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#zenith
~ She cannot feel the full passion of this peak because it is not her passion: It is seen at a distance, as a phenomenon, like the weather, or the plague of grasshoppers that signals the beginning of the end. ~
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May 9, 2022
May 9, 2022 at 3:22 PM UTC
Snowdonia
I am sending a parcel on its wings, Be careful when you open it. It has full of beautiful things inside, 108 of waves, you are searching for. The true colours you love, wrapped up in a blissful layer by layer, our doorway to knowledge path, Expounding the absolute power, As committed and receptive naturally. The parcel I am sending you, to say how much I miss you. Holding the heart- " the mystical heart", Where you always remain, beautifully inside it. I am sending a parcel on its wings, Be careful when you open it. The remaining just flower for you, the way the potters wheel is, Opens up various levels of perception, Everytimes puts out, when it silence, gets hurts. I am trying to be flower for you to your potential, external and largely fortunately internal. I am sending a parcel on its wings, be careful when you open it. Better to maintain conducive atmosphere Is called KAVACH, create a cocoon energy inside, That simply transmit that you wish. The parcel , it has , things inside, full of beautiness That you had initiated into meditativeness, generating receptivity , you transmitted into me, In a short time, as a doorway to knowledge. I am sending a parcel on its wings, Trying to praise your emotional integrity, Whatever i send, be careful when you open it. The beautiful things inside it, The thought Quiet powerful transforms spiritual process. Starting the aware of kundalini with the help of ganapati. I am sending a parcel on its red wings. Grounded bases of balance emotional issues. For reduction of anxiety to energize your powerful spirituality. With another parts of parcel on its orange wings. Which help you to open up for the feeling of Maintaining harmoneous relationship together. Because of human beings being empowered with this. To promote your beautifully things, self confedence and To be continued effective manner in which you are travelling miles and miles, See in this parcel. I am sending a power with its yellow wings, Be careful when you open it. It has full of beautiful heart , the mystical heart.. On its green wings Having full of love , kindness, experiencing compassion which you opened a balance of sympathetic love. During our conversations. I am sending a parcel on its blue wings . When you open it carefully, you will find positivity, Singing a song that you most love. It has also contain a indigo one called 3rd eye Helps you to visualize inside And connected the way the path of spiritual heaven. I am sending a parcel on its violet wings The crown you will find, When you open it carefully. Enjoying with spiritual connections. Creation of emotion, bonding meditative path. Melt completely wisdom. Leaving probably me alone In the world a path spiritual Where we will be reunions Our soul again and again.
0
Dec 22, 2020
Dec 22, 2020 at 10:53 PM UTC
Parcel of divinity: chakras
I am sending a parcel on its wings, Be careful when you open it. It has full of beautiful things inside, 108 of waves, you are searching for. The true colours you love, wrapped up in a blissful layer by layer, our doorway to knowledge path, Expounding the absolute power, As committed and receptive naturally. The parcel I am sending you, to say how much I miss you. Holding the heart- " the mystical heart", Where you always remain, beautifully inside it. I am sending a parcel on its wings, Be careful when you open it. The remaining just flower for you, the way the potters wheel is, Opens up various levels of perception, Everytimes puts out, when it silence, gets hurts. I am trying to be flower for you to your potential, external and largely fortunately internal. I am sending a parcel on its wings, be careful when you open it. Better to maintain conducive atmosphere Is called KAVACH, create a cocoon energy inside, That simply transmit that you wish. The parcel , it has , things inside, full of beautiness That you had initiated into meditativeness, generating receptivity , you transmitted into me, In a short time, as a doorway to knowledge. I am sending a parcel on its wings, Trying to praise your emotional integrity, Whatever i send, be careful when you open it. The beautiful things inside it, The thought Quiet powerful transforms spiritual process. Starting the aware of kundalini with the help of ganapati. I am sending a parcel on its red wings. Grounded bases of balance emotional issues. For reduction of anxiety to energize your powerful spirituality. With another parts of parcel on its orange wings. Which help you to open up for the feeling of Maintaining harmoneous relationship together. Because of human beings being empowered with this. To promote your beautifully things, self confedence and To be continued effective manner in which you are travelling miles and miles, See in this parcel. I am sending a power with its yellow wings, Be careful when you open it. It has full of beautiful heart , the mystical heart.. On its green wings Having full of love , kindness, experiencing compassion which you opened a balance of sympathetic love. During our conversations. I am sending a parcel on its blue wings . When you open it carefully, you will find positivity, Singing a song that you most love. It has also contain a indigo one called 3rd eye Helps you to visualize inside And connected the way the path of spiritual heaven. I am sending a parcel on its violet wings The crown you will find, When you open it carefully. Enjoying with spiritual connections. Creation of emotion, bonding meditative path. Melt completely wisdom. Leaving probably me alone In the world a path spiritual Where we will be reunions Our soul again and again.
