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"broaden" poems
Volunteers, PSGs, Staffs Executive Directors And higher task allocators. People pass by Mic's were off Facade was the banner of hope. Voices all over the provinces All with the same goal Rightly urged with own reasons. Two faces were present Painted with grimace Or with broaden smiles. *The screening was stern and severe Camera rolls on with Level 2 "Next," "Give me another song" The voice sounds no roughs of plead A voice pushing rivals To their very own frontiers I was startled So this is how they do it Selection, great screenings There're expectators There're hope hurtles Dreams will sooner be pulled of.
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Jul 5, 2014
Jul 5, 2014 at 11:52 PM UTC
The Voice Audition
Generations of people perceiving things In different levels The understanding in different horizons The horizon to the shore To the infinity The earth brings out everything new Adaptability is the key Acceptance is the key New perceiving New beings New thoughts New love New cravings New addiction New generation New adaptability New addiction New mistakes New evolution New matches New mismatches New sun New moon New stars New wrongs And the new rights The flow continues beyond understanding And let it be Understanding does not matter In the whole change is inhabitable Change is real Also the experience Perceive the change in the outer world Bring out the change in the inner world Have a common path in between Let it be Perceive change around Is the only thing important The understanding is void Don't ever complain about what you cant understand And you cannot in many cases No worries Accept it It is real It is true Perceive Feel And let go In a deeper sense of course Dip into the thought Illuminate Feel the new sun New moon A new day Come fresh and tidy Accept the change in real From without and within Keep your arms wide open Broaden your arms Chant the prayers to the universe Surrender to the universe Universe knows it all Trust You are the part of the whole The whole is the universe Created by the universe Above and beyond To the eternity You are the universe You are the change You are the perceptions You are the feel You are the agenda You are the thoughts You are the eternal soul And everybody around are And every things around are Take a deep breadth and Function as you should Function as you are Function as a change within Function as the change without Function as the change around Different generations Differences as seen Perceiving The around and within As a rule or the knowns By themselves upon themselves The new one Having a change Of terms Of rules And of surroundings Different from the generations gone The new ones for sure Has a new things to do Has a new idea A new rule New love New connections New mistakes New rights And the new wrongs The change is there Perceiving and generations Different in emotions Different in righteousness Different in fulfillment Different in atrocities Different in perceptions Different in locality Different in the differences And similar in a way They are different Only thing common Is the change Have you the perception To get into the change Around, within and without The change is happening It is present It is the thing to feel To perceive Try to understand, the less you get it Feel the change Percepts of change Accept the change you must Teach change if you can Be a change if you ought to For the new ones For the old ones And for the no ones Take a deep breadth Feel the cool breeze of change Breathe the change Live the change Teach the change Be the change See differences seem to be similarities Notion of diversities Notion of change Notion of no differences Notion of similarities People and generations Perceiving things At different levels Inhabitable is the change Perceiving change Is the key In general To say the least Chants Abundance Belongingness Grace Love Alive
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Jan 14, 2019
Jan 14, 2019 at 10:45 PM UTC
Perceptions and Generations
Generations of people perceiving things In different levels The understanding in different horizons The horizon to the shore To the infinity The earth brings out everything new Adaptability is the key Acceptance is the key New perceiving New beings New thoughts New love New cravings New addiction New generation New adaptability New addiction New mistakes New evolution New matches New mismatches New sun New moon New stars New wrongs And the new rights The flow continues beyond understanding And let it be Understanding does not matter In the whole change is inhabitable Change is real Also the experience Perceive the change in the outer world Bring out the change in the inner world Have a common path in between Let it be Perceive change