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Andra Apr 2016
and we stay like this:
with fright,
cradling What If in our arms,
caressing Maybe's forehead.
confused.
fearful.
not knowing in which direction to go.
tick.
tock.
tick.
tock.
one more hour.
one more day.
they all pass by like that because...
we are waiting.

we are waiting
for a certain day so we can make that step,
the same when
we were waiting
for the school bell to announce the break.
we are waiting
for help,
but we never ask for it.
we are waiting
for another day to pass,
leave it,
maybe
tomorrow it will be okay.
we are waiting
for a sign,
a phone call,
it's not like I could call him to ask him out.
we are waiting
for the rain to stop,
so we won't ruin our hair
/pretty shoes
/coat
/etcetcetc.
we are waiting
for something we don't even know what it is,
because it would not be ok to do this or that.
we are waiting
because the sun did not rise yet and
it is too dark outside.
we are waiting
for ourselves.
we are waiting
without an aim.
maybe
something will happen so
we won't be bound to do things
we are afraid of and things
we are not sure of.
tick.
tock.
tick.
tock.

instead of getting the best out of every little thing that gives us the chance to discover, we stand in line for our own happiness...

you know that saying:
instead of us thinking thoughts,
the thoughts think us...
Shofi Ahmed Jun 2018
Hold it with nothing
only behold with the eyes!
Lo, this crescent Moon:
The heaven's smile in the night!

It’s the discovery made
walking down the black moon.
Without a light in the sight
as if walking blindfolded
but didn't go into the blue.

Took a trip into the matrix
without squaring the circle.
With no pattern, no more decimals of pi
undefined by design but found the Moon!
Daniel eason Nov 2018
Morphing objects, breathing walls
Gypsy caravans, market stalls
Roads to nowhere
Visions in mind
Where people are free happy and kind
Out there somewhere yet to discover
Chatting freely amongst one and other
As seasons go by people come and go
Letting go of what they used to know
A vison about a road to nowhere
jerelii Aug 2018
rush

in the forest
i see the light
of something true
though
beyond my circumstances
there’s a question
i can’t seem to find
doubts that hidden inside
squeezing me to tighten
my mind
but tensions are
boiling
far from what i know
and
yet the feelings
will always prevent me
to go
out of my limits
when you are only limited
but you haven’t tried going out there.
I think you just have to push yourself more
maybe, there’s an answer for it
someday when you keep exploring and
eventually you’ll end up discovering a lot
than you never expected to.


august 5, 2018
jerelii
copyright
Daniel eason Jan 29
When i take the steps to reach the other
My mind escapes my body to a place to discover
Here your wildest imaginations become visible to the eye
Even when you look up to the sky
Everything isnt what it seems
Look inside
The secrets are in your dreams
A poem that just came out
Kambria Donnelly Oct 2018
Intertwined lovers
hands discovering new skins
lips locked and hazed eyes
Jessica Stull Dec 2018
Fire, ice, spit, crackle, break into slice
Crimson, spirited scented perfumes
Aching fury, lonesome soul
Thou shalt know the torment raging below
Redolent though, the remindful memories we hold
©Jessica Stull
Most of my thoughts Brew in the captivity  of the workplace
Melinda Barrett May 2015
Mother Nature takes her toll
On complex creatures with gentle souls
She sends them rain when they seek solace
Her stars shine so bright that they them flawless
Rays beam the brightest when they're down
And shines their warmth upon their frowns
She opens their third eye so they might see
The striking beauty in a rugged tree
They look more closely and discover
That her roots connect us to each other
Verily, Twin Hearts in Friendship conceived
Is the Right Way to have Interpreted
When Shows like these make Public and Perceived
To give a Selfless Like un-expected
These Humans like me have a lot to Learn
To Grow what such Loyalty requires
Arthur in his Regality gave Concern
For Guinevere to foot what she desires
That is how a Follower must behave
When the Squire works best under the Light
Though empty in notice still carries to stave
For his High Lord to shine with all his Might.
You are that Peaceful; Such I discover
The Heretic in me I must recover.
#tomdaleytv #tomdaley1994
Kmary Jul 2018
There is no perfect word,
no adjective or noun
just a combination of
         I hate
         I worry
         I regret
         Am I enough?

It's a moment where my insecurities
are no longer a low hum
and I discover a whole
          new shade of
                  self-doubt
Hadiy Syakir Mar 2018
Maybe it's for you but not for me, but who knows?

When will the time stop and give way to the paradoxical space that will shove the soul out of its life, eventually?

Tend to think that the archetypal white collar worker is what you should be before you delve into the reality?

Jumped into the ripest chord of a void song, and you found nothing but truth and perplexity?

Threw yourself into the wilderness but you are still deprived of happiness, only peace, filled with emptiness?

Crashed the mental into bi-polarizing set of uncertainty and sanity, driving everything towards the ravine of confusion and misinterpretation?

Dropped the last sweat of joy and contentment before you discover the eventuality, pessimistic value of the whole context?  

Until the ultimate full stop appears, will you understand what is the whole story is all about?
Shofi Ahmed Oct 2017
Shining upon the rose,
lovely the sun rises
over the midday sky.

