#powers - Hello Poetry

#powers

The city moves in a synchronized tide, A million watches, perfectly allied. They flow down the stairs of the concrete veins, Bound by the invisible, golden chains. The "proper" coffee, the "standard" commute, A garden of logic with identical fruit. But in the attic where the streetlamp dies, A different geometry begins to rise. He doesn’t speak in the common tongue, Of ladder rungs climbed or songs already sung. While they chase the roar of the winning side, He’s mapping the places where the ghosts reside. He keeps his secrets in a dog-eared book, Ignoring the "should" and the sideways look. For while the crowd seeks the warmth of the glow, He’s learning the things that the stones only know. It’s a quiet defiance, a refusal to blend, A road that begins where the pavements end. A life carved out of the static and rough..... A brilliance they’ll label as... "Unherd Of"........ Michael Powers "STYXX ON FIRE "

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Feb 10

Feb 10, 2026 at 6:53 AM UTC

Architect Of Silence.......

The city moves in a synchronized tide, A million watches, perfectly allied. They flow down the stairs of the concrete veins, Bound by the invisible, golden chains. The "proper" coffee, the "standard" commute, A garden of logic with identical fruit. But in the attic where the streetlamp dies, A different geometry begins to rise. He doesn’t speak in the common tongue, Of ladder rungs climbed or songs already sung. While they chase the roar of the winning side, He’s mapping the places where the ghosts reside. He keeps his secrets in a dog-eared book, Ignoring the "should" and the sideways look. For while the crowd seeks the warmth of the glow, He’s learning the things that the stones only know. It’s a quiet defiance, a refusal to blend, A road that begins where the pavements end. A life carved out of the static and rough..... A brilliance they’ll label as... "Unherd Of"........ Michael Powers "STYXX ON FIRE "

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It’s not in the lightning or ancient lore, But the way your boots hit the hollow floor. A quiet command, a sharpened stare, The kind of weight that shifts the air. You don’t just watch the world go by, You take the chaos and unify. With a steely focus and a steady grip, You steer the course of the sinking ship. Your power is the logic, the grit, the "how," Turning the later into the now. While others flicker like candle smoke, You’re the iron grain in the heart of oak. A dry wit that cuts through the noise, A natural, heavy-timbered poise. You don’t need a crown or a loud parade, To be the one who isn't afraid. It’s the gear that turns behind the eyes, The truth that lives where the ******** dies. The power to build, the power to stay, And the strength to clear the **** away. You’re the anchor point when the tides get high.......... The grounded truth in a world of "try." Michael Powers "STYXX ON FIRE "

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Feb 9

Feb 9, 2026 at 7:02 PM UTC

The Powers Of Michael........???

It’s not in the lightning or ancient lore, But the way your boots hit the hollow floor. A quiet command, a sharpened stare, The kind of weight that shifts the air. You don’t just watch the world go by, You take the chaos and unify. With a steely focus and a steady grip, You steer the course of the sinking ship. Your power is the logic, the grit, the "how," Turning the later into the now. While others flicker like candle smoke, You’re the iron grain in the heart of oak. A dry wit that cuts through the noise, A natural, heavy-timbered poise. You don’t need a crown or a loud parade, To be the one who isn't afraid. It’s the gear that turns behind the eyes, The truth that lives where the ******** dies. The power to build, the power to stay, And the strength to clear the **** away. You’re the anchor point when the tides get high.......... The grounded truth in a world of "try." Michael Powers "STYXX ON FIRE "