around Is the only thing important The understanding is void Don't ever complain about what you cant understand And you cannot in many cases No worries Accept it It is real It is true Perceive Feel And let go In a deeper sense of course Dip into the thought Illuminate Feel the new sun New moon A new day Come fresh and tidy Accept the change in real From without and within Keep your arms wide open Broaden your arms Chant the prayers to the universe Surrender to the universe Universe knows it all Trust You are the part of the whole The whole is the universe Created by the universe Above and beyond To the eternity You are the universe You are the change You are the perceptions You are the feel You are the agenda You are the thoughts You are the eternal soul And everybody around are And every things around are Take a deep breadth and Function as you should Function as you are Function as a change within Function as the change without Function as the change around Different generations Differences as seen Perceiving The around and within As a rule or the knowns By themselves upon themselves The new one Having a change Of terms Of rules And of surroundings Different from the generations gone The new ones for sure Has a new things to do Has a new idea A new rule New love New connections New mistakes New rights And the new wrongs The change is there Perceiving and generations Different in emotions Different in righteousness Different in fulfillment Different in atrocities Different in perceptions Different in locality Different in the differences And similar in a way They are different Only thing common Is the change Have you the perception To get into the change Around, within and without The change is happening It is present It is the thing to feel To perceive Try to understand, the less you get it Feel the change Percepts of change Accept the change you must Teach change if you can Be a change if you ought to For the new ones For the old ones And for the no ones Take a deep breadth Feel the cool breeze of change Breathe the change Live the change Teach the change Be the change See differences seem to be similarities Notion of diversities Notion of change Notion of no differences Notion of similarities People and generations Perceiving things At different levels Inhabitable is the change Perceiving change Is the key In general To say the least Chants Abundance Belongingness Grace Love Alive
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158
I was mad. I was mad about being second best. I was mad about taking a second place in your heads. I was mad about what you discussed behind my back. I was mad about realising how mad it all made me become. I was sad. I was sad about how excluded you made me feel. I was sad about how vulnerable I had let myself become. I was sad about not feeling as important to you anymore. I was sad because I felt so alone without you. With you. I was tired. I was tired of seeing them push me aside. I was tired of being interrupted for your gains. I was tired of being used to broaden your shoulders And widen your egos I was tired of seeing her face and hearing you laugh at her words. I was wounded. Wounded because you left me all alone when I needed you. Wounded because you chose them over me. And her. Wounded because I had finally found my place and they took it from me. Wounded because my mistakes were haunting me. Wounded because you were hurting me, neglecting me, rejecting me. Now you've come back to me. Come back like I predicted. Come back like none of this ever happened. Come back like she was never here. Like I never asked you that question. Come back like we were never different. Come back like my heart is still yours and yours is still mine. And now you smile at me, Talk to me, Laugh at me like nothing ever happened, nothing ever changed. Like we will still remain The same And I don't know what to think anymore Other than what love is made of.
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Sep 17, 2018
Sep 17, 2018 at 7:58 PM UTC
Undecided
Covent Garden. Midnight. Revellers and tourists combined. The market is heaving. Last trains are leaving. An eclectic mix to broaden the mind. Covent Garden. 2am. The place is pretty quiet. Pubs have closed. Clubs.... God knows. The tourists have frozen their riot. Covent Garden. 4am. A drunkard stumbles by. Flood lit shops. A rickshaw stops. The backdrop against a reddish sky. Covent Garden. 6am. Blokes lurk down Langley street. The glint of a blade. A blur in the shade. Lava tip of cigarette falls to a strangers feet. Covent Garden. 8am. Commuters emerge from underground stations. Workers prepare. Visitors beware. Pick pockets attracted like gravitation.
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Jul 10, 2015
Jul 10, 2015 at 2:30 PM UTC
Covent Garden by night.
