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"contemplations" poems
My one on one time begins as soon as I pick up this pencil Writing to release these contemplations The lead takes me to a process of distillation Being careful not to run out from this eraser Our everyday mistakes can be related to an eraser Once you run out from your eraser you cannot wipe away any errors So you carefully choose and think wisely Being mindful of the insufficiency and blackness of the eraser No matter how many times you erase there will always be a trail of black spots left behind Live life as if you were running out from your own eraser That way you pursue perfection and not mistakes Don't be the eraser that runs out quicker than the lead Copyright© Cynthia Ulloa All rights reserved.
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May 1, 2014
May 1, 2014 at 1:12 AM UTC
Eraser
The wood is stacked for winter. One way out of the mind's limitations is through other minds' contemplations. The books are stacked for winter. Yet even that cannot satisfy. Failing to hold still for meditation my teacher smiles, makes this observation: The purpose of sitting's not to be satisfied or satiated. Remain hungry, cold, uncomfortable and counting enemies. These, and fear, are our commonalities, and the discipline of not hitting whenever angry. You'll appreciate dying quietly at home. Whichever season has been randomly assigned will be       beautiful as ever as a molecule of water is to all matter. "In my life there were always too many things." If there is no time, only change the linear becomes circular. Do not say north or south. You're within the winter range of chickadees, hawks, owls and herons. River grapes, rose hips, the cedar waxwings' repast. Their talk is my reminding change outlasts endurance.
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Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 11:52 AM UTC
Nature's Intelligent Partner
ALTHOUGH I shelter from the rain Under a broken tree, My chair was nearest to the fire In every company That talked of love or politics, Ere Time transfigured me. Though lads are making pikes again For some conspiracy, And crazy rascals rage their fill At human tyranny, My contemplations are of Time That has transfigured me. There's not a woman turns her face Upon a broken tree, And yet the beauties that I loved Are in my memory; I spit into the face of Time That has transfigured me.
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4k
The Lamentation Of The Old Pensioner
a rubix cube upon my desk with half the colors matching near a wayward garden gnome what plots might he be hatching contemplations fill my head of life and all its meanings a conservative at heart despite my leftist leanings someday I’ll find the leprechaun hiding at the rainbow’s end I’ll take that ******** lucky charms before he runs again memories haunt my waking mind not sure if they're even real vertigo and déjà vu are all that I can feel I think I’ll take another hit that should finally stop the spinning as my pet rock races Charlie Brown the rubix cube is winning
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Apr 8, 2010
Apr 8, 2010 at 7:06 PM UTC
Rubix Cube
The red of cigarette ashes contrasts the white upon the snow. The expanse is unbroken as his gaze wanders lonely plains. He takes one puff; then another; then another one so he can forget her face, and remember how it feels to live again. His parka is unzipped as he breathes in air so cold, and cigarette cherries reach his palm and burn away cold contemplations. He smiles at the Arctic gods' cool ministrations; their fervent consolations for the love he is smoking and forgetting in the snow. He zips up his jacket, tosses ashes far below. He turns away, his footsteps marking the white waste. They are the only remnant of his remembering ablation, and soon, they too, are absorbed by the plateau.
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Mar 4, 2015
Mar 4, 2015 at 10:28 PM UTC
Arctic Smoke
I wish it was easier for people to forget, if things left their mind as easy as they let them in, tough skin wouldn’t wear thin as easy as it is right now, my past is full of imperfections and bad decisions, leaving unstitched incisions beneath the brink of sanity, but who’s isn’t? every time falsities start, my mind races with my heart to contemplations on when to finish, they tattoo the past of others on their insecurities, fuelling the fire that burns a hole into respect and reputation, creating a vicious cycle of revenge and envy, each gossip verbally vomited into naive ears pulls the marionette strings of perception into the road normally taken, two roads may have diverged at a yellow wood, but when the ignorance burns yellow to ash,  the road less taken seems blocked, so the next time you hear something about another, don’t be too quick spread the word, the game of telephone can get a little distorted when the next phone call you get is that they were found hanging from a rope.                                 MJB
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Feb 17, 2016
Feb 17, 2016 at 1:37 AM UTC
Bad Decisions Left Unforgotten°
You'll never get to experience the depth of the still water until you're submerged. The iceberg of the mind... There are no mistakes, only lessons manifesting in various degrees of challenge. Adversity is the crucible through which character is shaped. Let my equanimity be mistaken for indifference, as my tolerance is for acceptance. Because the mountain piercing the heavens is actually a dormant volcano.
