle electricity is this skittish business.
0
Apr 29
Apr 29, 2026 at 7:20 PM UTC
Zygoptera
Shattered glass in a crystal pond Catching the light in its fingertips A flawless rhythm of an eternal being
0
Dec 15, 2025
Dec 15, 2025 at 5:10 PM UTC
Broken
in a solar system far far away there had been discovered metals that no man here in Sol could believe existed at all "oh my! we'll have to release a new category on the periodic table" there they used these metals the way we would not like wood to build a home but guns and structures of war for defense of course for planetary security of course there rose a mighty empire they rose hard and swift carelessly recklessly they ruled with their space metal fist and could garner only rebellion they had the metal they had the power there was a change in tide though those that fought found their own source something to fight back with the metal within them and the mettle without...
0
Nov 18, 2025
Nov 18, 2025 at 3:07 PM UTC
a long time ago
A magical pond where stones breed ripples of pain - ah, my heartless mind.
0
Nov 12, 2025
Nov 12, 2025 at 11:37 PM UTC
Ripples
Closest to us, as we may choose to look back, thinking, as a used weform, finished, finest onced entrance lacking outrance as an all in best bet, let for free fly, be lived left been right used Liberty and Justice, for all, allowed, let free been thunk So near, this year, this harvest moon, I think, here it was last full moon before too cold to sit outside in the quiet and hear, life humm Mankind, mutts for the most part, granted military minds, secured under God, since six, with a military conscience, inside, the serious fluid lethality hate has used, just now, the serotonin reuptake inhibition of the generation, Prozac Nation, Hidden Persuaders, make faith manifest, festival valient mental giants be at rest, believe weaves affecting affections exist, as to we, who've woven webs preventing the very tech we're using from dom minions under ones under others, as a man under authority, say the word, done ask not for whom the thick black veil has settled, for some one close to you, as we can see, from Saturn, with no need to re see we have seeing behaviors adapted augmented eyes with vast distance vision to what became knowable post in-dividuation, becoming one mind combined all we think we may as well use, as words were wont, idle minds were, we read, the, direct object the one devil's… evil live reflective space in object orientation duels, who is god in ichabod crane, who the heeds headless horsemen's wills to draw attention to one of history's least remembered when we come to hologram Hohokam who went away wholesomeness conceptual development plain where visions breathe as words in this mind, sun in a basket as signs we consider sidereal desires least detectible dust, the filter down, as Earth loops, moon tight wobbles all just adjusted to syzygy twosome tugs these re-ad McLuhan sees to this day, we guess what the next idea we think is worth, we bet and say, excuse, us, we were reading re acting our age, sage advice, least said… as if spirits dared approached popped psyche, asking if we shared some sense of scale, whying minds used militarily blown on acid at Khai Vinh resulting in some taking license, self published, privilege, in those day of envisioned sacred undeniability, the vision of a man, aware of private minding reformations, after, all the events that led past the flower clock, to actually see the tiger in the Saigon zoo, as caged as an animal that hunts can ever be… so, we recollect we had different experience, so, we chose to be one breath or one breathing yep, for today… nor so long ago, as a person, attracting life support we may suspect few had, few on my own American heritage branches, had the wherewithal to hold a rent paying property, past the next technical innovation attracting eventual pick and shovel carbide lit miners, to peck away in deep dark mines, and think, of practically nothing but a feeling for a vein, the presses were portable, and people did read, as it happened most miners I knew read the news lead type led us here, led type minds alone lead on, I must confess, I have used drugs, yes, indeed, I do, I may admit to taking tests volunteering to be selected, I happened to become old and carefree, slightly cared for as an aliegiant allowed a glimpse into the nature, of a vow, to believe Natan Hale, and DeMolay, both, died for good reason, they violated the oath, keep silent. Or, they did not, and only actual Googled books attest, who told whom why what was is what may be, let's see… leave us be wHO has key caps and ctrl key privilege, lieves vested lies like dogs, where they lay sleeping best beliefs, last sleep, legendary dedication, why don't we just walk away, lay down, and die? what's that smell? Can't you smell that smell? Yeah, blowing in a south westerly breeze Sick joke old shitburners cough up, nodding ****** in the morning, breech loaded high explosives