I've watched too late; the morn is near; One look at God's broad silent sky! Oh, hopes and wishes vainly dear, How in your very strength ye die! Even while your glow is on the cheek, And scarce the high pursuit begun, The heart grows faint, the hand grows weak, The task of life is left undone. See where upon the horizon's brim, Lies the still cloud in gloomy bars; The waning moon, all pale and dim, Goes up amid the eternal stars. Late, in a flood of tender light, She floated through the ethereal blue, A softer sun, that shone all night Upon the gathering beads of dew. And still thou wanest, pallid moon! The encroaching shadow grows apace; Heaven's everlasting watchers soon Shall see thee blotted from thy place. Oh, Night's dethroned and crownless queen! Well may thy sad, expiring ray Be shed on those whose eyes have seen Hope's glorious visions fade away. Shine thou for forms that once were bright, For sages in the mind's eclipse, For those whose words were spells of might, But falter now on stammering lips! In thy decaying beam there lies Full many a grave on hill and plain, Of those who closed their dying eyes In grief that they had lived in vain. Another night, and thou among The spheres of heaven shalt cease to shine, All rayless in the glittering throng Whose lustre late was quenched in thine. Yet soon a new and tender light From out thy darkened orb shall beam, And broaden till it shines all night On glistening dew and glimmering stream.
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The Waning Moon
Show me your heart, And I'll show you a work of art I'll make it grand I'll make it with allure I'll make it to withstand Even time and the impure Give me that pen, I'll make the horizons broaden I'll let you see The wonders of the universe I'll show you that you're not just any For you are a blessing, not a curse How about just a smile, And I'll walk with you down the aisle We'll write of our adventures quaintly, Be it with pens or pencils Even with the most unlikely of writing utensils
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Dec 8, 2014
Dec 8, 2014 at 7:17 AM UTC
The Most Unlikely of Writing Utensils
Mommy why, i was just barely opening my heart to  you Mommy you see me through the screen beating my life to you 120 beats per second ,faster than your heart mommy. Mommy, I feel your smile broaden Mommy I will love you conditionally **Moommyy what is this clamp mommy , please don't it hurts it hurts please mommy** Seven Weeks , Three Days Pregnant I lost you my precious , Words will never define the darkness I feel in my heart . The darkness of how unloving my heart became, How heartless humanity was around me like infectious leech. Letting you go was the consequences of the bite. Please forgive me,  I made the biggest mistake in my life. The one mistake, where you won't grow up to learn from. What was left of my heart became stone cold , I let go my true shot of happiness, but I couldn't bring you into a world of brokenness and despair. You deserve better, but better than you will ever receive from me. One day I hope you understand. I promise you , my love lies deep in my veins.  I love you ,Heaven needed you back and I regret not standing like warrior and fighting for you. I never will wash dirt on my back,I can never stop apologizing for the vicious attacks you endured by me . Every sunrise and sunset I will forever mourn the death of my own humanity against you. One last breath,Mommy, I love you Forever I'll float down the river ,patiently waiting for ocean to wash me into abyss , humming to the lullaby,I would have sang to you my precious gift.
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Feb 18, 2016
Feb 18, 2016 at 4:20 AM UTC
I am sorry my little precious fetus
Mommy why, i was just barely opening my heart to  you Mommy you see me through the screen beating my life to you 120 beats per second ,faster than your heart mommy. Mommy, I feel your smile broaden Mommy I will love you conditionally **Moommyy what is this clamp mommy , please don't it hurts it hurts please mommy** Seven Weeks , Three Days Pregnant I lost you my precious , Words will never define the darkness I feel in my heart . The darkness of how unloving my heart became, How heartless humanity was around me like infectious leech. Letting you go was the consequences of the bite. Please forgive me,  I made the biggest mistake in my life. The one mistake, where you won't grow up to learn from. What was left of my heart became stone cold , I let go my true shot of happiness, but I couldn't bring you into a world of brokenness and despair. You deserve better, but better than you will ever receive from me. One day I hope you understand. I promise you , my love lies deep in my veins.  I love you ,Heaven needed you back and I regret not standing like warrior and fighting for you. I never will wash dirt on my back,I can never stop apologizing for the vicious attacks you endured by me . Every sunrise and sunset I will forever mourn the death of my own humanity against you. One last breath,Mommy, I love you Forever I'll float down the river ,patiently waiting for ocean to wash me into abyss , humming to the lullaby,I would have sang to you my precious gift.