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Jul 8, 2020
Jul 8, 2020 at 11:26 AM UTC
Contemplations of stoicism
I think I need a girlfriend But maybe then I don’t Suffice to say That when the day Comes I get what I want, I won’t Waste a minute, waste a moment A nanosecond or more I’m by no means clingy But the joy she’ll bring me I’ll glady return in scores I think I need a girlfriend My hand is far too cold It speaks to me (Between ************ And asks for another to hold Was that too much information? If it was, apologies are due It’s just, you see The overwhelming lonely Like ***** sometimes accrues I need to shut up if I want a girlfriend My censorship is not the best My intentions are pure But my words get obscured As soon as they leave my chest Because... ugh... and also... grrr And **** And **** And sigh I just want... you know So we can... smile? And if someone would give it a try Then I would love and cherish a girlfriend Id wipe away the tears From her, from me And everything And love her, far or near I’m distant and I’m awkward I’m clumsy and sometimes stupid I’ve been the **** Of love, a joke And the victim of broken arrows from Cupid I think I need a girlfriend Who sees me for the poetry Without a word spoke Nor the ones that I wrote Just one who accepts me for me
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Oct 1, 2018
Oct 1, 2018 at 1:04 PM UTC
Contemplations of a Single Man
Alabaster Archipelagos Benevolent Beauty Beaming Constructive Contradictive Creative Contemplations Dante's Darling Dances Deliberating Denominatives Effervescent Escapisms Endearingly Emerge Elusive Edens   Fantastic Flamboyant ******** Flamed Fabulous Fiery Flickerings Gorgeous Garden Gim'memores Gaudied Garnishing Gasps Heavenly Hues Humming Heart's Harmonies Immortaly Impregnated Inspired Ideals Jessamin Jargon Jacuzzi Jams Know-how Knacking Knurls Light-spirited Lovers Merge Magnificent Naked Nocturno Nights Omnipresent Ousia Over Odeons Palpitations Perfect Peaks Pi Paws Quintessential Quality Quarrels Question Quarks Quietness Rododendron's Richameters Rescued Raw Reeling Ruby Realms Sentient Syllabic Sapfo's Splendidly Spirited Semantics Turning Turner's Timeless Timeless Twinklings Unified Undulatory Unsolved Unicorns Velvety Venice Voyages Wanton Wantings Xsylophone Xsantiphas Yearnin' Yuki's Yen Zed's Zealous Zen-it-hall Zeppelins
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Aug 16, 2015
Aug 16, 2015 at 9:26 AM UTC
A to Be is Why to Zed ~ An Alabaster's Alphabet
Sometimes a voice in your head will tell you that you are a disappointment.  Look that thing in the eye and say, "You're a disappointment!" Then realize that you are still shouting negative things at yourself in the mirror.  Second thought, don't.  Please don't take advice like this from me.
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Jul 12, 2018
Jul 12, 2018 at 8:17 PM UTC
Contemplations #-1: Self-Talk
that feeling in the pit of your stomach as you raise your eyes to look at them, it's lethal my love is like poison and the second upon exposure i'm left vulnerable but you're left affected forever, one step forward, a single blow to the lips and he has to open his eyes to see her face and remember this is real, she is real it won't be movie love, it will be real love, and for that you must be warned - do not engage if you don't want after-sex cuddles and life contemplations, hot chocolate runs and holding hands without gloves since the heat from your hands are enough to warm the lack of oxygen reaching mine, late night laughter and cheesy dancing do not engage if you don't want to let yourself fall in love, because it will happen slowly and if you realise when it's too late that you need to back out you need to know that like a bee who stings and dies, pushing me away from you after i've loved will cause me to be crippled not only by the weight of the falseness that i've been living in, but also the dense, crushing weight of my own love, of the letters and the kisses and the laughter if you see me contemplate running after you when we say goodbye because i've always had a fear of departure, if you see my eyes light up when you walk into a room with an expression that can only be described as warmth and admiration, if you see my hand slowly make its way to yours in a desire to be held and comforted, if you see me love completely, depressingly, you need to stop me, because i'm warning you that if you don't i will get hurt and the pain of being locked out of my life forever will hurt you more in the months proceeding than it will hurt me as i learn to build myself up again for somebody else you can fall in love with my lips, my humour, my dresses, my laughter, my smile, the emptiness of my eyes, the constant fear, the happiness when food comes, and anything else and everything else - but please, remember that it's lethal it's lethal to love and to be loved, but it's the best poison i've ever really known
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Nov 29, 2015
Nov 29, 2015 at 1:16 PM UTC
love: a warning
