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MawaLin Dec 2018
There are parts of me that I am still learning to accept.
It's in the roots of my hair,
Embedded under my skin,
It darkness my knees,
On the bridge of my nose,
Rolls off my tongue
To the alignment of my toes.
And as I grow, they too grow with me.
Ozioma Ogbaji Apr 2015
As beautiful as the famed city of Atlantis
Gloriously flourishing in her perfection
There is a place where my soul and heart is
A perfect place without grief or deception

Where my heart is always merry
And peace blossoms like the cherry
The sun smiles at me gently caressing
My body as the birds sing melodies-
So beautiful they keep me guessing-
The beauty of future melodic memories

Like the Cedars of Lebanon
Beautifying the palaces of Ethiopia
Purity, love and perfection adorn her every season.
This place is within me; this place is Utopia
CK Baker Jan 2018
who lit the candles
placed eloquently
behind purple rock?
the sculpted radiance,
chapel grace
wound in a chosen
defined way
down the spiral
stone stairs

street cars dawdle
alongside
the packer slew
biding merchants
and frontmen
shuffle their wares
as the madman
and pock face
sing their
holy blues

cut jazz echoes
over the accompanying
gabble and drone
incense and haze
pour from
a lower trap door
sack fish, truffles
and splendid crafts shine
inside the stained glass fronts

a wide mouth snapper
with a bloated tongue
greets the
morning tide
(not camera shy
in the least!)
the fish traps
and beaneries
bring life
to the flourishing causeway

hula hoops
and ballers
join the
cobaine stage
favoured rogues
and mac jacks
speak easy
of the big daddy

beth’s triple by pass
taking firm hold on
tricky ****
and the nutcracker
maze ways,
taggers and
lost tunnels
of cu chi
strike a
nerving blow

a poised finger man
belts out his tune
(with a sniff sock
and iterating glare)
his nosey neighbors
cut artisan bread
(with a white wine
and jelly spread)
midwives push forward
for an afternoon
toddle and stroll
TheMystiqueTrail Sep 2018
Parallel lines do not meet.
Together they travel,
all through a lifetime
savouring the solitude
of each others company.

Intact they keep their uniqueness,
never crossing each other's path, giving space
to the other to bloom,
flourishing in each other’s company.

Parallel lines do not meet
when they meet, they die!
Railroads always fascinate me!
In lonely moments
I stroll the waning memories
when love pure smiled blissfully
deep within a fawning heart

a wistful melody arises untainted
like a steaming enslaved passion
                         breathlessly released
                              unrestrained,..

         ­                          evident
                    as the pressed and dried flowers
          cuddled between life's ardent petaled pages,
                         bookmarks of the heart

                         traces of the wild bouquets
                         that often soothingly caress’d
                         the energizing tingles  
                         inflaming a tantalizing touch

                         the yearning  empty voids
                         feverishly undressed,
                         traced in the hidden sands
                         of unexplored oceans..
                        
                         though time and distance
make the bereft heart grow helplessly fonder,
memories fade softly as the summer breeze befalls,
  
                         as gentle feather’d touch
                         the evanescent sunset afterglow
                         where the earth and sky align
                         the dimming of the day

         loving can heal
the poet’s bleeding words,
loving can mend your soul ―

                         the perennial dawning of an
                         unpromised new day
                         will someday come again

        bequeathed like the bluebird’s mirthful song
to bring forth nascent wild flowers’ blossoming petals
              flourishing in the meadow of my heart


                 *Someone you used to know
© March 2017
Thank you for reading
.
Jack Jenkins Jul 2016
Love is rarely ever found, (I found you)
Instead,
Love is built. (We've built so much)
Built with a solid foundation,
Built with a design in mind,
Built with strong materials,
Love is built with hard work. (Sweat and sacrifice)
with willingness to sacrifice,
to be hurt.
Upholding one another
at our worsts. (Our hearts are strong enough)

Love isn't taken, but grown, (We've grown together)
Starting as a seed.
Nurtured in the rains
and sunlight
of life.
Roots strong enough not
to be uprooted by fiends. (I'll never leave you)
Delicate and tenderly, slow and steady.
Flourishing branches (We have flourished)
upholding the weight of grown love. (We've grown together)
//On her//
If you know the meaning of the title, hat tip to you. ;)
Nathalie Nov 6
I could feel this
energizing peace
in the silence of
the room as
we both lay there
in each others arms
perfectly flourishing
in love

~Nathalie
Moonflower Oct 2016
I want to be so full of light
and so full of love
that I forget
every
single
time
I agonized over misfortune,

that I can feel my heart
swell with love for the people
who have mercilessly caused me pain-

the ones who have,

and the ones who will.