Without a second thought
the brightest one steps up
bends the ear on the ground.

Prophet Muhammad's (PBUH)
wife was waiting.
He was walking his way home.

Maybe or maybe not
one can revive from the
death sleeping at the night.
Hearing the sound
of the homecoming
beloved's foot though
one can't die.

The blessed lady heard
the sound of the foot
and was sure it was his.
This is it, it's the man, it's his!
He is coming home.

The sun is walking on the way.
It will show up
upon the rose in no time.

Ah, only to discover,
it was Fathima walking
father's home!

She, a woman had
her foot sounds the same as
the man's, the greatest of all!
The very one cannot be copied
because he is the masculine original.

Because from the one
same circle came
the man and the woman.
Maybe with a little gap
spilling infinite pi decimals
new days and new nights.

Still, these are a show of
the one Moon and the one Sun!
Daisy Marrow Oct 2014
I never thought I would fall for you twice,
but here I am writing this poem.
I'm just a dandelion lost in this greenhouse
surrounded by these blooming beauties.
But hoping, hopefully
you would make a wish out of me.
You've got this look that makes me crave adventure.
You've got mountains in your eyes
and the northern wind in your soul.
I can't remember the last thing you said to me
and that's okay.
We never talked much thanks to my anxiety.
I'm not too far but my words have failed me so many moons
how am I suppose to talk to you?
You've got your future gripped tight by the wrist
and my hands are lost in all this space.
Maybe sometime in the years to come, I'll discover your footprints
and remember my high school crush all over again.
I'll stop and think if you're out in California making coffee for people,
like I overheard you say you wanted to do in math class that one time,
or strumming a guitar solo on stage somewhere in the city.
I just hope wherever you find yourself in time to come you're happy and smiling brighter than the stars.
I know not much will happen in these last eight months we have together,
but I want to thank you for the day you introduced yourself to me because you knew no one else in the class.
I know I'm just a dandelion in this great big greenhouse,
but I'm just really happy that you noticed me.
2014
zebra Jun 2018
The great dialectic remains between fate and free will.
I'm prepared to defend the notion that fate has a bigger hand
Without seeing into the future we are unable to change it
The forms textures chiaroscuros and chromes are painted into each of us as we descend into the world soul
and discover we are not merely posing cameos  
directed by each other's projections

All souls are evocations,
layer upon layer of archetypes  
each of them
prayers and yogas
all irreducible fluctious desires

voluptuous nymph or curmudgeon
hero or *****

As depth accumulates
we give each thing a name
we live and unfurl destiny
both good and evil
This fate already forged into our souls.

Only in destinies weaving finality, 
even beyond the grave 
are we melted down like snow in divine rays
of effulgent light, and pure spirit
occult
rgz Feb 25
Maybe I'm overreacting
just to get a reaction
but I'm sick of you acting
like this never happened

I lied like before
this is your last chance
I'm halfway out the door
when I give in to a chast glance  

From the start this sad act was packed with backstabs
the track was trapped
the map hacked in half
partly cartographed with slack blackened hands
unplanned circumstances going hand in hand with  

this elaborate bachata amounting to nada
we had a
saga of unending drama
a sample of trauma
disaster for us is just par for the course and

Once more I'll lie
this is your last chance
as I struggle to pour some more sand in the cracked glass

I can't continue with this fight
there's no chance
I'm getting really tired of this spiteful slow dance
I'm soaping both hands
tying the rope at both ends
time's up
light's out on this trojan romance
I had some fun with the rhyme schemes here, I plan to revisit some of these

(for those who don't Google a bachata is a latin dance)
Desire Mar 18
Deliverance is not delusional.   No duhh!
Its definite, deliberate, and distinct,
and yours is long overdue!
Boo the damns and dooms.
Fight despite defeat.
Dance with victory.
Finally be free.

I dare you.
Discover divine deliverance
from within, down and deep...

[redeemed]

@desire.is.dope
20190318
0045HRS
DELIVERY
@desire.is.dope
Isaac Aug 2018
This world is happening around you,
but a snippet of it
is in your control.

No one else has access to it
like you do.

You've unlocked its password,
and you're in.

You made it into this universe,
this story.

Now, what are you waiting for?
Make the most of it!