that feeling in the pit of your stomach as you raise your eyes to look at them, it's lethal my love is like poison and the second upon exposure i'm left vulnerable but you're left affected forever, one step forward, a single blow to the lips and he has to open his eyes to see her face and remember this is real, she is real it won't be movie love, it will be real love, and for that you must be warned - do not engage if you don't want after-sex cuddles and life contemplations, hot chocolate runs and holding hands without gloves since the heat from your hands are enough to warm the lack of oxygen reaching mine, late night laughter and cheesy dancing do not engage if you don't want to let yourself fall in love, because it will happen slowly and if you realise when it's too late that you need to back out you need to know that like a bee who stings and dies, pushing me away from you after i've loved will cause me to be crippled not only by the weight of the falseness that i've been living in, but also the dense, crushing weight of my own love, of the letters and the kisses and the laughter if you see me contemplate running after you when we say goodbye because i've always had a fear of departure, if you see my eyes light up when you walk into a room with an expression that can only be described as warmth and admiration, if you see my hand slowly make its way to yours in a desire to be held and comforted, if you see me love completely, depressingly, you need to stop me, because i'm warning you that if you don't i will get hurt and the pain of being locked out of my life forever will hurt you more in the months proceeding than it will hurt me as i learn to build myself up again for somebody else you can fall in love with my lips, my humour, my dresses, my laughter, my smile, the emptiness of my eyes, the constant fear, the happiness when food comes, and anything else and everything else - but please, remember that it's lethal it's lethal to love and to be loved, but it's the best poison i've ever really known
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7
"my soul to keep" this prayer elegant, simple complexity, comes me haunting, every evening, this notion, a faint ghosting, repeatedly reappearing and nightly leaving, disappointed, from between my crumpled, sweaty bedsheets, departing with a demanding unsatisfied, incessant, coated with a diabolical, unfeigned challenge  - write of me, relentlessly commanding, right me only, no notions, come realized, no poem body, resolved solutions, are easy offered up your inner voices, fettered and deterred, begging you, screaming, this one, defer, defer, for better days, for better poets, who require no assembly instructions cannot improve upon it my distress, sensed; the lady of  the house, over the shoulder peering, sees the moody poem title that has self-selected to core this poet's core, for endless torture, raining down ruinous lamentation she, ever softly spoken *"good man, your soul, your poems - both mine to take and mine to keep this title, this poetic obligation fulfillingly, fittingly, my responsibility mine to write mine to keep mine to right mine to mine for its bejeweled contemplations render easily unto me what I have Caesarean seized, pried lovingly and forcibly from thee within though seemingly rightfully thine, title has passed, legally, tenderly, into your lover's arms banish poet thine troubled assembled, ensemble senses, this particular poem's journey and the soul that bears it, released and relieved, for now, mine to take, mine to keep, and thy soul, in mine to dwell, and mine to complete"* ~
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Mar 7, 2017
Mar 7, 2017 at 8:35 PM UTC
my soul to keep
"my soul to keep" this prayer elegant, simple complexity, comes me haunting, every evening, this notion, a faint ghosting, repeatedly reappearing and nightly leaving, disappointed, from between my crumpled, sweaty bedsheets, departing with a demanding unsatisfied, incessant, coated with a diabolical, unfeigned challenge  - write of me, relentlessly commanding, right me only, no notions, come realized, no poem body, resolved solutions, are easy offered up your inner voices, fettered and deterred, begging you, screaming, this one, defer, defer, for better days, for better poets, who require no assembly instructions cannot improve upon it my distress, sensed; the lady of  the house, over the shoulder peering, sees the moody poem title that has self-selected to core this poet's core, for endless torture, raining down ruinous lamentation she, ever softly spoken *"good man, your soul, your poems - both mine to take and mine to keep this title, this poetic obligation fulfillingly, fittingly, my responsibility mine to write mine to keep mine to right mine to mine for its bejeweled contemplations render easily unto me what I have Caesarean seized, pried lovingly and forcibly from thee within though seemingly rightfully thine, title has passed, legally, tenderly, into your lover's arms banish poet thine troubled assembled, ensemble senses, this particular poem's journey and the soul that bears it, released and relieved, for now, mine to take, mine to keep, and thy soul, in mine to dwell, and mine to complete"* ~
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78
thots and decisions questions and contemplations should i stay or should i go is this my place your place what kind of place is one like this medicine and tv helmets and screaming i dont belong here you dont belong here nobody does here your not human just mentally insane trying to make your way no one understands what its like to be me what i gotta go through the pain the hurt the game of life is ridiculous viscous and malicious
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Jan 16, 2012
Jan 16, 2012 at 3:45 PM UTC
The Game
Meditation does not mean to escape, but to come closer. Praying does not mean to speak, but to listen. Praying is meditation. In meditation you seek to allow peace to penetrate, to show itself, you seek truth. There is no knowledge in truth. Understanding means to throw away your knowledge. When you regain truth, you find peace. When you are at peace, you are mindful, compassion flourishes freely, you start to smile, and you fall in love, with everything. Compassion is a verb, love is freedom, and truth is to be yourself. Satya, shanti, prajna, karuna, ananda, prema is the order to parinibbana.