I wish to be so full of light
and forgiveness
that I may let go with grace;
that those who didn't know any better
may learn from my mistakes
and may be inspired by my growth,
by the love blossoming from my heart
and extending from my hands.
If every leaf I've turned was collected together into one massive pile,
I'd have an evergreen forest
flourishing with life.
Every mistake,
every challenge,
every heartache
was a learning experience.
All of this
was an experience.

So you've messed up,
so you've made a complete fool of yourself-
you are human,
forgive yourself.

Learn,

Grow.

Everything that has happened, from the moment your feet hit the floor in the morning,
to the minute you were late to work,
was meant to.

I promise,


it was meant to.
The days are dark and clouded
Stars fear to shine and the moon is dreaded
The pain in our heart too heavy to make us cry
The prophesy joy is still far off to force out a smile
Miracles are now very scarce and expensive to buy
The truth is too bitter and too unhealthy to lie
My once good friend which is hope is ready to die
No peace in heaven, no life in hell
Then where exactly lie our help
Since I have no horse I will use my leg
My pain is nobody is feeling my pain
since is better to pray than fait
I won't try to drop out in the school of life by suicide again
I will stand on holy grounds to fight for a better life in faith.

They say the tail is for the slaves so I dare to become the head
No matter how deadly the journey seems I still believe in a rosy end
Since the kingdom will come here, here I will righteously pitch my tent.
Let them keep throwing brimstones
Let them keep feeding my hunger for meat with stones
I seek for honey but sour limes and bitter leaf water they seek to drunk me with
They should keep turning my once soft paths to thorns
But I know they can't eclipse my glory it will keep glowing
I'm like a palm fruit, no matter the harsh weather they might bring I will keep flourishing
I'm like age, no matter the obstacles they might set I will keep growing
For I'm a destiny child, destined to move from glory to glory.
MOHAMED Mar 2018
Before his teen age
turns the pages he dies
a life through years
of neglect for the frail
bony frame drowsy feet
dark sunken eyes
wandering the street
craving white pure
pleasures and dreams
sores moon crater arms
tributaries of ****
star marks parched skin
dry bloodied screams
of glorious pills injecting
intoxicated stuffs
forbidden fruits
trappings of worldly heaven
addictive octane ecstasy
tiger terminator of
a young man flourishing
now depleted sad
youth corrupted by a love
pursued but lost
eyes vacant trailed tears
pleading please forgive
me mom and dad
A life lost through drug addiction.
Anya Mar 2018
Golden fields
Welcome tender breeze
Gaze withdrawn
To these grainy seas
Love cannot wake
To the sun at your door
Of golden fields
Not to sway anymore
Listen not
To sounds of earth
No bells or cries
Or the worlds sweet mirth
Children roam
with one voice late
And fields of gold
Beyond choice or fate
Above mountains and rivers
Of bright flourishing rye
Soon we all need
Someone to kiss us goodbye
Najla 5d
There used to be butterflies
living inside my chest,

but they turned into bats
when it got dark

The bats fed on my blood,
and my chest was their cave

There used to be orchids
blooming,
flourishing,
above my ears and to my hair

But now I am dead,
the weeping orchids bled

As it withered upon my grave,
and emitted the scent of death and I

Its decayed petals dropped
like blood from cut veins

The corpse flower,
scentless bloom of death belongs
I want orchids not death
Born of Fire Jun 2014
The violet sky stood bashful against the dimming horizon. Stark trees sprang from the ground, flourishing in dots midst the blushing stars.

Street lights flicker on, reminding me of how mom didn't have to yell for me to come home, the lights whispered it to me, carried in the caressing breeze.

I'm reminded in the spring, of the day me and my friend ran into the pelting rain and jumped through puddles, soaking our bodies in high pitched laughter and impending colds.

I'm always reminded in the summer months, how everyone including myself, preferred water from the hose over water from the tap. Or how we'd run rampant through the field behind my house, screaming against the heat.

The broken sidewalk reminds me of the time when we all thought we were cool for trying to smoke cigarettes we stole from our parents.

I fell in love with patches of clovers more than that of a boy's selfish smile. I was more in love with the act of collecting lady bugs as pets rather than holding a hand pushed into mud.

I preferred shallow swimming pools over the small voice of a boy asking me if i had other friends like them. Or how the beam of the sun was better than the beam of a slender, pale face with blue eyes.