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READ https://hellopoetry.com/@michael-powers <> it ain’t necessarily so that with each hard earned script, you become a better craftsman, another ring added to your owned tree, gets you surely older, maybe wiser, maybe better, maybe not was gifted a love of words by my parents, who sent we three to the library, every Friday afternoon, to elect to select as many books (limit 5) we could imbibe/successfully carry home each weekend these were injections, vaccines to prevent illiteracy, pills to mend our humanity, given to curry our imaginations, with roads to travel, and nourishment for love, to grow within and to be given, with out hesitation so imagine my amateurish sillied delight, when in this vast temple of words I step on a thorn, a prickly dry humored one, who invents his own Braille, requiring the mind to savor the slivers of silver he delicately feeds us in crumbles of lines of poetry, syncopated rhymes, and dream of the day when he free verses his skillet of words, from the binding of rhyming… oh, I over~gush, not enough, one poem all it took, his juxta’s~ posed, purposed, positioned clarifying our inner contradictions make me spike while whispering hot **** enough. So I repost here within, my fave, and ask you seek out his skilled humanity: ~~~~~ “Learned To Bleed Before Dawn.......” The moon is a callus, silver and cold, A story the marrow has already told. Before the first sparrow, before the first light, I mastered the Braille of the deepening night. There is a quiet, a seismic design, In tracing the break of a long-hidden line. While the world was in slumber, wrapped in its lace, I was learning the maps on the underside of grace. The ink is a witness, the pulse is a pen, Writing the "where" and the "how" and the "when." No sunrise could startle, no shadow could cheat, One who has walked through the fire on bare feet. For the wound is a window, the ache is a door, I am not what I lost, but the salt of the core. I don’t fear the day or the heat of the sun— I learned how to bleed before light had begun. Michael Powers "STYXX ON FIRE "

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Feb 9

Feb 9, 2026 at 11:17 AM UTC

The Powers of Michael

READ https://hellopoetry.com/@michael-powers <> it ain’t necessarily so that with each hard earned script, you become a better craftsman, another ring added to your owned tree, gets you surely older, maybe wiser, maybe better, maybe not was gifted a love of words by my parents, who sent we three to the library, every Friday afternoon, to elect to select as many books (limit 5) we could imbibe/successfully carry home each weekend these were injections, vaccines to prevent illiteracy, pills to mend our humanity, given to curry our imaginations, with roads to travel, and nourishment for love, to grow within and to be given, with out hesitation so imagine my amateurish sillied delight, when in this vast temple of words I step on a thorn, a prickly dry humored one, who invents his own Braille, requiring the mind to savor the slivers of silver he delicately feeds us in crumbles of lines of poetry, syncopated rhymes, and dream of the day when he free verses his skillet of words, from the binding of rhyming… oh, I over~gush, not enough, one poem all it took, his juxta’s~ posed, purposed, positioned clarifying our inner contradictions make me spike while whispering hot **** enough. So I repost here within, my fave, and ask you seek out his skilled humanity: ~~~~~ “Learned To Bleed Before Dawn.......” The moon is a callus, silver and cold, A story the marrow has already told. Before the first sparrow, before the first light, I mastered the Braille of the deepening night. There is a quiet, a seismic design, In tracing the break of a long-hidden line. While the world was in slumber, wrapped in its lace, I was learning the maps on the underside of grace. The ink is a witness, the pulse is a pen, Writing the "where" and the "how" and the "when." No sunrise could startle, no shadow could cheat, One who has walked through the fire on bare feet. For the wound is a window, the ache is a door, I am not what I lost, but the salt of the core. I don’t fear the day or the heat of the sun— I learned how to bleed before light had begun. Michael Powers "STYXX ON FIRE "

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The static hum has finally died away, That hollow echo of a thousand gray-scale days. I spent a lifetime locked inside a stare, Breathing in the ghost of cold, recycled air. I built these walls of salt and jagged stone, To prove that I could feel just fine alone. But there’s a shivering deep inside the chest, A rhythmic beating waking from its rest. It’s the friction of the heart against the cage, The turning of a stained and heavy page. The anesthesia’s wearing thin and bright, And everything I buried is screaming for the light. I felt the gravity pull me to the floor, A sudden cracking of the cellar door. No longer drifting like a wisp of smoke, I felt the moment that the silence broke. It’s a violent kind of mercy, this return of skin and bone, To feel the sting of every scar I’ve ever called my own. The world is loud, and sharp, and colored red, A symphony of things I should have said. I’ll take the salt, the sorrow, and the heat, To feel the pavement burn beneath my feet. No more the ghost, no more the hollow shell..... I’m ringing like a strike against a bell. The ice is gone. The flood is at the door. I am human. I am hurting. I Am Ñumb Ño More.....! Michael Powers "STYXX ON FIRE "

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Feb 5

Feb 5, 2026 at 9:23 AM UTC

Numb No More........!