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May 5, 2012
May 5, 2012 at 4:10 PM UTC
Contemplations of an Arhat
thots, contemplations what should i do? where should i go? is today the day? why should i know! life comes and goes my life came, i might go im low and im high im certainly not high wish i was so i wouldnt be so low i think today i must go go down in flames burning slowerer than i ever have before im a ticking time-bomb but im about to explode i need to get out of here the end is near
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Jan 16, 2012
Jan 16, 2012 at 11:48 AM UTC
contemplations
The spirit of the age projects a myriad of peculiarities which are diametrically opposed to the wisdom of our ancestral manoeuvres of foreboding contemplations. It is sufficient for me to say, that I have rolled up my trouser-legs in metaphysical resignation. Lest you forget, that the history of our posterity is shrouded in post-Edwardian etiquette, as she balances on the brink of relinquished community.
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Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 4:09 PM UTC
The Industrialisation of Being
What is life What is it's meaning Age old questions since the brain of **** sapiens developed abstract contemplations I wonder, Could it's meaning be entirely subjective And that life is simply a matter of perspective We live in a vast and seemingly infinite universe Isolated on this tiny grain of dust that we like to call Earth To quote Sagan, on it "Everyone you know, everyone you love, Everyone who was, Every human being you've ever heard of," Lived here And that thought might be daunting The complexities and mysteries of the cosmos may be haunting But maybe we can find peace In the inevitable fact that our existence will one day cease So I open my mind to the thought, Why should we worry about everyday grief When to me, This entire concept provides a sense of relief
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May 1, 2017
May 1, 2017 at 3:15 AM UTC
A Reflection on Existence
I lay here open Open to possibilities and opportunities that present themselves for me with you But i Can't seem to break through this wall I have put up A wall made jus for me to protect and keep me from harmful situations Many contemplations about how am I gonna get through this again So I kept building and building on my personal wall Yeah see I built this wall with pain over and over and over A lil dab of betrayal A pinch of some scorn Oh and shovel full of layers of scar tissue covered with stitches for recovery Yeah I built this wall meticulously I would sometimes feel like I'm a guest Sometimes like an outsider in my own skin Moving along like a night rider Nobody seeing me or believing me So I carry some heavy footgear Holding them in my rear stow away I use it to move along through life without any scars, or that's what I try to do This footgear feels great because I can stomp, jump, and even do cartwheels over all my enemies Ancient conviction Shindy misleadings all leading up to my success Leaving me blessed Riding along this pack train saying hello mufasa and simba Oh and rifiki is there What's up.... See I admire their strength and agility I even know who continues to keep me A higher power and His name is Jesus Love Him to pieces But someone came outta nowhere Out From left field Try to catch the Foul ball Jumping over bases and even some left field men Trying to Break through my wall Shining some light on my night rider journey Complicated feelings taking many meanings My head is spinning Fear rising...leaving me paralyzed even though I still feel your touch when I'm away from you I'm scared...even some what terrified that I lie here and all I can think of is you Wondering if my brain waves can send out a signal over to you so that you know how I feel See night riders they don't open up Staying closed Sign on the door... No more customers...the day is over See We ride in the dark Trying to keep feelings secret A loner when it comes to sharing emotions Commotion on the inside but calm on the outside But maybe you can be my knight in shinning amour breaking down my walls Chipping and chipping away through all the dust and the rumble I may even stumble over you but at least I'll be in your arms Feeling safe through your touch that even peels away some of the hurt So right now I may be a night rider but I'm moving towards the horizon that is the beginning of some light
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May 21, 2013
May 21, 2013 at 4:57 PM UTC
Night Rider