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63
Unabashedly Public (return of the babies; my broken ribs, Zenith poem) ~for Sue Huff~ “unabashedly public,” the accusation, causes me no blushing consternation for it’s true, no secret kept worse, than this, my sleeves, all outside-stained, heartfelt red, the poems hide so little, with exception of my multifarious, multivariate, semi-secret identities y’all mostly ferret out “had no plans to look you up,” but you kept sending selected of the eldest children, even from 2012, I remember an afternoon well, the odors, the food, my friend Al, now passed, who made me think, indeed, where do the poems come from? a bequest to my eldest, who still never calls, never writes, but will call me for help when he finds himself in jail, or needs my (car) services; its been a couple of years, but suspect time is on my side, life makes needs, those **** happenstances, that are never happy, but require your lawful presence and on and on, men & women, discovered, by their poetry reveled, revealed, in thigh highs and backhoes, keepers of tortuous promises, doing the quiet way, always asking, what’s the honorable thing, all uncovered here, and secret sharers, these poets grab a holt of my eye ducts, gifting insights that my brain tearfully inquires, how did they know that bout me, these new kin and kindred? my broken ribs? the knowers know i am a summertime creature. What they do not know, that on the last day on where I summer shelter, a thin ring, a tree ring, appears around my chest, marking my annualization, some rings thick, thin, a year of seasons, all at different paces, a year of rain & pain, thicker, slower did it pass What they do not know, these fateful poets, all of my one faith, these rings deep go, beyond the surface, constricting contractions, they tighten, squeezing the lungs, slowing the breadth of my breath, breaking ribs, reminder to write better, now that time is shortening, labored breathing is a breathtaking experience, do, be better, chances for kindnesses lessened, why hide, time to be unashamedly public had no plans to write today, especially this one, but circumstances of my added-on circumferential measurement appearing, triggered by y’all sending me my poems of long ago, played mind-gotcha, this rambling emerged, to celebrate my being nearer to thee, thee, my passing, nearer than thee, this, me old-crust pieces, cutting the mouth’s soft-inside, inside softness, place where weeping & writing leak on the poem tongue directly to live in harmony with the unending quests that yet, always need doing, all in, are you, am I, awaiting your best attentions, giving you thy own reparations, given to yourself; if this then be my own equinox, autumnal equinox, when the sun is at zenith, directly above, the equator, this then my reparation, my                                           Zenith poem** 9/24/19 12:15p
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Sep 24, 2019
Sep 24, 2019 at 12:38 PM UTC
Unabashedly Public (return of the babies; my broken ribs, Zenith poem)
Unabashedly Public (return of the babies; my broken ribs, Zenith poem) ~for Sue Huff~ “unabashedly public,” the accusation, causes me no blushing consternation for it’s true, no secret kept worse, than this, my sleeves, all outside-stained, heartfelt red, the poems hide so little, with exception of my multifarious, multivariate, semi-secret identities y’all mostly ferret out “had no plans to look you up,” but you kept sending selected of the eldest children, even from 2012, I remember an afternoon well, the odors, the food, my friend Al, now passed, who made me think, indeed, where do the poems come from? a bequest to my eldest, who still never calls, never writes, but will call me for help when he finds himself in jail, or needs my (car) services; its been a couple of years, but suspect time is on my side, life makes needs, those **** happenstances, that are never happy, but require your lawful presence and on and on, men & women, discovered, by their poetry reveled, revealed, in thigh highs and backhoes, keepers of tortuous promises, doing the quiet way, always asking, what’s the honorable