Blind and innocent children, we fell in love with things we could touch or splash in. We fell in love with the beautiful colors and characters in our favorite Saturday morning cartoons. When we weren't playing cops and robbers, we were lost in a world of SEGA and Super Nintendo 64. We were infatuated with a world that never altered, but our vision cleared of.

We were saturated in a time where our only big worry was making sure we got our recess time. And when the smog cleared we realized our biggest worry was making our parents proud.
And it seems that it should be the other way. We should be proud of the kid our parents raised.
But ultimately, the monsters under our beds became the demons in our heads.
And the kid your parents raised
slowly became the kid you wish your parents never had.

There won't be a day in my life where i wish i could fall in love with the sound of an ice cream truck, or the animals at the end of my bed again.
Amelia Robin Oct 2018
They say you only live once
so cliché as it may sound
But do make the most out of it
as you live your life
Do it according to your own parameters
No need to compare it with others.

For as long as you decide for your sake
Never hesitate to figure things out on your own
When you set your pace of living your dreams
You will never have to worry.

Happiness and success are two interlinking entities
Having both is a blessing
But flourishing in every circumstances you encounter is way more than pleasing.

And as you only live once,
Maybe you can always try to do something to forget than to regret later on.
Planejane2 Dec 2018
Sometime I wonder what you saw in me and why..
When you decided to hmu in my dm and say hi
Did you glance at my pictures and see the hurt in my eyes?
Because when you saw them in person, you decided to stay...
Through the tears, the anger, you never strayed away.
The insecurities, the infidelity, you never were ashamed.
Sometimes you'd have me up at night just wondering if...
If I had never decided to respond back
If I never decided to share that hurt with you
If I never decided to share the **** truth with you
If I never loved you...
Would you love me fragile, weak, and meek-
Sprouting, Blooming, Flourishing
Striving, Thriving, Aligning
Would you love me in every way? Everyday?
melissa rose Jan 2018
Those eyes
a window to the soul, to it all
I am fixated
with just one glance

               Such a blissful place.

Unconditional belonging
with creation expressed
from the face of innocence
Love is flourishing
                
               I long to flourish.

A heart wide open sings
the composition a perfect symphony
Whimsical
Feeding the soul with pure delight

               Feed me.

These eyes
remember it well
and when I surrender to
the face of innocence

                 I will be whole.
1/22/18
RBWhite Jul 2018
I loved it how you move in me,
I love it how you touch me,
My only,
When we're done,
I do believe,God is a Woman,
I feel it in the moonlight,
I can't fight my feelings,
When you say and do,
I do believe,God is a Woman,
In a one time space,
You keep on flourishing,
When its not how it should be for me,
Between your lungs,I see all I need,
I should know what I can't,
Whenever feelings get in my hands,
It will only take your blessing to save my saying,
And believe,that God is A Woman,
In your warmth, I find my light,
My will for sins will save me from loosing,
God is in you,
God is in my one,
God is in your lungs,
Its within your dissolve,
I believe,indeed,
God is a Woman.
Ariana Grande deserves the recognition she is getting. And I declare my life to be in favor of all the women who feel less than they are. Love and passion will always win. Don't ******* give the **** up!!!
Blind Distance Jun 2015
They flew away. Far, far from the present, out to the blue ocean.

They seem happy now.

A long journey has ended. Maybe you know this tale.

It started with a thunder. A white flash, striking into the ground.

The earth was shaking, it had the power of Creation.

People would whisper in fear, they could not have understood.

This day, Stars were born. Bright, bright wonders.

The Earth slowly began shifting, its shape bending and aching.

A new world was about to be born.

It was from this moment, that they could commence flourishing.

They needed light, soil, and heat.

From the instance the second one evolved out of the first, they started working;

Day and night, sewing small fractions of energy, intertwining their thoughts all the while.

With increasing harmony their efficiency multiplied.

When the time has come, the timber sufficed to set sail.

Out into the darkness. Warm, heavy smells, flesh on flesh.

The stars shone brighter than ever.

The impulses left burning marks behind. Trees, flowers and feathers spread out in the meadows.

Leaping into the water again and again. Drowning in the sensation.

Roots were growing deep into this young soil, they were satisfied.

The horizon was melting into the sky. People would become terrified.

The more time passed, the more the water thickened.

They stopped feeling the chills in their spines; their limbs would go numb.

Sinking slowly into their Art, the fire turned into smoke.

Tranquility. Trust. Hope.

