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#rejuvenation
Frigidity wounded the tender palms, numbness nestled in beards, crystals of snow hung from her earrings; all now photographs that have creased. The souls stare into the windows once mistaken for walls, recalling their shadows chained to the stagnant snow, but the seasons are meant to spiral, and amidst the mosses osculated by winters, there bloomed petals adorned by renewal. Some cling tight to the yarn, afraid of pointed crystals shredding the weave, while some recall the cold, garbed in a tender sweater — the tender sweater spun by bleeding hands, pricked by needles and lost amongst the threads. Once one with the pine tree, trembling in a blizzard, they now converse of and with past, clad in fabrics of rejuvenation.
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Sep 13, 2025
Sep 13, 2025 at 11:05 AM UTC
Sweaters Woven Out Of Snow
Shimmering light, gleaning In my eye, million Shades of green Among the trees What is it That I see? When I look at you, Is it a reflection of me? Or an abstraction of you? Is it really you, That I am looking at, Or am I looking at me, Through a part of you?
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Jan 30, 2025
Jan 30, 2025 at 12:27 PM UTC
Limbo Spaces
Somedays my body feels numb Like the world is on my shoulders As I sit in my rundown car Smoking my cigarette Starving myself from the cold That's outside my window I feel a desperate breathe of life Try to flow into my lungs And I realize it's not just me It's my angel with the burning wings She shelters me from the ice Just as she does my life She protects me from myself I slice through the foggy air Just as I do to myself I feel my life running dry I'm cold; I don't feel alive anymore Then it comes, that soft warm touch Trying to revive me one last time And I realize it's not just me It's my angel with the burning wings She shelters me from the ice Just as she does my life She protects me from myself I bleed out into my crimson bath The last drop of blood leaves my veins And as my red sea starts to part I feel an angel touch my heart My soul leaves my body And I become one with her I realize it's not just me It's my angel with the burning wings She sheltered me from the ice And tried to give me life She'll protect me now from hell I look down at my body With new eyes I can see now the life it went through It deserved to die It was never really me I was born to die This is me I am the angel with the burning wings
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Dec 12, 2021
Dec 12, 2021 at 5:46 PM UTC
My Own Worst Enemy
Mary, Mary Quite contrary Egressed from the East Indies A lost child Grief is a long hallway With sketches of pain Adorning the walls Hope is a drawer With a hidden key Bottled-up Mary Lennox Jumps rope Out in the cold Hopscotching And exploring Follows the red robin Enters the garden Long forsaken Befriending life within Evoking life without With the one exception Of herself Mary had a little plan "Might I have a bit of earth?" To plant And to chant To sow And to grow To return a loved one To both father and son To open the secret garden again And feel the inner workings Of her heart begin
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Mar 21, 2020
Mar 21, 2020 at 9:26 PM UTC
Might I Have a Bit of Earth?
Sweet coma canopy, brain bath in solemn loops, a gentle washing away of handprints, Makes the bed, blanketed by dreams, rest upon reimagined partitions, instead of the jagged edge, But there are holes in the architecture, pliable infrastructural tunnels to navigate through, Lucky termite splinters the mind, this delicious library, and feasts upon before all acquired souvenirs settle into books, It's then a young turtledove lifts off toward October next, searching for the dry twigs with which to build closure.
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May 4, 2020
May 4, 2020 at 7:38 AM UTC
Dreams of a Sleeping World
When it feels like my mind is falling apart, do I need rest and rejuvenation meditation and philosophy to consolidate my emotions and thoughts and achieve peace of mind and clarity of thinking so I can be more effective at striving for joy and happiness?
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Jul 24, 2019
Jul 24, 2019 at 8:38 PM UTC
Falling Apart?
When striving for joy and happiness becomes fatigue with stress, do I need rest and rejuvenation?
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Jul 24, 2019
Jul 24, 2019 at 8:36 PM UTC
Rest and Rejuvenation?
Hold your shattered pieces together, Don’t let them go. Don’t leave your mistakes behind; never forget them for they were there for a reason. You must rise after every fall, just like a phoenix. Dust yourself from the sadness and misery you put yourself in, The fiery flames in your eyes should never dim despite the endless salty floods that strike them. The confident smile you form should never relax or vanish. You are strong; you will persist. You are noticed; you shall resist. Leave the ashes of the past behind; learn the lesson and just move on …
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Jan 18, 2019
Jan 18, 2019 at 6:29 AM UTC
*Rise*
Let the soft waves rock you to sleep before they crash Let the foam wrap it's advice around you (it sticks around for a while) claw through the sand when it's said and done when you come to scallop edged waves, you could watch them for hours the salt cleanses, washes wounds clean (it may take a while) Are you there yet? Are you aware yet? Is your reflection as it was before? How does this ripple effect you? Salted air, open the eyes Fill the lungs with newness Let the sun dry you Let the rays hug you in your new beginnings.