thing, all uncovered here, and secret sharers, these poets grab a holt of my eye ducts, gifting insights that my brain tearfully inquires, how did they know that bout me, these new kin and kindred? my broken ribs? the knowers know i am a summertime creature. What they do not know, that on the last day on where I summer shelter, a thin ring, a tree ring, appears around my chest, marking my annualization, some rings thick, thin, a year of seasons, all at different paces, a year of rain & pain, thicker, slower did it pass What they do not know, these fateful poets, all of my one faith, these rings deep go, beyond the surface, constricting contractions, they tighten, squeezing the lungs, slowing the breadth of my breath, breaking ribs, reminder to write better, now that time is shortening, labored breathing is a breathtaking experience, do, be better, chances for kindnesses lessened, why hide, time to be unashamedly public had no plans to write today, especially this one, but circumstances of my added-on circumferential measurement appearing, triggered by y’all sending me my poems of long ago, played mind-gotcha, this rambling emerged, to celebrate my being nearer to thee, thee, my passing, nearer than thee, this, me old-crust pieces, cutting the mouth’s soft-inside, inside softness, place where weeping & writing leak on the poem tongue directly to live in harmony with the unending quests that yet, always need doing, all in, are you, am I, awaiting your best attentions, giving you thy own reparations, given to yourself; if this then be my own equinox, autumnal equinox, when the sun is at zenith, directly above, the equator, this then my reparation, my                                           Zenith poem** 9/24/19 12:15p
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51
From the entire peace can see a power Brings out a beauty would stock the soul Highlights the strength with your smiles sun is spreading lights Seeing your smile warming the soul to open life enough. When you have peace from entire enough Opens the smile for beat of next breath. When you smile, power me my power smiles Shows a glimpse into you from entire peace When your smiles comes from entire Saves my day, breaks my peace Nothing is powerful as moon shines When you smile the stars blink Unbelievable turns me to your presence When your smile in your inner express Speaks me your perfection of peace Saves my day, tells me to be alive with Every times smells staring entire Encourages the sense to beat my breath shows the beauty of peace in that smile Wish to lost melting soul within you within this piece The clicks of your smile makes my night Gives me the light even in dark night I can feel the vibrate of your smile Makes me deeper and deeper and deeper Closure and closure every time you see Inspiring to be deep into this smile Vibrate the heart , paint into spirit As to make you Murali Madhuri in your smile Makes me to be a poem watering The beautiful words to experience perfection from your image Feels as painter painting your picture In my heart in my soul When you smile my world regains Its peace and happy I realize why I exist To remember the happiest of happy. The peace of entire peace with your beautiful smile.
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May 9, 2019
May 9, 2019 at 6:09 AM UTC
Entire peace: Beautiful smile
a lovely person , caring; and sensitive... I don't even think , wonderful things, To your eyes blow warm moist. The tension almost, draw attention, Drop of eyes with full of tears, Conveyed the message, Telling me you are sensitive.. Waiting a way up and down Flaming lips inside out Taking long breath with a hope Used to say, am i good? Inspire me easing warmth, Used to say to my soul onto you I look deeply into your eyes, into depths, you were unknown, Taking you, into a knot. Wish never loose the notion, Knowingly unknowingly You consumed me slowly, With a breath, telling me, You are sensitive!! Never break, a slice made, I am consumed inside you , feeling warmth setting me, ease the length tightening the knot, Telling me never break , Eyes out, tongue sleeps, you are sensitive!!!!! You are sensitive!!!!!