The static hum has finally died away, That hollow echo of a thousand gray-scale days. I spent a lifetime locked inside a stare, Breathing in the ghost of cold, recycled air. I built these walls of salt and jagged stone, To prove that I could feel just fine alone. But there’s a shivering deep inside the chest, A rhythmic beating waking from its rest. It’s the friction of the heart against the cage, The turning of a stained and heavy page. The anesthesia’s wearing thin and bright, And everything I buried is screaming for the light. I felt the gravity pull me to the floor, A sudden cracking of the cellar door. No longer drifting like a wisp of smoke, I felt the moment that the silence broke. It’s a violent kind of mercy, this return of skin and bone, To feel the sting of every scar I’ve ever called my own. The world is loud, and sharp, and colored red, A symphony of things I should have said. I’ll take the salt, the sorrow, and the heat, To feel the pavement burn beneath my feet. No more the ghost, no more the hollow shell..... I’m ringing like a strike against a bell. The ice is gone. The flood is at the door. I am human. I am hurting. I Am Ñumb Ño More.....! Michael Powers "STYXX ON FIRE "

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Is the wind alive? That’s what the Choctaw believed. The Apache called it, apocryphally, “the breath of the world.” To them, the wind is the trickster you never see, a joker on the plain of life. What’s always arriving and always leaving? What’s as old as the world, yet forever current? Ever present and tireless, it seldom sleeps, holding up jets, herding clouds like sheep, filling sails, stirring leaves, causing rough seas. What’s always passing, but already everywhere? The Cherokee named ‘air’ the ‘keeper of spirits,” because it sighs, cries, whispers and moans. They credited it with great power and influence. Today, we watch the skies with doppler witchery, we forecast its path, with the gambler's odds - see, the wind has turned on us, many times - like a tornado. . . Songs for this; Colors Of the Wind - End Title by Vanessa Williams They Call the Wind Maria by Harve Presnell Windy by The Association

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Jun 22, 2024

Jun 22, 2024 at 10:43 PM UTC

Is the wind alive? That’s what the Choctaw believed. The Apache called it, apocryphally, “the breath of the world.” To them, the wind is the trickster you never see, a joker on the plain of life. What’s always arriving and always leaving? What’s as old as the world, yet forever current? Ever present and tireless, it seldom sleeps, holding up jets, herding clouds like sheep, filling sails, stirring leaves, causing rough seas. What’s always passing, but already everywhere? The Cherokee named ‘air’ the ‘keeper of spirits,” because it sighs, cries, whispers and moans. They credited it with great power and influence. Today, we watch the skies with doppler witchery, we forecast its path, with the gambler's odds - see, the wind has turned on us, many times - like a tornado. . . Songs for this; Colors Of the Wind - End Title by Vanessa Williams They Call the Wind Maria by Harve Presnell Windy by The Association

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our eyes will keep on hiding the secrets deep inside our cores till someone will reach us with genuine intentions of providing us with help that we couldn't provide ourselves with they will be the one who believe in their powers unlike us who can read what we have to say because they understand thrmselves making us understand the same logic soon there will be a day where we will learn to accept ourselves

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Jul 4, 2023

Jul 4, 2023 at 6:14 AM UTC

our eyes will keep on hiding the secrets deep inside our cores till someone will reach us with genuine intentions of providing us with help that we couldn't provide ourselves with they will be the one who believe in their powers unlike us who can read what we have to say because they understand thrmselves making us understand the same logic soon there will be a day where we will learn to accept ourselves