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Jun 5, 2018
Jun 5, 2018 at 1:54 AM UTC
Ocean Heart
And the crisp air caressing her face at the start of each new day reminds her of the clean slate she has The fall begins, the rejuvenation, the fresh start.
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Apr 2, 2018
Apr 2, 2018 at 10:45 PM UTC
Autumn 2
archangels banish the devil in the depths of your heaven like a non-violent exorcism the likes of which I haven't witnessed sentimental plague covers our binary consciousnesses until the veil burns off and the ashes feed the land till it softens wiping clean the mourning desiccating grief from the haunting worshipped debris embedded rootless to the thick of the longing to the excised fat of past-time reveries yet the ivory towers still stand bared amidst newborn flowers sparing no sand from the hourglass for an epitaph for only tomorrows carry redemption promising blossoming
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Oct 23, 2017
Oct 23, 2017 at 6:33 PM UTC
Rejuvenate
You can't see the light. The candle in the dark, Is lost to you. No amount of love Can conquer you. I'm lost to you. You lost yourself And claw at my health. I needed to regain a Sense of self. I needed to count The love as true wealth. And disregard all else. Because without Family Love or even yourself, You are left with nothing else. I count my blessings, And with that All else lessens. Through trials and tests This world is wrought With lessons.
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Sep 2, 2017
Sep 2, 2017 at 3:52 PM UTC
Lessons
summer always feels the best and it shares all humans with no explanation. summer holds innumerable quests and they hold within them lessons and learning. summer can’t quite compare to winter with devoid gales holding ransom to the inside of an insulated wok. summer isn’t an escape from rough workloads and energy spent from winning all that bread. summer is a connection with self that permeates all fibers of the self and rejuvenates the soul.
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Jul 9, 2017
Jul 9, 2017 at 4:52 PM UTC
summer
petrichor in spring the verdant tresses waves under blossoms
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Mar 3, 2017
Mar 3, 2017 at 5:48 PM UTC
haiku no. 61
once seen, this hillside--a chill stone, dropped in a hotspring
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Feb 27, 2017
Feb 27, 2017 at 4:19 PM UTC
haiku no. 57
six lanes in a sight line past the cedar shims and trim tempered insert past the washed mural and water stained tiles covered eyes fight for focus over cork strung ties and dark distant bridges foot crawlers on lemon pegs teaming under clouded halogen light   dreamers contend in a variation of chant (throwing it off in a drawl sequence) a glimpse of the guard and warm towel assignment forge comforting relief in a task filled day
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Dec 2, 2016
Dec 2, 2016 at 9:17 PM UTC
Catharsis
Look up and breathe it all in The sky is crying, exploding with a torrential waterfall. Inhale natures’ showering an unblemished symphony The black cloud’s unavowed weight lingers invigoratingly overhead Emotions ebb and flow with the moment’s immanent spirit of light; there is a liberating sensation that excites anticipation of the sky’s impending purposefully fated  release ... Heavens… flood down holy water in a drenching act of baptism a merciful drowning in a river of celestial tears Dowsing rains wash over in a cleansing rain Refresh the dust and ashes the fallow summer leavings What once was a blossoming presence, evolving into a dimming   cold winter reign... Now all that remains is but a shadow of what once was; hearts and bones nearly eroded away by the years of fallen tears To rinse away unrequited love’s stagnant inversion, washing away the invisible bonds that bind to the loathsome heavy ball of an unforgiving chain ... Know the cleansing rain is the spirit of love, washing over a malnourished heart of soul; exposed and bared naked to a remiss world Looking out with thoughtful eyes into the boundless universe Never to stop believing rejuvenating dreams course beyond this long road Imagine the storm clouds parting in the ominous threatening sky as an uplifting awakening light comes shining through; renewing the promise that surrendering to love shall renew purpose and it feels like rain... baby can you feel it (?) December 2012 © harlon rivers ... all rights reserved                  .