I lay here open Open to possibilities and opportunities that present themselves for me with you But i Can't seem to break through this wall I have put up A wall made jus for me to protect and keep me from harmful situations Many contemplations about how am I gonna get through this again So I kept building and building on my personal wall Yeah see I built this wall with pain over and over and over A lil dab of betrayal A pinch of some scorn Oh and shovel full of layers of scar tissue covered with stitches for recovery Yeah I built this wall meticulously I would sometimes feel like I'm a guest Sometimes like an outsider in my own skin Moving along like a night rider Nobody seeing me or believing me So I carry some heavy footgear Holding them in my rear stow away I use it to move along through life without any scars, or that's what I try to do This footgear feels great because I can stomp, jump, and even do cartwheels over all my enemies Ancient conviction Shindy misleadings all leading up to my success Leaving me blessed Riding along this pack train saying hello mufasa and simba Oh and rifiki is there What's up.... See I admire their strength and agility I even know who continues to keep me A higher power and His name is Jesus Love Him to pieces But someone came outta nowhere Out From left field Try to catch the Foul ball Jumping over bases and even some left field men Trying to Break through my wall Shining some light on my night rider journey Complicated feelings taking many meanings My head is spinning Fear rising...leaving me paralyzed even though I still feel your touch when I'm away from you I'm scared...even some what terrified that I lie here and all I can think of is you Wondering if my brain waves can send out a signal over to you so that you know how I feel See night riders they don't open up Staying closed Sign on the door... No more customers...the day is over See We ride in the dark Trying to keep feelings secret A loner when it comes to sharing emotions Commotion on the inside but calm on the outside But maybe you can be my knight in shinning amour breaking down my walls Chipping and chipping away through all the dust and the rumble I may even stumble over you but at least I'll be in your arms Feeling safe through your touch that even peels away some of the hurt So right now I may be a night rider but I'm moving towards the horizon that is the beginning of some light
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51
Today. Calm wind cooling Warm chills brewing Animation of friends and houses And tickled thoughts of the delusional Small talk has becomes real talk Chores and sleep and obligation Braw-less day, we hang around calling on death, to save our illusion Tomorrow. Yesterday. Today. Mind now solution Contemplations gone away Lives of pretend and boxes I serve breakfast all day I see no evil I hear no good Sweet child run wild You’ll think you never could. Step over, check over No thoughts for the tame Calm music, quiet closer Failed liken No pay My feet hurt Your mouth hurts Go away, no please stay Slow me slow me down now **** off How’s your day? And turn down your sunny day! Joe smiled the other way! Ill love you tomorrow and not today! Consider it my way It’s the least I can do. Tomorrow. Yesterday. Today.
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Oct 15, 2013
Oct 15, 2013 at 12:55 AM UTC
Day
THOUGHTS Days consumed with images and memories of you... hugs,smiles, jokes,laughs, stares, sweet kisses so thoughts continue. Looking towards the constellations deep contemplations of whether or not we are destined to be controls my entity. Distracted by the funky melondies of untalented singers disrupt my yearning heartbeat. At times the feeling of flight overpowers me but there's something about you that leads to the constant cancellations of my many trips. See shorty doo *** rolling oowops... you intrigued my mind, captured my soul and now your so close to holding my heart that it seems unreal. I don't fall easily! You're piercing my heart without my consent. You shot me in the back and I became limp to all my Desires all the while I was looking at you,eye to eye, Yes this was the entire time. Confusing right, frustratingly enough its pretty complex this surprise attack. I have yet to start the healing process but what's even worse is Im not absolutely sure if I want to experience that, Or if your even ready yet! Guess Not... You said you'll take a Raincheck Just Speak Ta'resa Pearson
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Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 12:18 PM UTC
Thoughts of a Insecure Heart!