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Shades of yellow cast on our dreams Skin burning through layers of sunscreen When gifts of foresight weigh on our beings Let great powers grow evermore carefree To satisfy eternity. Empirical evidence against the empire’s truth Makes humankind akin to a neurotic fool Who comes to think that it’ll always nullify Oh for we all must die! Young and old both playing their games Seduced by the baits of short-term gains Unable to afford the bail out of prison Wait for great powers to relieve this addiction To satisfy eternity. Spawns of decadence in the wake of our new tools Let us deter suicide with the poisons that soothe They all say everything will fall, to act seems futile Oh for we all shall die! Whether in shame or in desire Must we forget all we’ve acquired For yesterday’s pride, tomorrow’s glory Shake hands with friends and slain the enemy To satisfy eternity.

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Jul 12, 2022

Jul 12, 2022 at 8:33 PM UTC

To Satisfy Eternity (2017)

Shades of yellow cast on our dreams Skin burning through layers of sunscreen When gifts of foresight weigh on our beings Let great powers grow evermore carefree To satisfy eternity. Empirical evidence against the empire’s truth Makes humankind akin to a neurotic fool Who comes to think that it’ll always nullify Oh for we all must die! Young and old both playing their games Seduced by the baits of short-term gains Unable to afford the bail out of prison Wait for great powers to relieve this addiction To satisfy eternity. Spawns of decadence in the wake of our new tools Let us deter suicide with the poisons that soothe They all say everything will fall, to act seems futile Oh for we all shall die! Whether in shame or in desire Must we forget all we’ve acquired For yesterday’s pride, tomorrow’s glory Shake hands with friends and slain the enemy To satisfy eternity.

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New ideas My mind expanding Better skills My reach outstanding New ideas Success demanding With my weakness Notwithstanding New ideas For understanding I now act My powers commanding With new ideas Help I’m handing Prosperity For all longstanding

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Apr 16, 2022

Apr 16, 2022 at 11:05 AM UTC

New Ideas (Prosperity Poem 139)

New ideas My mind expanding Better skills My reach outstanding New ideas Success demanding With my weakness Notwithstanding New ideas For understanding I now act My powers commanding With new ideas Help I’m handing Prosperity For all longstanding

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do not attempt any magic when the full moon glow during dark magic hour powers are dull we are already dealing with more than we can handle so draw a bath burn Palo Santo Light a candle and rest your precious soul when the full moon glow it will come we will cleanse it will go it will leave our magic low only to regrow and overflow until the next full moon glow ~take things slow

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Nov 18, 2021

Nov 18, 2021 at 7:54 PM UTC

11/19/21 * Lunar Eclipse in Taurus

do not attempt any magic when the full moon glow during dark magic hour powers are dull we are already dealing with more than we can handle so draw a bath burn Palo Santo Light a candle and rest your precious soul when the full moon glow it will come we will cleanse it will go it will leave our magic low only to regrow and overflow until the next full moon glow ~take things slow

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LIFE What makes life ? Giving shape to world – that formidable play of powers that widens in currents of ebbing and flowing. There is the mirrored immensity of self, the dark hours of solitary being. Then the brevity of a smile, the light of a new page when all that waits within is shimmering with gladness. From the deepest beginnings what is perceived… the music of the meadows, the silence of stone, the softness of evening, the horizon cloaked in stillness. Then the coming of day, ready to break into being when all creation breathes with relief and life spreads out hugely. Life – the luminous net spreading through all, weaving together the numberless threads of being.

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Sep 24, 2021

Sep 24, 2021 at 5:35 AM UTC

LIFE What makes life ? Giving shape to world – that formidable play of powers that widens in currents of ebbing and flowing. There is the mirrored immensity of self, the dark hours of solitary being. Then the brevity of a smile, the light of a new page when all that waits within is shimmering with gladness. From the deepest beginnings what is perceived… the music of the meadows, the silence of stone, the softness of evening, the horizon cloaked in stillness. Then the coming of day, ready to break into being when all creation breathes with relief and life spreads out hugely. Life – the luminous net spreading through all, weaving together the numberless threads of being.