Go discover this world you are in!
Written 5 August 2018

Your body is your connection with this world and your involvement in it.
EBTI Dec 2016
I am that strong girl
Who cares but, don't say
Who cries and feel the pain
Who acts mysterious but, she knows it's just a game
She thinks but, her thoughts are all over the place
She knows she is bigger but, still playing with those beginners what a waste!
She's been hurt so many times, now she doesn’t know where to begin in this race
Are they with us? Or are they our enemies?
But, now she knows them by the face
She gives what she needed the most
But, they don't know
She asks herself “do they really deserve it?”
every time she forgets herself
Yeah that girl, who questions every relationship she has
Like there's a lot of them ..
But when she give, she gives hard
Love hard, livs hard
She knows how much she is Beautiful
But does she ?
She always says it to herself
But is she really?
Because she got lost between the words she write
You know, it's the only way to express herself
She doesn’t  tell anybody if she was sad
She doesn't even cry
She just says “I hate the world”
Basic right?
But she says it in her own way
She says it with hope inside, she knows there is a better way, she got to discover it , but with out herself?
Oh darling what a sad story you have
But they don't know they judge you from the outside
But you are who you are and you don't care.
Girard Tournesol Nov 2018
Did Pythagoras create
      or discover his famous theorem?
A squared plus B squared equals C squared
       — For a perfectly right triangle —
If created, well done.  
        If discovered . . . say your prayers.
ConnectHook Oct 2017
HEAR YE HEAR YE
It's a wedding bell for bedding well cause' we're crushin' the illusion of Russian collusion! CNN wets on Russian bedding but Trump bets on Russian wedding, and you're invited to the bridal shower. Punking the monkery, dig the debunkery; from Rasputin to Putin it's time for some straight shootin'. Hillary looks old and glowers at Donald's rumored golden showers. Our media owes US an explanation for streams of steaming urination, but we are willing to forgive and use their wet diapers as debt wipers. My poem's appeal may take a toll, but let its little peal now roll:

******, ******
rings the bell
A Fake News warning; time to spell
out what was wet with Moscow girls.
Putin's putas ?  Wisdom's pearls
were pried from Truth's reluctant shell,
banishing Hillary straight to ****.
None. It's what we want left over
from this hag. We now discover
beds were dry; it all amounted
(all those golden tricks recounted)
to less than a tepid bowl of kasha. . .
Russia laughed from her summer dacha.
InfoWars was on it first
while Dems spun lies from false to worst,
awarding cash for faked dossiers
embellished with the CIA's
well-trained performing circus-seal.
The FBI endorsed the deal
as RINOS horned in on the action:
Washingtonian distraction;
a democrat-concocted fuss—

. . . but we ALL paid Hillary to **** on us.
TRUMP / PENCE 2020
**** on the Fake News !
HILLARY for PRISON
SUBVERT GLOBALISM.
Is it my body you wish to plant
Your flag & lay claim to
Looking for buried treasure
Hoping to unearth riches
Beyond your wildest imagination
Trying to discover what men before
You have failed to possess
Rummaging through what used
To be a Holy temple
A place of innocence
Unfortunately,those men before you
Stole every ounce of that
There is nothing left of me here...
I Am But A Hollow Shell
A Metophor Of A Woman Giving So Much While Men Take And Leave When They Get Bored,Leaving Her Feeling Worthless & Empty
Alyssa Underwood May 2016
Feelings, and feelings, and feelings. Let me try thinking instead. From the rational point of view, what new factor has H.’s death introduced into the problem of the universe? What grounds has it given me for doubting all that I believe? I knew already that these things, and worse, happened daily. I would have said that I had taken them into account. I had been warned—I had warned myself—not to reckon on worldly happiness. We were even promised sufferings. They were part of the program. We were even told, ‘Blessed are they that mourn,’ and I accepted it. I’ve got nothing that I hadn’t bargained for. Of course it is different when the thing happens to oneself, not to others, and in reality, not in imagination. Yes; but should it, for a sane man, make quite such a difference as this? No. And it wouldn’t for a man whose faith had been real faith and whose concern for other people’s sorrows had been real concern. The case is too plain. If my house has collapsed at one blow, that is because it was a house of cards. The faith which ‘took these things into account’ was not faith but imagination. The taking them into account was not real sympathy. If I had really cared, as I thought I did, about the sorrows of the world, I should not have been so overwhelmed when my own sorrow came. It has been an imaginary faith playing with innocuous counters labelled ‘Illness,’ ‘Pain,’ ‘Death,’ and ‘Loneliness.’ I thought I trusted the rope until it mattered to me whether it would bear me. Now it matters, and I find I didn’t.

Bridge-players tell me that there must be some money on the game ‘or else people won’t take it seriously.’ Apparently it’s like that. Your bid—for God or no God, for a good God or the Cosmic ******, for eternal life or nonentity—will not be serious if nothing much is staked on it. And you will never discover how serious it was until the stakes are raised horribly high, until you find that you are playing not for counters or for sixpences but for every penny you have in the world. Nothing less will shake a man—or at any rate a man like me—out of his merely verbal thinking and his merely notional beliefs. He has to be knocked silly before he comes to his senses. Only torture will bring out the truth. Only under torture does he discover it himself.

And I must surely admit—H. would have forced me to admit in a few passes—that, if my house was a house of cards, the sooner it was knocked down the better. And only suffering could do it...

                                                          ­                  ~ C.S. Lewis
jane taylor May 2016
a cerebral grasping of existence’s resplendence
is insufficient

tenuously treading bereavement’s tide
i cradle life

twinkling moments spent on this planet
are hallowed time

i walk in quiet reverence as tears flow
at innocuous occurrences

god’s face aglow in each instance
perspective revived

a bumblebee drifting gently settles
evoking awe

i stand pensive aforetime unaware
in cathedrals we stand

eyes newly uncovered awakened discover
celestial dimensions

people replete with infinite spirit
are all that surround

my senses abruptly adjusting their focus
‘tis an earthly angelic realm

©2016janetaylor
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