over Wounded Knew, won the loaders whoa, abrupt shift, Hegseth , War mind, bayonet trained brains, the old way, the told way, repeat it what is the spirit of the bayonet, one never forgets, asking it to fill us on command, you know the drill. and the pain in a wounded knowing of all worth Wounded Knee Medals of Honor are shameful, as was My Khe, and many things done in my name all of them who fired in pursuit as all who could ran away from the cross of Jesus, going on before all the children taught to sing and march each veteran dead day singing a song from Zion, they say, -- did Marley over look the happy beings bashing heads? Glory, glory, h'all eh lu ya'll, his truth, is marching… www hatsoever two or three breathe as maybe fresh air free of us bind together aware, we sacredly agreed, as aggressive progression together con carnal weapons arrayed arms layed riverwise aside against the truth itself, logic serum channels new formed in plowed plains, as seen from the edge realized, having been looking down repositioning something in the air, these age related senses, first installed as a fact a father must recognize, he sees, we sneeze in threes, and sows such seed, remember this he tells himself, in forty years sit right here and explain your sense of factors of ten, powers of magnification, peering far away, or practically feeling past atomic structure, you know to the little alpha limit, beyond ϕπ∞ αt information tension gutfelt is as if we feel we must be yonder if ever is a limit series of instants in prayer, left idle dust less bell jar clearing patience as peaceably easy it is to remember some times, this spirit. Not sometimes, one times in plural, lots of luck. Finished races, ashes as eventual carbon dust, and air, all we rest in as good ideas well taken, used twice and put away, how much longer, and one asked another to invest in holding the fort? Children must die for whose realized right mind cause, mister distant decision maker unaware of effectual fervent prayer bent back early. Find home, from the JWST, look back, we were, some of us alive today, we were far from any hazy river city lights, looking up, look back, and know, the whole while we have our being in, is our once, in a lifetime's worth of the entire universe devoting focus locus energy to some how ensure no two of us share fingerprints.
0
Nov 6, 2025
Nov 6, 2025 at 3:33 PM UTC
And when the moon's at perigree...
Closest to us, as we may choose to look back, thinking, as a used weform, finished, finest onced entrance lacking outrance as an all in best bet, let for free fly, be lived left been right used Liberty and Justice, for all, allowed, let free been thunk So near, this year, this harvest moon, I think, here it was last full moon before too cold to sit outside in the quiet and hear, life humm Mankind, mutts for the most part, granted military minds, secured under God, since six, with a military conscience, inside, the serious fluid lethality hate has used, just now, the serotonin reuptake inhibition of the generation, Prozac Nation, Hidden Persuaders, make faith manifest, festival valient mental giants be at rest, believe weaves affecting affections exist, as to we, who've woven webs preventing the very tech we're using from dom minions under ones under others, as a man under authority, say the word, done ask not for whom the thick black veil has settled, for some one close to you, as we can see, from Saturn, with no need to re see we have seeing behaviors adapted augmented eyes with vast distance vision to what became knowable post in-dividuation, becoming one mind combined all we think we may as well use, as words were wont, idle minds were, we read, the, direct object the one devil's… evil live reflective space in object orientation duels, who is god in ichabod crane, who the heeds headless horsemen's wills to draw attention to one of history's least remembered when we come to hologram Hohokam who went away wholesomeness conceptual development plain where visions breathe as words in this mind, sun in a basket as signs we consider sidereal desires least detectible dust, the filter down, as Earth loops, moon tight wobbles all just adjusted to syzygy twosome tugs these re-ad McLuhan sees to this day, we guess what the next idea we think is worth, we bet and say, excuse, us, we were reading re acting our age, sage advice, least said… as if spirits dared approached popped psyche, asking if we shared some sense of scale, whying minds used militarily blown on acid at Khai Vinh resulting in some taking license, self published, privilege, in those day of envisioned sacred undeniability, the vision of a man, aware of private minding reformations, after, all the events that led past the flower clock, to actually see the tiger in the Saigon zoo, as caged as an animal that hunts can ever be… so, we recollect we had different experience, so, we chose to be one breath or one breathing yep, for today… nor so long ago, as