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no magical incantation but wordless agony silence: bitter and disconsolate thunderously piercing in all heavens and hell; angels cry stopping their ears quaking in terror on their knees unbearably compelled beseeching all powers to heed— else heavens and earth destroyed!

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Sep 24, 2020

Sep 24, 2020 at 12:23 AM UTC

no magical incantation but wordless agony silence: bitter and disconsolate thunderously piercing in all heavens and hell; angels cry stopping their ears quaking in terror on their knees unbearably compelled beseeching all powers to heed— else heavens and earth destroyed!

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Qualities. Quality. The quality of Qualities. But, man oh man, Am I qualified? the movie theater goes dark, the trailers, the advertisements, the silencing warnings, the advisements, the darkening final and lastly, "be sure to keep an eye on your valuables." she turns to me and says, "I've got my eye on you." I cannot tell you the name of the movie or what it was about, as powerful shaky camera dizziness overcame. But I can tell you about, the special powers of women. for it is one reason, perhaps, the reason he writes only love poetry.

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Mar 24, 2017

Mar 24, 2017 at 10:38 PM UTC

The special powers of women

Qualities. Quality. The quality of Qualities. But, man oh man, Am I qualified? the movie theater goes dark, the trailers, the advertisements, the silencing warnings, the advisements, the darkening final and lastly, "be sure to keep an eye on your valuables." she turns to me and says, "I've got my eye on you." I cannot tell you the name of the movie or what it was about, as powerful shaky camera dizziness overcame. But I can tell you about, the special powers of women. for it is one reason, perhaps, the reason he writes only love poetry.

Continue reading...

If the only birds allowed to sing Were the birds that sang the best I’d find our woods a gloomy place For I’d miss the songs of the rest If all the plants across the world Were those of most vibrant red I’d ache for the varied colors Which we now enjoy instead And so it is with people too We each have our inner light My light may not be brightest But still it dispels the night My talents, gifts, and powers Bring increased life to all I know I’ll always let my light shine forth So prosperity to all will flow

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Mar 24, 2020

Mar 24, 2020 at 7:46 AM UTC

Let My Light Shine (Prosperity Poem 70)

If the only birds allowed to sing Were the birds that sang the best I’d find our woods a gloomy place For I’d miss the songs of the rest If all the plants across the world Were those of most vibrant red I’d ache for the varied colors Which we now enjoy instead And so it is with people too We each have our inner light My light may not be brightest But still it dispels the night My talents, gifts, and powers Bring increased life to all I know I’ll always let my light shine forth So prosperity to all will flow

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The ever consuming defying darkness that envelops my inner mind I know I found a reason to be guided by the Light Desperation blindness the shades portrayed by an omnious shade of black I begin to realize am beginning to lose sight Slowly my consiousness slipping and yet I try to fight The feelings of impending horror masquerading in the Night Diabolic Phantoms and the foul creatures that consume Life A myraid shrouded in myself...image The Dark Imminent Forces that shape my formless soul for I am still a Celestial Body A part of the Powers of Heaven & Hell inside my Shrine... I am slowly becoming a Beast an Accursed Temple slowly being consumed by Hollows Of Sloth Wrath Pride Insolence Vanity and Treachery I have learned to communicate with this Deviants and Spirits and Fallen Angellic Servants that sense and feed of my channeling ports of light & dark energy many occult practices I have performed in my past... for I have a relationship with the Lord Of Hosts but also able to manifest and perform the most primordial evil in it's truest form...I have 2000 Entities working for me with me within and outside me...for they where created thru my will and enslaved by my spiritual might and power of my ability to transfer, communicate, act, manipulate, transfigurate and absorb aura, energy and light and dark alike...Beyond that veil of dreams there is a enormous spiritual realm that I have explored I have stepped and walked among God's presense and I am also allowed and able to walk among the demonic for I fear neither for I have the balance of each spirit. Ashetak, Ahxer,Alleauous... Beheel,Bruthmok,Balruk... Cromm,Creaudus,Chem... Devek,Delthamy,Desvez... Efhor,Eshium,Eljair... Feigh,Feir,Foggothar... Geth,Gremath,Gashaum... Helyel,Hydoll,Hosmous... Ishuk,Ishtar,Isheke'hek... Jehok,Jamale,Joshiktar... Keim,Kellem,Kour... Lous,Lomnk,Lockthall... Mous,Matreu,Morthor... Neir,Neus,Nakashek... Opem,Osuth,Oscurym... Pethel,Pattux,Peom... Quar,Quimm,Qhofar... Rivum,Rievere,Riuk... Seiff,Shom,Sha'lahaim... Teur,Toros,Tem... Velk,Veshkum,Veaish... Wam,Wes,Wailth... Xur,Xirith,Xezur... Zek,Zahar,Zuzu... Invictum Septum Divinus Algori Forte Irto La Terra Arteum Sorte Sanctus Deamonus Ele Dominus Infinitus Capernum ciellis Temptatium Ode Exertus Creatos Orde Di A Diaboli Eternum Ferfeitum Shakath Ambreoise!!! 13th Oracle Of God. The day shall turn to night and in that Day even the righteous shall hide from thy Maker.