~ these words from a friend jar me from my glass-eyed read "even if we are not aware, we live in memories"  and in response i write, "i often feel watched by my loved ones passed on, as though they are aware of my every movement and deed, peering over the portals of a nearby dimension as one from a portico" watching what before them lies. fellow members of a "club" you didn't volunteer for, didn't sign your name to, you know firsthand the longing, the aching, the wishing and the wanting, the praying and the begging, the "take this cup" imploring, remove it far from me, the "i'm down on my knees begging you please" plea. grief... a mournful response a saudade for what will, what can never be again. a shadowy wood, where the seekers lie, where lovers come when lovers die; where hope once lost can still be found, where signs and wonders from beyond abound. where man can touch the face of God, where the path to freedom, with all it twist, its turns, brings new meaning and opens new doors. within this forest there lies a pool from which to drink and be renewed. healing waters in abundance here to wash away the bitter tears; the lonely hours here spent bring peace, its lovely flowers are rarest sweet; the dancer learns her steps again, the singer finds his inner voice; here hearts unfold and bare the creases, here anxious thoughts and anger ceases; and psalmist's soul here finds relief. ~ post script. *thank you Bala, for stirring my morning contemplation time and helping me to reflect on what i have, as being a part of what i have lost.  "saudade"- though sharing no English equivalent is best understood here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saudade as apples of gold are wise words... indeed!  my fellow poets, you are a grace to me, a gift i did not heretofore know of; the door to a contemplative.forest i had not previously known.  thank you, to each who stops in to make a kind, a generous comment and sometimes add a very thought-provoking word. i am grateful today!!*
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Feb 1, 2015
Feb 1, 2015 at 2:44 PM UTC
morning contemplations
~ these words from a friend jar me from my glass-eyed read "even if we are not aware, we live in memories"  and in response i write, "i often feel watched by my loved ones passed on, as though they are aware of my every movement and deed, peering over the portals of a nearby dimension as one from a portico" watching what before them lies. fellow members of a "club" you didn't volunteer for, didn't sign your name to, you know firsthand the longing, the aching, the wishing and the wanting, the praying and the begging, the "take this cup" imploring, remove it far from me, the "i'm down on my knees begging you please" plea. grief... a mournful response a saudade for what will, what can never be again. a shadowy wood, where the seekers lie, where lovers come when lovers die; where hope once lost can still be found, where signs and wonders from beyond abound. where man can touch the face of God, where the path to freedom, with all it twist, its turns, brings new meaning and opens new doors. within this forest there lies a pool from which to drink and be renewed. healing waters in abundance here to wash away the bitter tears; the lonely hours here spent bring peace, its lovely flowers are rarest sweet; the dancer learns her steps again, the singer finds his inner voice; here hearts unfold and bare the creases, here anxious thoughts and anger ceases; and psalmist's soul here finds relief. ~ post script. *thank you Bala, for stirring my morning contemplation time and helping me to reflect on what i have, as being a part of what i have lost.  "saudade"- though sharing no English equivalent is best understood here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saudade as apples of gold are wise words... indeed!  my fellow poets, you are a grace to me, a gift i did not heretofore know of; the door to a contemplative.forest i had not previously known.  thank you, to each who stops in to make a kind, a generous comment and sometimes add a very thought-provoking word. i am grateful today!!*
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71
I've noticed just how much of our talking waits until bedtime - as if until then we have lacked permission to pause until we've undressed and bundled ourselves into our duvet time-capsules. Alas, it’s then when the competing urgency of sleep rises and meets our log-jammed thoughts it’s then when our fight fades, when our wide meander sprawls, exhausted of its pungency And its then when our ability to cement thoughts cracks in the face of creeping sleep rerunning its classic dreams and rebuilding forgotten worlds that we’re fated to later abandon in the shudder of dawn, and the demands of a new day. And so, we delay any conscious introspection and leave our contemplations to our advancing Sandman as we slumber and sleepwalk in his wake.
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Aug 19, 2022
Aug 19, 2022 at 6:03 PM UTC
Bedtime
When were mislead from our conscience Who's to blame Our heart or mind Is our decisions made from our past or what's to be Decisions, contemplations, rationalizations Good vs bad the pro's and con's So many way's to decide Do you pray Do you cry Do you ask someone All I can say is its your decision If your not sure, it's easy Just put it in God's hands
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Jan 9, 2015
Jan 9, 2015 at 11:21 PM UTC
decisions
it’s like the clock is still working but the gears are no longer turning i’m burning up on empty *fuel dripping, leaking,* no longer capable of containing contemplations too volatile for proper taming, and so i’m just… resting. a dormant chamber of magma underneath the bedrock is often due for massive explosion but i never liked being out of control and the last thing i need are for my insides to get torn open. a tree bearing great fruits brilliantly disguised to hide its reckless disharmonious motion. *That is fear speaking. Apprehension.* Avoiding the waves because what follows next is spinning down through the vortex violently into uncharted oceans.
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Dec 27, 2014
Dec 27, 2014 at 12:06 AM UTC
Imagination Now Buffering, Please Hold!