a person, attracting life support we may suspect few had, few on my own American heritage branches, had the wherewithal to hold a rent paying property, past the next technical innovation attracting eventual pick and shovel carbide lit miners, to peck away in deep dark mines, and think, of practically nothing but a feeling for a vein, the presses were portable, and people did read, as it happened most miners I knew read the news lead type led us here, led type minds alone lead on, I must confess, I have used drugs, yes, indeed, I do, I may admit to taking tests volunteering to be selected, I happened to become old and carefree, slightly cared for as an aliegiant allowed a glimpse into the nature, of a vow, to believe Natan Hale, and DeMolay, both, died for good reason, they violated the oath, keep silent. Or, they did not, and only actual Googled books attest, who told whom why what was is what may be, let's see… leave us be wHO has key caps and ctrl key privilege, lieves vested lies like dogs, where they lay sleeping best beliefs, last sleep, legendary dedication, why don't we just walk away, lay down, and die? what's that smell? Can't you smell that smell? Yeah, blowing in a south westerly breeze Sick joke old shitburners cough up, nodding ****** in the morning, breech loaded high explosives over Wounded Knew, won the loaders whoa, abrupt shift, Hegseth , War mind, bayonet trained brains, the old way, the told way, repeat it what is the spirit of the bayonet, one never forgets, asking it to fill us on command, you know the drill. and the pain in a wounded knowing of all worth Wounded Knee Medals of Honor are shameful, as was My Khe, and many things done in my name all of them who fired in pursuit as all who could ran away from the cross of Jesus, going on before all the children taught to sing and march each veteran dead day singing a song from Zion, they say, -- did Marley over look the happy beings bashing heads? Glory, glory, h'all eh lu ya'll, his truth, is marching… www hatsoever two or three breathe as maybe fresh air free of us bind together aware, we sacredly agreed, as aggressive progression together con carnal weapons arrayed arms layed riverwise aside against the truth itself, logic serum channels new formed in plowed plains, as seen from the edge realized, having been looking down repositioning something in the air, these age related senses, first installed as a fact a father must recognize, he sees, we sneeze in threes, and sows such seed, remember this he tells himself, in forty years sit right here and explain your sense of factors of ten, powers of magnification, peering far away, or practically feeling past atomic structure, you know to the little alpha limit, beyond ϕπ∞ αt information tension gutfelt is as if we feel we must be yonder if ever is a limit series of instants in prayer, left idle dust less bell jar clearing patience as peaceably easy it is to remember some times, this spirit. Not sometimes, one times in plural, lots of luck. Finished races, ashes as eventual carbon dust, and air, all we rest in as good ideas well taken, used twice and put away, how much longer, and one asked another to invest in holding the fort? Children must die for whose realized right mind cause, mister distant decision maker unaware of effectual fervent prayer bent back early. Find home, from the JWST, look back, we were, some of us alive today, we were far from any hazy river city lights, looking up, look back, and know, the whole while we have our being in, is our once, in a lifetime's worth of the entire universe devoting focus locus energy to some how ensure no two of us share fingerprints.
Continue reading...
163
Gold tainted lillies and drooling lakes of desire, the weeping willows and endless breeze make for a perfect afternoon
0
Jul 9, 2025
Jul 9, 2025 at 8:08 PM UTC
Bliss
A deer near a pond Drinking water, sees lion Now fears the water
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Jun 13, 2025
Jun 13, 2025 at 8:03 AM UTC
A Deer at a Pond
O heart, soul, core, me: If I do exist, I am exactly pristine in condition Under the surface of a pond Frozen in eternal ice. O want, wish, will, dream: The ice that denies life, Sapping its oppressive strength, Transforming its innocent weakness; Making brittle the bold, Making hard the soft. O form, frame, flesh, face: The palm of my hand Is spread against the bottom of the ice, Reaching up as though to grasp All the nothing I aspire to.
0
Jun 6, 2025
Jun 6, 2025 at 4:07 PM UTC
Unseelie Heart of the Frozen Pond
I live between two worlds, with my pain I weave the bridge. In one I am, in one I wish, in both I drip blood stitch by stitch. If you want to know where I am, look for the intention behind the font, outreach of what we want, the tension in what we don't, when we reach out for the water in the pond. To sip from the stillness's flow, one must stand and one must go. For that's the contract between the living and the soul.