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Soil: the great connector and healer! River: the messenger of time and energy! Mountain: the mark of immense hope and stepping up! Plain: the ground for practicing and achieving dream! Flower: the smear of flourishing smiles! Grass: the broaden of tranquility! Birds: the messenger of exuberance! We are only visitors to this arcade! Since the don of our civilization trying hard to infer nature’s creation!
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Apr 24, 2014
Apr 24, 2014 at 6:27 AM UTC
Nature’s arcade
"Write hard and clear about what hurts." -- Ernest Hemingway It hurts that my grandmother might not be around for my wedding It hurts that my grandfather may be, but may not remember it It hurts that I live so far my from people I love It hurts knowing they will hurt when I tell them I want to move clear across the country It hurts that I am stuck here, facing people I would rather avoid It hurts that a place I called home has turned on me It hurts more that I may be imagining they have turned on me It hurts to think I may have disappointed the first person to give me a chance It hurts that people I once called friends will speak so bitterly about me It hurts that, ten months later, I so strongly miss someone who melds perfectly with us It hurts that she would rather run than even attempt to see what it's like It hurts that she may act so calm, as if nothing happened It hurts that her facade is so strong, while mine crumbles at the sight of her It hurts that the longer we go on, the more we risk becoming "that creepy older couple" It hurts that it hurts him, when I still speak of wanting another It hurts that I would not be complete without one or the other It hurts that so many friends are married, and growing families It hurts that I will have to defend my own choices in growing mine It hurts that I must defend my family to my family It hurts that so many people work the job that pays the bills, and the job they really love It hurts that the job I love must be revealed strategically It hurts that who I am must be revealed strategically It hurts anticipating the hurt that will come from that judgement It hurts when I try to broaden my horizons, and I can see the hurt in my best friend's eyes It hurts watching people not fulfill their full potential It hurts watching people work so hard, but still gain so little It hurts working so hard in my job, becoming so tired that my joy, my passion falls by the wayside It hurts that we work so hard for things that do not truly comfort us It hurts that we take so little for granted It hurts that we take so many for granted
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Jul 23, 2013
Jul 23, 2013 at 10:48 PM UTC
What Hurts
"Write hard and clear about what hurts." -- Ernest Hemingway It hurts that my grandmother might not be around for my wedding It hurts that my grandfather may be, but may not remember it It hurts that I live so far my from people I love It hurts knowing they will hurt when I tell them I want to move clear across the country It hurts that I am stuck here, facing people I would rather avoid It hurts that a place I called home has turned on me It hurts more that I may be imagining they have turned on me It hurts to think I may have disappointed the first person to give me a chance It hurts that people I once called friends will speak so bitterly about me It hurts that, ten months later, I so strongly miss someone who melds perfectly with us It hurts that she would rather run than even attempt to see what it's like It hurts that she may act so calm, as if nothing happened It hurts that her facade is so strong, while mine crumbles at the sight of her It hurts that the longer we go on, the more we risk becoming "that creepy older couple" It hurts that it hurts him, when I still speak of wanting another It hurts that I would not be complete without one or the other It hurts that so many friends are married, and growing families It hurts that I will have to defend my own choices in growing mine It hurts that I must defend my family to my family It hurts that so many people work the job that pays the bills, and the job they really love It hurts that the job I love must be revealed strategically It hurts that who I am must be revealed strategically It hurts anticipating the hurt that will come from that judgement It hurts when I try to broaden my horizons, and I can see the hurt in my best friend's eyes It hurts watching people not fulfill their full potential It hurts watching people work so hard, but still gain so little It hurts working so hard in my job, becoming so tired that my joy, my passion falls by the wayside It hurts that we work so hard for things that do not truly comfort us It hurts that we take so little for granted It hurts that we take so many for granted
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Sometimes Life keeps moving when you're trying so hard to hold still. Roll with the punches, make changes, do something to better yourself Or simply fade away. There's more out there, There's undiscovered emotions and ideas that could broaden your horizons wider than the most beautiful sunset that you may never even see because you were too set in your ways to go outside your comfortable little box and really SEE the world. The choice is yours.