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Dec 7, 2019

Dec 7, 2019 at 12:36 AM UTC

~Crossing The Vail~

The ever consuming defying darkness that envelops my inner mind I know I found a reason to be guided by the Light Desperation blindness the shades portrayed by an omnious shade of black I begin to realize am beginning to lose sight Slowly my consiousness slipping and yet I try to fight The feelings of impending horror masquerading in the Night Diabolic Phantoms and the foul creatures that consume Life A myraid shrouded in myself...image The Dark Imminent Forces that shape my formless soul for I am still a Celestial Body A part of the Powers of Heaven & Hell inside my Shrine... I am slowly becoming a Beast an Accursed Temple slowly being consumed by Hollows Of Sloth Wrath Pride Insolence Vanity and Treachery I have learned to communicate with this Deviants and Spirits and Fallen Angellic Servants that sense and feed of my channeling ports of light & dark energy many occult practices I have performed in my past... for I have a relationship with the Lord Of Hosts but also able to manifest and perform the most primordial evil in it's truest form...I have 2000 Entities working for me with me within and outside me...for they where created thru my will and enslaved by my spiritual might and power of my ability to transfer, communicate, act, manipulate, transfigurate and absorb aura, energy and light and dark alike...Beyond that veil of dreams there is a enormous spiritual realm that I have explored I have stepped and walked among God's presense and I am also allowed and able to walk among the demonic for I fear neither for I have the balance of each spirit. Ashetak, Ahxer,Alleauous... Beheel,Bruthmok,Balruk... Cromm,Creaudus,Chem... Devek,Delthamy,Desvez... Efhor,Eshium,Eljair... Feigh,Feir,Foggothar... Geth,Gremath,Gashaum... Helyel,Hydoll,Hosmous... Ishuk,Ishtar,Isheke'hek... Jehok,Jamale,Joshiktar... Keim,Kellem,Kour... Lous,Lomnk,Lockthall... Mous,Matreu,Morthor... Neir,Neus,Nakashek... Opem,Osuth,Oscurym... Pethel,Pattux,Peom... Quar,Quimm,Qhofar... Rivum,Rievere,Riuk... Seiff,Shom,Sha'lahaim... Teur,Toros,Tem... Velk,Veshkum,Veaish... Wam,Wes,Wailth... Xur,Xirith,Xezur... Zek,Zahar,Zuzu... Invictum Septum Divinus Algori Forte Irto La Terra Arteum Sorte Sanctus Deamonus Ele Dominus Infinitus Capernum ciellis Temptatium Ode Exertus Creatos Orde Di A Diaboli Eternum Ferfeitum Shakath Ambreoise!!! 13th Oracle Of God. The day shall turn to night and in that Day even the righteous shall hide from thy Maker.