Years have gone by.

From afar, a strange sound shook the waves.

Stars, again, became visible above the mirrors.

People would not see them anymore.

Suddenly, something akin to a cocoon, cracked open and revealed an Object. It was solid and cold.

When they looked around, they could not find what they needed.

No light, no soil, no heat.

They were free to go.

So they did.

Would you have seen their wings, you would have mistaken them for the wind.

Disbanding into nothing.

Only a few marks have been left behind.

People would walk on the ground were the lightning hit.

They are happy now.
A tale of Nature.
Rachel Rode May 2018
Sun kissed

Golden goddess

Power emitting from her hands

An angel without religion

A beauty too deep to consume

Flourishing from within

Happiness can be found here

Distance does not break  

A bond without pressure

An eternal passionate affair

Gentle yet boisterous shared laughter

Hours pass in minutes

Weeks pass in days

A lover without romance

That cannot be replaced
Venus in Scorpio Sep 2018
This plant,
I’ve forgotten to water it
It’s soil dry as bone
I examine the branches to find
New leaves grown on all three
This tree
Is expanding and flourishing even in the midst of a drought
I ask then
Why can't we without?
All birds of my heart were high in sudden curved of the azure sky where Enthusiasm and happiness flourishing directly in the magnificent immigration through
dance of wind and wine.  
Swirling
and
Swirling
From north to south.  
showing amazing absolutely, by exposing colorful long tails
from earth to clouds where human’s eyes rarely can magnify
How far? …
Don’t remember exactly
It was fire, water or turbidity dust of shapeless tornado in
unexpected curved of the grey road
that
All birds of my heart …all birds of one type
suddenly lost.
I...
Reluctant, morbid…feeling false
I…
in hours extend in duration of long time burn the  expectations
as outcome,
waiting for
magnificent immigration may return them to their nest, on top of my heart.    
maybe they die, maybe go far…
nurturing and nourishing them a lot,
how is it possible to stay without birds of height?
while
“Maybes” …has never grown any flower in any dust.
while
   while...
the next immigration is not so far
… birdies…
Shall I see you again in the realm of my emotional yard?
Ghazale#Ebrahimzade#
Muharram 2017 #(Ashoura Night)#
Najla Jul 13
A rotten skull
wired to feel melancholy

A nightmare self
that only saw freedom
at the tip of a kitchen knife
isolated from this life

A mind
with death plants
flourishing inside it

A garden of Angel's Trumpet
abloom with a deadly touch
recherché but poisonous

One of Azrael’s early visitors
I’m now a flower in his graveyard
Ode to Azrael
―Go Forth
Flourish in The Light
Of The
Estival Sol,
Elysium of the Soul,
Once you have vanquished
The Stygian,
Your Soul
Awaits You―


~I bid you
Immortal Heartsease
And
Armistice of Ataraxia:
The Reverberation of our Souls
In the Key of Elysium~.





I. Archean Prelude

The echoes
of your
Memories of
The Light & Airwaves
Pine to
Bloom in Reminiscence
Over the
Days of Yore.


II. The Echoes of Existentiality

We are all atomic particles;
Molecular Particles,
Of an aromatic
Omniscient,
Omnipotent,
Omnipresent Mist:
The Cosmo-Plexus of Empyreal Love

―Echo forth comrades―

~Evanesce,
Into the Empyrean,
Etherealized Lightscape
Until the
Visage of Creation
Enskies us
To the exalted
El Dorado~



II. Tempus Fugit

The Promise
Of the
Morrow
Is nigh:

The Yesteryears
Wax
Distant Ages,
Wax
Archean Aeons;

(Eventuality of Existence)

Our Bygone Days
Of Lovelit, Loveless Life,
Antiquate and
Our Soulwaves
Wax
The Spirit of
The Ancient of Days.


III. Nova Cosmogony

Betwixt the Realms
Of the
Beneficent Matriarch Mirror,
Beyond
Terraqueous Gaia
Unfurls the Vista,
Your Fulgurant Dreamscape:

Only the Sapient of Sages
Doth denude:

The Incorporeal Incarnation
Of
Virtue, it’s vesture,
Na’phesh

The Decrepitude of Withering
Dovens the Divine
In the
Vestibule of Vanity,
Sanctimony & Superciliousness
Thence deliquesce;
Bearing womb of Light.