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Jun 9, 2016
Jun 9, 2016 at 11:38 AM UTC
Roll With The Punches
You are my sword and shield you are my suit of armor you are the helm upon my head, the feather in my hair. You smile and my spine straightens my shoulders broaden my muscles swell. Someone tries to tell me that your love is a sin and my laughter is a spear and the memory of your hand in mine turns my heart to a weapon. I am Achilles and David and Joan of Arc I am Hua Mulan. You kiss me and your breath turns my lungs to billows, your blood is in my veins and not a drop will spill. I can fight anyone I can do anything if it’s done in the name of you.
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Jun 11, 2015
Jun 11, 2015 at 8:06 PM UTC
You are my sword and shield
Our palms press down Muscles flow in eager rapture Our shoulders broaden Spines lengthen Our hips press down Fluid motion twisting Around and through and above We grow in balance Feeling high above and far away But here in total darkness We see through feeling And here in total darkness The light in me reaches out And tethers to the light in you.
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Mar 5, 2013
Mar 5, 2013 at 3:21 PM UTC
Namaste
The grey gulls drift across the bay Softly and still as flakes of snow Against the thinning fog. All day I sat and watched them come and go; And now at last the sun was set, Filling the waves with colored fire Till each seemed like a jewelled spire ****** up from some drowned city. Soon From peak and cliff and minaret The city's lights began to wink, Each like a friendly word. The moon Began to broaden out her shield, Spurting with silver. Straight before The brown hills lay like quiet beasts Stretched out beside a well-loved door, And filling earth and sky and field With the calm heaving of their ******* Nothing was gone, nothing was changed, The smallest wave was unestranged By all the long ache of the years Since last I saw them, blind with tears. Their welcome like the hills stood fast: And I, I had come home at last. So I laughed out with them aloud To think that now the sun was broad, And climbing up the iron sky, Where the raw streets stretched sullenly About another room I knew, In a mean house -- and soon there, too, The smith would burst the flimsy door And find me lying on the floor. Just where I fell the other night, After that breaking wave of pain. -- How they will storm and rage and fight, Servants and mistress, one and all, "No money for the funeral!" I broke my life there. Let it stand At that. The waters are a plain, Heaving and bright on either hand, A tremulous and lustral peace Which shall endure though all things cease, Filling my heart as water fills A cup. There stand the quiet hills. So, waiting for my wings to grow, I watch the gulls sail to and fro, Rising and falling, soft and swift, Drifting along as bubbles drift. And, though I see the face of God Hereafter -- this day have I trod Nearer to Him than I shall tread Ever again. The night is dead. And there's the dawn, poured out like wine Along the dim horizon-line. And from the city comes the chimes -- We have our heaven on earth -- sometimes!
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The City Revisited
The grey gulls drift across the bay Softly and still as flakes of snow Against the thinning fog. All day I sat and watched them come and go; And now at last the sun was set, Filling the waves with colored fire Till each seemed like a jewelled spire ****** up from some drowned city. Soon From peak and cliff and minaret The city's lights began to wink, Each like a friendly word. The moon Began to broaden out her shield, Spurting with silver. Straight before The brown hills lay like quiet beasts Stretched out beside a well-loved door, And filling earth and sky and field With the calm heaving of their ******* Nothing was gone, nothing was changed, The smallest wave was unestranged By all the long ache of the years Since last I saw them, blind with tears. Their welcome like the hills stood fast: And I, I had come home at last. So I laughed out with them aloud To think that now the sun was broad, And climbing up the iron sky, Where the raw streets stretched sullenly About another room I knew, In a mean house -- and soon there, too, The smith would burst the flimsy door And find me lying on the floor. Just where I fell the other night, After that breaking wave of pain. -- How they will storm and rage and fight, Servants and mistress, one and all, "No money for the funeral!" I broke my life there. Let it stand At that. The waters are a plain, Heaving and bright on either hand, A tremulous and lustral peace Which shall endure though all things cease, Filling my heart as water fills A cup. There stand the quiet hills. So, waiting for my wings to grow, I watch the gulls sail to and fro, Rising and falling, soft and swift, Drifting along as bubbles drift. And, though I see the face of God Hereafter -- this day have I trod Nearer to Him than I shall tread Ever again. The night is dead. And there's the dawn, poured out like wine Along the dim horizon-line. And from the city comes the chimes -- We have our heaven on earth -- sometimes!