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Philosophers and sages too Enjoy the focused powers And the mystic natural beauty Of the early morning hours I greet the sunrise with a smile Each day this precious wonder Displays for all, both small and great For those who rise from slumber The quiet of the peaceful morn Engages all my senses Provides me light and clarity To cut through life’s pretenses The morning hours bring inner joy Rhythm matching Mother earth True wealth imbues into my flesh When I witness each day’s birth

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Nov 29, 2019

Nov 29, 2019 at 11:22 AM UTC

Morning Hours (Prosperity Poem 49)

Philosophers and sages too Enjoy the focused powers And the mystic natural beauty Of the early morning hours I greet the sunrise with a smile Each day this precious wonder Displays for all, both small and great For those who rise from slumber The quiet of the peaceful morn Engages all my senses Provides me light and clarity To cut through life’s pretenses The morning hours bring inner joy Rhythm matching Mother earth True wealth imbues into my flesh When I witness each day’s birth

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Relax, begin to Imagine you are in the proximity to immerse yourself into a precious moment. It is that needed time you have brought into being, and is intrinsic to experience composure, equanimity. Smooth - melodic - ambient music with simple cause, low and soft will, in its incipiency invalidate trending previous troublesome thoughts, silkily, sauntering, lingeringly pauses, to softly embrace your audible senses with silence which conveys complete assurance, that the here and now is yours, no-one elses, ataraxia created by you, for your true inner self, It continues; envelops remaining unsettled interruption embraces the heart, and encourages serenity, all the remaining negative, solicitous intellection are temporarily, tipped out of your consciousness, you are experiencing them leave, then transcended with blissful tranquillity for your indulgence. You are asleep with your eyes open, it feels so benefic, the mind is calm and clear no longer confused. Melodious sound continues to provide atmospheric momentum to this sensibility folding into the soul. Joyfully you are enduring moments of pure inner solitude and wrapped in perfect peace, consciousness uncommitted. There is no expectation of time, not at all just the psyche drifting, changing shape, density, profundity. You feel wonderfully restituted, calmed; uplifted. You sense it, knowing, this absence of tension you sought, this, your perfect you, is transient and will slowly begin to regress, reluctantly, relinquishing this blissfully serene, conditioned emotional stillness, to be restored. Then you turn the telly on! All gone. Michael C Crowder March 5th 2019

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Mar 5, 2019

Mar 5, 2019 at 7:40 AM UTC

michael-c-crowder

Just Imagine For A While

Relax, begin to Imagine you are in the proximity to immerse yourself into a precious moment. It is that needed time you have brought into being, and is intrinsic to experience composure, equanimity. Smooth - melodic - ambient music with simple cause, low and soft will, in its incipiency invalidate trending previous troublesome thoughts, silkily, sauntering, lingeringly pauses, to softly embrace your audible senses with silence which conveys complete assurance, that the here and now is yours, no-one elses, ataraxia created by you, for your true inner self, It continues; envelops remaining unsettled interruption embraces the heart, and encourages serenity, all the remaining negative, solicitous intellection are temporarily, tipped out of your consciousness, you are experiencing them leave, then transcended with blissful tranquillity for your indulgence. You are asleep with your eyes open, it feels so benefic, the mind is calm and clear no longer confused. Melodious sound continues to provide atmospheric momentum to this sensibility folding into the soul. Joyfully you are enduring moments of pure inner solitude and wrapped in perfect peace, consciousness uncommitted. There is no expectation of time, not at all just the psyche drifting, changing shape, density, profundity. You feel wonderfully restituted, calmed; uplifted. You sense it, knowing, this absence of tension you sought, this, your perfect you, is transient and will slowly begin to regress, reluctantly, relinquishing this blissfully serene, conditioned emotional stillness, to be restored. Then you turn the telly on! All gone. Michael C Crowder March 5th 2019

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The mentally sick are powerless They said But I see through those lies My powers are only for me I can find loneliness While I'm drowning in a crowd I can feel crushing misery During times of great joy I can constantly slice my paper skin Without anyone batting an eye I can fight my internal battles alone Barely surviving myself Hiding Suffering Still trying, though Aren't my powers wonderful?