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Jan 23, 2019
Jan 23, 2019 at 6:54 AM UTC
You are sensitive
Bidding farewell to the warmth, The bells of a spring path ring, to the sound of the wind, Which has once again, crossed the stream of time, as it usually does, The transience of the day, already lost due time, the sun remains as a traveler, whom appears to have crossed the Zenith again, It's scorching heat is to be felt, exposed to it almost as if it was to be to set the skin ablaze, truly these sunrays, are unforgiving at this time, Sorrow and misery, are to burn into ash by this heat, a purifying flame of affectionate happiness, embracing those who have found themselves to be in love with the natural, decending, light, Beyond the boundaries, the mystery of our living power remains unknown, all what is left is a spark in the dark, beyond the sunshine, The evening welcoming this world is soon to be radiating in joyful light, wandering aimlessly the time for the sunset draws near, Beyond the Zenith, lies the transience of the passing time. ~ Umi
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May 1, 2018
May 1, 2018 at 9:36 AM UTC
Beyond the Zenith
we will crossroads, 20 year old path again and say Let's all go bonkers, Again ©harpreetk1002
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Nov 29, 2017
Nov 29, 2017 at 11:38 PM UTC
I wish
The road darkens quickly; it turns and sways and tapers off into an unseeable zenith. The gravel cracks and rolls underfoot. This road peels skin off of knees. This road rips palms to shreds but I've traversed it many times; I can recall each boulder and each protruding limb. I nestle between the crags and I bathe in the starlit puddles. The water is murky and littered with bottles, with pens, with Barbie dolls. It is lukewarm. I revel in my shivering, pruning skin. I walked along its path yesterday. I closed my eyes but I listened well. Unholy silence. I lifted my foot and triumphed a broken branch that always exists. I could run this road blinded and gagged. I dipped my toe in a puddle. Time wouldn't let me bathe. Darkness fell beyond my eyelids and chilled these fragile shrouds. I leapt over a crag. It has grown since I've been gone. I fell into its depths. It isn't a crag at all: it is the end. This road has broken off and it dangles children's toys off a precipice. I am still falling. The wind lashes at my eyes and dries out my tongue. I am blinded and I am gagged, but I do not know this road at all.
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Oct 4, 2016
Oct 4, 2016 at 3:11 PM UTC
Malleable Crest
How is a boy like me from the “not-so-small-anymore” town of Greenville, South Carolina supposed to become a successful poet? Well, I’ve got to do the same thing anyone else would do if they want to become something: First, stop asking questions. Second, start finding the answers. Because it’s all about making it in the World. But remember, if you can make it “here”, you can make it anywhere kid. And if you can’t make it “here”, Then join the **** club.
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Feb 22, 2016
Feb 22, 2016 at 10:58 PM UTC
Zenith of Affluence
lost in your eyes, your smile,           your laugh over and over, it all seems to fall apart           but in a blink of an eye it gets           stitched back           over and over it happens just like that riches in actions and gestures           you show every little thing is made more           precious by you zenith, the peak, the best, the bold          but still quite unsure oh how i wish our future together          is as definite as the sun sharing          it's light with the moon
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Jul 9, 2015
Jul 9, 2015 at 12:12 PM UTC
indefinite, unsure
Guilty Am I of Decline pressured by the rain dancing within the fire It's another band aid on a bullet wound, Looking thru the eyes of the gate keeper. Spiraling into the warmth of the beams in this cold world. Revolutionary heat from the sphere of influence nears, billions of years held in place by the crescent of our connection. The last flicker of light, the last inferno Blazing to ignite these hours of darkness. Burning out the zenith into the black hole that is to swallow this Fear and sadness that gives birth to our aggravation, never ever to admit we are afraid.
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Nov 22, 2014
Nov 22, 2014 at 1:46 PM UTC
most people
When my ****** hands reached the top, My palms without lines to read, And my fingertips stripped of identity, My fragile lungs violently exhaled, My honest eyes disappointed me, I had not reached the zenith, For this was merely the end of the beginning.
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Jun 18, 2014
Jun 18, 2014 at 1:29 PM UTC
Torn