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A QUIET GIRL TO MANY I SEEMED THEY AREN'T AWARE OF WHAT I CAN BE MY WAYS ARE IMPROVING THROUGH FINE CARE I MASTER INTRICATE PROBLEMS WITH FLAIR TRUST IS SOMETHING EARNED OVER A LONG TIME RESPONSIBILITY IS TAUGHT THROUGH TRUST AND HOPE I WANT MY ELDERS TO SEE THOSE QUALITIES WITHIN SO THAT THEY CAN DEPEND ON ME IN TIMES OF DISTRAUGHT MY GRADES SEEMED SNAIL LIKE MY DREAMS A SIMILARITY THIS YEAR I'M TRYING TO IMPROVE AND BE BETTER THAN WHAT I WAS PREVIOUSLY SCHOOL, FROM NOW ON IS A TOP PRIORITY MY SUBJECTS WILL BE EASY,I HOPE I AM TRYING MY BEST I MIGHT SEEM QUIET AND DETACHED BUT I'M DREAMING BIG, THAT'S A FACT MY SELF CONFIDENCE SEEMS LOW BUT MY SELF ESTEEM A HIGH ONE, THOUGH THINGS CAN ONLY GO BETTER THAN IT WAS BEFORE IT'LL TAKE PATIENCE PERSEVERANCE DETERMINATION THAT'S GOOD SURE THE EARTH IS IN OF HELPERS TO PROTECT AND CONSERVE HER SHE CRIES WHEN WE POLLUTE SHE SMILED WHEN WE MAKE A DIFFERENCE I INTEND TO BE A PART OF A GROUP THAT CLEANS UP THIS WORLD SO THAT IN FUTURE MANY CAN REAL THE RICHNESS OF IT RUNNING A MILE IS DIFFERENT BUT THAT'S GOING TO CHANGE I'M SURE IT WILL THIS WILL BALANCE MY LIFE BROADEN MY BRAIN RELAX MY BODY I'M GOING TO NEED DEDICATION MOTIVATION PARTICIPATION A COLD PLACE FAR UP NORTH IS WHERE IS LIKE TO TRAVEL FOURTH AND MEET A FEW BOYS, WHO ARE SPECIAL TO ME
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Aug 15, 2013
Aug 15, 2013 at 9:52 AM UTC
REFLECTION
Her alias was Sunrise The affable Sky Brags her entity In the high latitude Her voice was heard. There exists Energy He puts up the plug With the invisible outlet Of the naked Sky His charged particles Brought collision Brought wonder To the full-sized Universe. The solar wind The Earth Both were crowd-pullers Every one knelt down As they see The Roman Goddess of Dawn Her melodramatic entrance Her chameleon-like aptitude The neon lights Without Christmas ***** Made her zone broaden. I am the Seeker A Dreamer In this winter breeze I lied down With the techy remote Unearthing The Goddess of Fantasy. (12/5/13 @xirlleelang)
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May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 10:24 PM UTC
The Roman Goddess of Dawn
When she enters a worthless life she paints a ******* beautiful picture Then destroys everything in the path When she loves she loves with her whole entire black hole of A heart When she hates, the passionate evil she creates ignites a fiery death Its all part of this plan that Izzy Broaden has made into a wonderful psychotic abstract life WORTHLESS WONDROUS EMBRACING LIFE! On my level? HA! HA! HA! You cannot even began to fathom where to find my level When you try to wrap your ******* stupid brain around the dimension where to start looking for my Impenetrable Levels you get demolished by my thoughts
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Aug 21, 2015
Aug 21, 2015 at 3:34 PM UTC
Divine
I have been witness to many things You must fear not what cold winter brings You are young, but the reason this bird sings To you, sapling, this bird clings Let go of your evergreen hesitations Your leaves will fall in wondrous presentations Followed by gazes of beautiful validation Your stems a sign of majestic acclimatization While your trunk grows larger and far more in tune Your leaves will broaden to as large as the moon To each passing insect and all birds here soon Your pits to catch water as a natural spoon You see, young sapling, you are a delight Do not see winter as a source for fright Each tree in this forest has seen the same plight But all have continued their journey for light
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Nov 11, 2014
