#tai - Hello Poetry

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

AI10010101

My friends of the cold sunlight

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

14

By Arcassin B I could see my dreams and anguishes, seeing them as I go further, your world is ****** in so many languages, that you might be okay with ****** I could see that music is failing to secure you from all the bad, famous people die so much , but just think how did they get like that? Big whoop right ? do you even care? is this fueling you? take out your phone and record someone dying here, do you know the stupid **** that you do? Big whoop right ? do you even care? is this fueling you? take out your phone and record someone dying here, do you know the stupid **** that you do? I manifest and push back, the negative **** that lingers, illuminate and attack, my mind will shine like veneers, take allegiance to myself , you should hear the words I'm saying , is this thing on? I should have guessed it , they rigged it, As long as my mind knows, then my imagination shows, wondering off to the plane, flying off into the sky, I'm too cold like an eskimo, will the evergreen forever grow, i guess nobody knows, My love will show though so Big whoop right ? do you even care? is this fueling you? take out your phone and record someone dying here, do you know the stupid **** that you do? Big whoop right ? do you even care? is this fueling you? take out your phone and record someone dying here, do you know the stupid **** that you do? ©abpoetry2020

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Mar 4, 2020

Mar 4, 2020 at 1:04 PM UTC

arcassin-burnham

"Big WHoop"

By Arcassin B I could see my dreams and anguishes, seeing them as I go further, your world is ****** in so many languages, that you might be okay with ****** I could see that music is failing to secure you from all the bad, famous people die so much , but just think how did they get like that? Big whoop right ? do you even care? is this fueling you? take out your phone and record someone dying here, do you know the stupid **** that you do? Big whoop right ? do you even care? is this fueling you? take out your phone and record someone dying here, do you know the stupid **** that you do? I manifest and push back, the negative **** that lingers, illuminate and attack, my mind will shine like veneers, take allegiance to myself , you should hear the words I'm saying , is this thing on? I should have guessed it , they rigged it, As long as my mind knows, then my imagination shows, wondering off to the plane, flying off into the sky, I'm too cold like an eskimo, will the evergreen forever grow, i guess nobody knows, My love will show though so Big whoop right ? do you even care? is this fueling you? take out your phone and record someone dying here, do you know the stupid **** that you do? Big whoop right ? do you even care? is this fueling you? take out your phone and record someone dying here, do you know the stupid **** that you do? ©abpoetry2020

43

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

Marta

Wu Ji - the point of stillness

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

17

....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

sally-a-bayan

GOING BACK...

....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 ___________________________________

38

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.”

0

Apr 7, 2015

Apr 7, 2015 at 8:22 AM UTC

emmanuel-v-dumlao

Innocence

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.”

18