0
May 11, 2025
May 11, 2025 at 6:02 PM UTC
In Between
A whole lot of lies swimming in a pond – _ducking the truth;_ as I threw a rock into the water, and it unfortunately croaked, to the misery of those frogs. I watched as a young lady was kissing to find her Prince charming; and I still don’t know if she ever found him, because she had a frog in her throat. Ah nature, with its crude nature – it laughs in the wind at night, blowing branches as you try to sleep. And when crickets decide to mate, is it the whole world that goes quiet as those insects? And if it’s a game of love they play, I surely hope it isn’t ironically like cricket – making a few runs of the person running on your mind; while giving it all you can to have a ball with them. But they only seem to bat an eyelid. But aren’t you all sometimes hungry for love, like the sea that hungers to conquer more land? Let’s erode these old cliffs, of our own peaks, to be left with the bare essentials. And would you mistake me as someone who falls in love with one’s essentials – saying it with my chest; to bare one’s chest? Maybe my love isn’t as wet, to water down those starved parts of your heart. Darling, I’m just a small pond. _But wasn’t it a pond, where the Princess had found her love?_
0
Apr 1, 2025
Apr 1, 2025 at 4:58 PM UTC
The Princess and the Pond
I saw a white swan in the pond Floating carelessly towards its aim Then I saw myself in the same still water I always pray for the same serenity For the years to come in life But within me There’s a ravaging storm Which cannot be helped Even catharsis fails me sometimes I try to calm myself breathing in and out I speak words of wisdom by putting a hand on my chest But I fail every time and so I end up crying By raining all the poison out of my eyes
0
Nov 29, 2024
Nov 29, 2024 at 1:19 AM UTC
Swan on Still Waters
I stared at the pond for hours Dipping my index and letting it drip A rustle here, a rumour there, Wouldnt stir my pouted lip. In the green I didn’t note you. No bark or howl did you insist. I had defied your mild chirping, Untill I saw you wearing mist. Green frog, looking upwards. Slight, but surely there. Please stay here, pondside with me, In this sigh im glad to share.
0
Nov 20, 2024
Nov 20, 2024 at 3:46 AM UTC
Pollywog
I reside in shallow desires, That have burned to ashes, A mere swine swindler and a mime, Are my traits to define, Exhibiting aimlessness, I watch the stars align, And for God to show me a sign, Like a River sullen in misery, Knowing it will have to fit In a pond, I besiege my reach, And so I preach, My heart to not have it's way, Now as a pond, I reside without a say.
0
Oct 11, 2024
Oct 11, 2024 at 4:16 PM UTC
Pond without a say.
I am a raindrop, born in the clouds. My existence, a fleeting dance between the ethereal and the tangible. I join my siblings, millions of others, in a journey that seems both endless and predestined. We tumble, we spin, we collide, and yet there is a strange sense of harmony to it all. As if we are part of something greater than ourselves, something that transcends the physical world. And then, finally, we reach the edge of the world. The vast, endless expanse that stretches out before us. We plummet, feeling the weight of gravity pulling us down, down, down. The wind rushes past us, tearing at our tiny forms, yet somehow it also carries us forward. It whispers secrets of the world below, of the life that awaits us in the depths. And then, just as suddenly as it began, my journey ends. I strike the surface of the water with a soft splash, disappearing beneath the surface. I am no longer a raindrop, but a part of something else now. I am a leaf in the still waters of a pond. The world around me is a study in contrasts. Above, the sky stretches out in shades of blue, dotted with clouds that occasionally drift past, casting shadows over the water. Below, a carpet of greenery sways gently in the breeze, hinting at a hidden world teeming with life. I drift lazily, carried by the currents, my only concern being to stay afloat and avoid being swept away. Drifting gracefully on the serene surface of a tranquil pond, I exist as a leaf with no defined purpose, no specific path to follow, and no inner musings. Contentedly, I meander aimlessly, embracing the tranquility that envelops these undisturbed waters. As a leaf, I find solace in simply being, surrendering to the gentle currents that guide my journey.
0
Jan 10, 2024
Jan 10, 2024 at 5:12 PM UTC
A raindrop, a leaf and a pond
I am a raindrop, born in the clouds. My existence, a fleeting dance between the ethereal and the tangible. I join my siblings, millions of others, in a journey that seems both endless and predestined. We tumble, we spin, we collide, and yet there is a strange sense of harmony to it all. As if we are part of something greater than ourselves, something that transcends the physical world. And then, finally, we reach the edge of the world. The vast, endless expanse that stretches out before us. We plummet, feeling the weight of gravity pulling us down, down, down. The wind rushes past us, tearing at our tiny forms, yet somehow it also carries us forward. It whispers secrets of the world below, of the life that awaits us in the depths. And then, just as suddenly as it began, my journey ends. I strike the surface of the water with a soft splash, disappearing beneath the surface. I am no longer a raindrop, but a part of something else now. I am a leaf in the still waters of a pond. The world around me is a study in contrasts. Above, the sky stretches out in shades of blue, dotted with clouds that occasionally drift past, casting shadows over the water. Below, a carpet of greenery sways gently in the breeze, hinting at a hidden world teeming with life. I drift lazily, carried by the currents, my only concern being to stay afloat and avoid being swept away. Drifting gracefully on the serene surface of a tranquil pond, I exist as a leaf with no defined purpose, no specific path to follow, and no inner musings. Contentedly, I meander aimlessly, embracing the tranquility that envelops these undisturbed waters. As a leaf, I find solace in simply being, surrendering to the gentle currents that guide my journey.