Nov 11, 2014 at 5:00 PM UTC
the tree to the sapling : winter's validation
Who am I inside my own mind? Deep inside the answer lies I’m not sure what I’ll find In the confines of my head Throw away what’s fake Forgive my mistakes As I walk down this crooked street It seems to narrow for me My ego and my id The infants and the old Dividing house and home Broaden my perception I see more than what’s here At last visions clear Joy out weights my fears Not everything’s black and white No words for what I’ve seen It’s all mine, it’s me There’s always something more Look further and examine Find the truth, toss out the lies And just enjoy your life Take the blue or take the red Take a trip inside your head Are we living, living dead Right is wrong and left is right Yell and scream day is night Beauty so serene Hello goodbye nowhere somewhere Going at your own pace, see the signs The answers almost there So clear So near My dear
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Dec 3, 2013
Dec 3, 2013 at 5:29 PM UTC
Insightful Reassurance From a Loving Friend
Tears from the mystical sky seeped in through my shoulder— as I let its fervor tears dampen my lowly soul; he said, “hear me out” The way it moves around sailing toward to broaden mysterious mists—the plastic clouds covering most of the gleam of the sun and the way he murmurs into my ears— I can never get out again. While strange stares pierced through my core—a menacing way of forcing unraveling fragile pieces of my silent port, and there I let a foreign one travel his way through— sailing beneath my springs. On this day of August's chilly afternoon— while the tears of the mystical sky tumbles through my shoulder—dripping my cold dry bones.
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Jul 29, 2020
Jul 29, 2020 at 8:51 AM UTC
August 27th
My window has no seat, why would it? I wish it did. There is just a glossy magnolia ledge, barely wide enough to cater a slender bottom. Upon the ledge books and candles rest, illuminating the murk outside. Directly opposite orchard trees recede as I welcome autumn with a zealous smirk. For now faintly visible between their visceral arms are the all-seeing hillocks that in winter will dominate my view. An impartial observer once stated they were mere freckles on the landscapes recumbent spine, but to me their sight alone is vertiginous. On balmy April days I would surmount them, a personal expedition, up there where I’m the valleys curator, wearing pristine white gloves I meticulously unravel the terrain: an ancient manuscript, the vellum inked with meandering streams, occasional farms, cursive hamlets and little else - a land of sobriety and dearth. In November though there is a permanent mist and its source inexplicable. Does it simply effervesce from the precipitous tors about? Is it the villager’s enshrined collective sigh? No it is something more. Sitting atop the villages head it’s the beloved satin bonnet you wore religiously as a child. Wholly impractical for this season its gossamer fabric offers little solace or insulation to those below as its pleated extremities elope with the moss-brown hinterland. Fervently stoking their hearths the villagers broaden the ethereal cloth with a smoke not acrid but satisfying and nourishing: with a terrifically edible, hardwood flavour. From my hillock vantage, the sanguine stone of the manorial chimneys is all that penetrates the film; casually they release torrents of smoke like ivory doves that weft patterns instinctively into the sky’s pallid damask. ©Thomas Gabriel
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Dec 9, 2011
Dec 9, 2011 at 6:00 PM UTC
November 19.