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Oct 5, 2016
Oct 5, 2016 at 7:24 PM UTC
Cleansing Rain
Look up and breathe it all in The sky is crying, exploding with a torrential waterfall. Inhale natures’ showering an unblemished symphony The black cloud’s unavowed weight lingers invigoratingly overhead Emotions ebb and flow with the moment’s immanent spirit of light; there is a liberating sensation that excites anticipation of the sky’s impending purposefully fated  release ... Heavens… flood down holy water in a drenching act of baptism a merciful drowning in a river of celestial tears Dowsing rains wash over in a cleansing rain Refresh the dust and ashes the fallow summer leavings What once was a blossoming presence, evolving into a dimming   cold winter reign... Now all that remains is but a shadow of what once was; hearts and bones nearly eroded away by the years of fallen tears To rinse away unrequited love’s stagnant inversion, washing away the invisible bonds that bind to the loathsome heavy ball of an unforgiving chain ... Know the cleansing rain is the spirit of love, washing over a malnourished heart of soul; exposed and bared naked to a remiss world Looking out with thoughtful eyes into the boundless universe Never to stop believing rejuvenating dreams course beyond this long road Imagine the storm clouds parting in the ominous threatening sky as an uplifting awakening light comes shining through; renewing the promise that surrendering to love shall renew purpose and it feels like rain... baby can you feel it (?) December 2012 © harlon rivers ... all rights reserved                  .
Continue reading...
55
Oh ferocious angels, lionesque children of Eden on narrow streets and polluted alleyways whispering cruel things to each other, you're radiant in your belligerence and as my enemies you are virtuous. Beside me in this carpeted rectangle room a faint glow exhales from the tall alpine ivory lamp illuminating firefly wings of blossoms alluringly exuberant in the afternoon sun-ray diamond shine and shimmer. Dusty tin roofs billow firewood smoke in the thick violet shade fog over-top cabin potted mountains and hills sprouting firs and rose bushes abounding. Spectrum cast chandeliers echo staircases which jot up and up arduous ruby landings, hardwood floor cracked and stacks of novels ballast the senescent hallways of bookshops where poets works and journals diaries and memoirs blur the serpentine walls with memories. Angelic the soul which is too often contaminated with avarice rebellious to concord living harmonious midst dew grass and calm waters in residential lakes empathy equanimity, far from Bodhisattva. Few kinds of darkness transcendental subduing other darkness to a weak shadow. There's an importance to admiring the delirium of metropolitan roads on roads this intricate unspoken connection to those who rest by stoplights and crawling traffic metallic molten aura of cars in July heat. Paying attention to the open window of adjacent apartments where Mr. Norris waters his tulips and shares this moment modern meditations practiced finding a balance in such an anxious volatile world like this. Oh ferocious angels, impetuous forlorn seraphs, sing! sing and soar! Boundless is our ardor and our passion. Unenclosed is the lion in it's bloom.
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Apr 1, 2015
Apr 1, 2015 at 3:09 AM UTC
Modern Harmonies
Oh ferocious angels, lionesque children of Eden on narrow streets and polluted alleyways whispering cruel things to each other, you're radiant in your belligerence and as my enemies you are virtuous. Beside me in this carpeted rectangle room a faint glow exhales from the tall alpine ivory lamp illuminating firefly wings of blossoms alluringly exuberant in the afternoon sun-ray diamond shine and shimmer. Dusty tin roofs billow firewood smoke in the thick violet shade fog over-top cabin potted mountains and hills sprouting firs and rose bushes abounding. Spectrum cast chandeliers echo staircases which jot up and up arduous ruby landings, hardwood floor cracked and stacks of novels ballast the senescent hallways of bookshops where poets works and journals diaries and memoirs blur the serpentine walls with memories. Angelic the soul which is too often contaminated with avarice rebellious to concord living harmonious midst dew grass and calm waters in residential lakes empathy equanimity, far from Bodhisattva. Few kinds of darkness transcendental subduing other darkness to a weak shadow. There's an importance to admiring the delirium of metropolitan roads on roads this intricate unspoken connection to those who rest by stoplights and crawling traffic metallic molten aura of cars in July heat. Paying attention to the open window of adjacent apartments where Mr. Norris waters his tulips and shares this moment modern meditations practiced finding a balance in such an anxious volatile world like this. Oh ferocious angels, impetuous forlorn seraphs, sing! sing and soar! Boundless is our ardor and our passion. Unenclosed is the lion in it's bloom.
Continue reading...
43
Vibrant waters Flowing with life Every drop an elixir Deserts of feelings Let’s take a plunge Rejuvenate our soul Drenched with vibrancy Ablution of negativity Taking a deep breath Under the water There’s another world Vibrant waters Shall water the paradise Flowers shall bloom Of hope and gratitude
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Mar 12, 2015
Mar 12, 2015 at 7:18 AM UTC
Vibrant waters
Above and beyond you soar, rejuvenating yourself and others.
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Feb 11, 2015
Feb 11, 2015 at 12:17 PM UTC
Haikuesday February 10, 2015 (late)