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5
As I record my thoughts down, new memories resurface. The dusty-green leaves of the lemon tree— swayed gracefully beside the tranquil pond, where the fish wandered in liberty. Moss had begun to propagate around the curves of the pond. Intermittently, koi and guppies- the size of a human pinkie— would leap into the air briefly before plunging back into the water, disrupting its placid surface.
0
Jul 7, 2023
Jul 7, 2023 at 9:07 AM UTC
At Home
There is a pond in the forest lake: beautiful -- black ice around it.
0
Jun 15, 2023
Jun 15, 2023 at 8:45 AM UTC
[ There is a pond in ]
"Like a prayer in church to God you are to me precious love: " "knowing you is loving you thus, Knowing me is loving me." ~~ How sweet lies sound near or far how bitter truth tasted as memories arrived so awkward It's bitterness lessened with understanding true love maturing sweetening and cruel Mr Ttime relentless I'm In silence and in time God allowed me to see where i erred and failed .I ask God to show me to lead me as head not as chopped up tail. God showed me what I couldn't see showed those I injured unintendedly parroting unkind words in ignorance what you want us all to see. Please notice my lonely waves Predictable unchanging. Drop your pebbles in my sand pond that everything in me may be altered in your grace Lord Bless a peace my every loved one. Remove all enemies from our paths. Bring my loved ones back to my caring selfless Godlike realms anchored in your mercy God.. ~~~~ Karijinbba.
0
Aug 19, 2022
Aug 19, 2022 at 7:27 AM UTC
A prayer in church.
JPC- My true love you threw your magnetic pebbles your magical out worldly rocks on my lap you called my small momma your portal to heaven star seed. I called your small Daddy the bridge to heaven and we whispered to each other the titles; Mama and Papa. I guess we lived many lifetimes as man and wife as twin souls interchangeable twin flames before. In almost every book ever written where love is lost or found and in every lifetime we found each other I'm never alone, we remain glued just one thought away. I notice your waves right here on HP they fall on my writ pond and mine fall on yours my beloved. You might just as well call me Delene where both of us meetings in some mystic time travel space ship. In love with your poetic waves revealing secrets; true love always takes chances on Earth and up in some exotic E.T. mother ship. ~~~~~~~~~ Mr and Mrs Andrews with Karijinbba.
0
Aug 10, 2022
Aug 10, 2022 at 7:20 PM UTC
Stone Garden- King of Prussia
baby ducks are enveloped within their mother's shadow, gliding across the pond. but under the surface, the ducks furiously kick to stay above water.
0
Apr 28, 2022
Apr 28, 2022 at 10:32 PM UTC
baby ducks.
melodies flowed through the air but were only heard by the select few willing to decipher do you remember that tune I hummed life times ago across the pond's still waters as we tilted our hats to the sway of the suns waves. you wore a denim, deep blue dyed, - deeper than the stare you first gave me into my glacier blue eyes - hat,                                                                          as i tilted mine to your                                                                 shoulder opening                                                                             a landing pad for my                                                                     petunia welding sun                                                                                 hat. we glared across the bullseye pond meadow   tenacious a moment i could not let go ten ages since that moment and i did not let go do you remember the song i hummed all those lifetimes ago well you hum it every night so,                                                                                          i know you know
0
Feb 12, 2021
Feb 12, 2021 at 9:46 PM UTC
music to hum a day or two to
melodies flowed through the air but were only heard by the select few willing to decipher do you remember that tune I hummed life times ago across the pond's still waters as we tilted our hats to the sway of the suns waves. you wore a denim, deep blue dyed, - deeper than the stare you first gave me into my glacier blue eyes - hat,                                                                          as i tilted mine to your                                                                 shoulder opening                                                                             a landing pad for my                                                                     petunia welding sun                                                                                 hat. we glared across the bullseye pond meadow   tenacious a moment i could not let go ten ages since that moment and i did not let go do you remember the song i hummed all those lifetimes ago well you hum it every night so,                                                                                          i know you know
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15
Open gangly arms are reaching Forward, to a magic gate Red and faded, painted beady dragon eyes. Little water house, you sing to me, Ears floating from my head Towards wispy cotton cattails. I crave a jaunt with ducklings In icy morning air, Even if the pond is softly frozen. Who lives in murky water? And sings early winter songs To a fragile gangly girl Who's prone to listen And respond? Palm-sized apples, bitter cores Losing noons to grape groves. I wished to be a raspberry ferry Floating downstream Forevermore.
0
Jan 15, 2021
Jan 15, 2021 at 2:01 PM UTC
Memory Place