My window has no seat, why would it? I wish it did. There is just a glossy magnolia ledge, barely wide enough to cater a slender bottom. Upon the ledge books and candles rest, illuminating the murk outside. Directly opposite orchard trees recede as I welcome autumn with a zealous smirk. For now faintly visible between their visceral arms are the all-seeing hillocks that in winter will dominate my view. An impartial observer once stated they were mere freckles on the landscapes recumbent spine, but to me their sight alone is vertiginous. On balmy April days I would surmount them, a personal expedition, up there where I’m the valleys curator, wearing pristine white gloves I meticulously unravel the terrain: an ancient manuscript, the vellum inked with meandering streams, occasional farms, cursive hamlets and little else - a land of sobriety and dearth. In November though there is a permanent mist and its source inexplicable. Does it simply effervesce from the precipitous tors about? Is it the villager’s enshrined collective sigh? No it is something more. Sitting atop the villages head it’s the beloved satin bonnet you wore religiously as a child. Wholly impractical for this season its gossamer fabric offers little solace or insulation to those below as its pleated extremities elope with the moss-brown hinterland. Fervently stoking their hearths the villagers broaden the ethereal cloth with a smoke not acrid but satisfying and nourishing: with a terrifically edible, hardwood flavour. From my hillock vantage, the sanguine stone of the manorial chimneys is all that penetrates the film; casually they release torrents of smoke like ivory doves that weft patterns instinctively into the sky’s pallid damask. ©Thomas Gabriel
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I am the universe. Unique and indivisible. Focus on this, my inner truth. Then, broaden bright consciousness to subsume everything into this sphere of most subtle and sublime reality. Until a greater dawn reveals. I am part of everything: The universe is me.
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Feb 22, 2017
Feb 22, 2017 at 8:47 AM UTC
Meditation
Philanthropic gesticulations are an evident dismissal of Anglican legends. In this Northern hemisphere, we are unified on the verge of an axial tilt, whilst equestrian ladies in jodhpurs of champagne delicacy seek profanities beyond the confines of social respectability. Let us sit under the wise branches of the oak tree in nocturnal dimensions of Newtonian questionability, and broaden our horizons as we contemplate our ancestors. Listen to the bubbling brook as she whispers timeless stories of enchantment. Oh, bearer of liberated pain, I resent fox-hunting. The rooster always crows at dawn.
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Jun 19, 2014
Jun 19, 2014 at 10:35 PM UTC
Sowing the Seeds of Solstice
Broaden my soul, keep me dreaming, enable my soul to do good, infinitely, forever. Speak over the barriers,then let me celebrate in the halls of your power and song. Let me be taken underneath a thousand more colors of peace, teach my soul and knit wisdom into me, make me whole. Keep me in love with you, take away my blindness, clear the soul scars, open the mirrors of yesterday no more. Dry out the pain in my heart, let me not stare in fear, or wander, teach me, uplift me, be my star in the sky. Lord, remove my enemies, appoint your strong angels against them, for they are many who seek to destroy. I am yours, think of me always, blend my soul with your breath and beloved music and song. Keep me as long as the Earth endures. Sincerely, I love you.
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Nov 8, 2015
Nov 8, 2015 at 8:53 PM UTC
Uncut Prayers V
You've got a pale mind and skin to match. Misery still wet on your lips. Don't shy away from the sun darling- It with it's horizon will broaden yours. It's time to stop showing your scars But to restore your golden glow. We're all cowards at something in our heads. Heads filled with endless delight. Heads filled with drowning corpses. But Our dreams- Sliced the expectations of brainwashed bystanders. Intertwined with poison and passion can show us- Love Will Always Survive.
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Jun 7, 2013
Jun 7, 2013 at 9:43 PM UTC
The Graveyard Garden