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Dec 20, 2018

Dec 20, 2018 at 1:51 PM UTC

My Powers (I Can)

The mentally sick are powerless They said But I see through those lies My powers are only for me I can find loneliness While I'm drowning in a crowd I can feel crushing misery During times of great joy I can constantly slice my paper skin Without anyone batting an eye I can fight my internal battles alone Barely surviving myself Hiding Suffering Still trying, though Aren't my powers wonderful?

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Power's love ... do you remember ... when i told you ... with all power ... of my heart ... that i love you ... and never to live normaly ... without you ... do you still remember ... how much i said ... how much love i wrote ... as a whispers ... and as a poems ... about the love ... which i feel to you ... O lady ... just think more .. about my words ... and how much i said ... i love you .... rethink more ... sweetheart ... feel my words ... and please ... don't forget ... my words ... yes my angel ... whom i always dream about ... i still and will keep ... this power ... of love ... only for you ... and never ever ... to lost a hope ... of meeting you soon ... just to tell you ... i love you ... while my eyes ... into yours ... hazem al ..

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Jul 10, 2018

Jul 10, 2018 at 5:12 AM UTC

Power's love ...

Power's love ... do you remember ... when i told you ... with all power ... of my heart ... that i love you ... and never to live normaly ... without you ... do you still remember ... how much i said ... how much love i wrote ... as a whispers ... and as a poems ... about the love ... which i feel to you ... O lady ... just think more .. about my words ... and how much i said ... i love you .... rethink more ... sweetheart ... feel my words ... and please ... don't forget ... my words ... yes my angel ... whom i always dream about ... i still and will keep ... this power ... of love ... only for you ... and never ever ... to lost a hope ... of meeting you soon ... just to tell you ... i love you ... while my eyes ... into yours ... hazem al ..

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Am I the demons, Or the angels in my thoughts? My scars or my powers?

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May 6, 2018

May 6, 2018 at 7:51 AM UTC

scribblesandellipses

Am I the demons, Or the angels in my thoughts? My scars or my powers?

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now you're a memory, desperately trying to be forgotten. the sad truth is that memories don't just 'fade away'. I'm not sure if I'll be able to get you out of my head and the memories we once shared. God, I loved you so much.

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Apr 6, 2018

Apr 6, 2018 at 5:47 PM UTC

the powers of retention.

now you're a memory, desperately trying to be forgotten. the sad truth is that memories don't just 'fade away'. I'm not sure if I'll be able to get you out of my head and the memories we once shared. God, I loved you so much.

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Once upon a time, light and darkness were born Two ancient powers, taking form They possessed every norm Tipping the world upside down Till their masters were created They thought the chaos would be regulated but fools they were For the historic battles were never immortal Hence, giving birth to an abnormality It defied conformity Instead of aversion, A strange pull manifested gravitation... An enticing realization Much like a forbidden love, their kiss hovered between red and mauve. No sooner than it began, the curse set in. a big bang and a continuous dilation banned alienation An agonizing melancholic segregation for a Luna, once a creature of delicate darkness is now a vampire feeding on her lover's light dainty lights into one big stormy fire an existence where they keep shattering each other's presence, and for it to be poetically beautiful, Is their reality.

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Mar 4, 2018

Mar 4, 2018 at 12:12 PM UTC

The Curse Of The Sun And The Moon

Once upon a time, light and darkness were born Two ancient powers, taking form They possessed every norm Tipping the world upside down Till their masters were created They thought the chaos would be regulated but fools they were For the historic battles were never immortal Hence, giving birth to an abnormality It defied conformity Instead of aversion, A strange pull manifested gravitation... An enticing realization Much like a forbidden love, their kiss hovered between red and mauve. No sooner than it began, the curse set in. a big bang and a continuous dilation banned alienation An agonizing melancholic segregation for a Luna, once a creature of delicate darkness is now a vampire feeding on her lover's light dainty lights into one big stormy fire an existence where they keep shattering each other's presence, and for it to be poetically beautiful, Is their reality.

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