IV. Celestial Morphology

Unveiling the Substance
Of Space and Time;
Spirit and Soul;
Euphony, Harmony;
Atrophy, Intrepidity
All are Entity

Once
Pristine yet vacuous,
Flourishing into
Mystical and shimmering
Nothingness, gropes
For Meta-Astral ―form;

Ventus Divinitas,
The Cosmogonist’s Agenda
Resonates
Through the
Inchoative Universe.

V. The Temporal Hither:

Her Genesis
Waxeth
Vestal Vicissitudes:

She is
The Twilit Quiver
Uprising in
Darts of the Dawn,

Until
Arrows of Antemeridian
Light Cascade
Our epidermis
With the incendiary
Sovereignty of Sol.

Dusk:
Chars the Canvas
Of Ethereal Skies,
Garnetiferous,
Moonlit, Martyred Mind’s Sky;
The Eve’s Imperator
And
Inquisitive Spirit Eyes.

By Luminaries
We’re ensorcelled
Corpulent with thought.

~Wondering upon,
Vacuous a fathomed
Cosmogenesis. ~



VI. Tempus et Spatium:


~There are
Edicts unseen
The Esoteric of the Macrocosm

Only the
Transcendent of Tellurians
May tell of
The Life-Rending,
Sunder forth:

Semantics in Constellations;
Gaian Whispers of Sylvan Tale
The Arboreal Wisdom,
Musicality in Zephyrs ruffling Trees of Vale
Hearken unto further
The Winged-Symphonic Bees
(The Bombinating Orchestra)
Soul Untethered = [ Meta-Consciousness ^ Spiritus de Liberty]

Einstein’s General Relativity= [Spatium ^ Matter ↔ Energy ^ Motion]

~

(Time & Space
The height,
The width,
The depth,
And
The breadth)
The Empyrean One
Enshrined in Pantheon
Our Virginal, Vestal Souls
Efflorescent Eternity
In our hearts?
(Ecclesiastes 3:11)

Time is fickle
A
Hydrean Leviathan:

Whilst ye
Voyage her
Seven Seas,
Moor naught
In her
Elapsed chronology;
Her caprice
And ire
Shalt not
Be quelled.

Be roused
From
Somnus,
Unto her
Perpetuity of
Aqueous Abyssal, Dream Deep Sea;
Tenuous,
Diaphanous,
Rare,
Tender,
Instinctive,

∞ Her Moments ∞
∞ Extinguished ∞
∞ At Birth. ∞

∞ Eternally, ∞
∞ Reincarnated; ∞
∞Anew.∞

∞The Cosmic Spectrum∞
∞Is Infinite∞

∞Excelsior, Godspeed∞

∞ Elo’him ∞





VII. Ultima Thule:

We
Empyrean souls,
Doth abide
In
Pearlescent raiment.

The Cosmogenesis is our Dreamscape:
.
We are all a cosmos,
Expanding, contracting;
Ebbing, flowing;
Hitherto and thitherto;
Red-Shift and Blue-Shift.

Until the Mellifluous Morn,
Whence the
Zephyr of Life
Reverberates the Musicality
Of The
Arboreal Sages.

Terraqueous Gaia
Whispers
The Hope of the Ages.
Spirits betwixt
Greater Eden and She’ol.

Count the stars,
Enumerate every
Constellation in The Cosmos
Of your Soulscape scintillating
Upon thine Mind’s Sky.

Whence Luna and Sol
By the Wisdom
Of your starlight.
Are benighted, beseech
The Ancient of Days

For within The Supernal Wavelength
Of the Hallowed Dove.
We glean refuge
Our Aegis,
Providence.

Awaiting the
Golden, incendiary pinions
Of the
Revenant Phoenix to resurrect us.
Allow the Holy Spirit
to be your Polaris,
― to Elysium.

~By Agape’s Armistice:
Ascend,
The Peaks of Heartsease.
Commune with the Cosmos,
Wax
Salvera y Jiustizia
Brethren,
I plead.~”


~This Sacred Lotus seed
Was sown
Into the
Into the Soil of your Souls
, ―By the Astral.

You are a melody,
Sung by
A coloratura,
Burst into a
Tapestry of Fioritura:

Of Hope,
Faith,
And
Love



(May you
Reap
The Virtues of the Lord)

Betwixt

Na’phesh,
(The [Your] Living Soul)

&

Kos’Mos’
(The World)

The Apotheosis of the Astral Flame
Awaits
You
Starry-Eyed
Phantasmagoreans~
Celestial Morphology © is the multi-epistled poem which I sired during the Estival vicissitude. Twas an ineffable cadenza that exhales of the incorporeal essence of mine entity. I had been toiling in sweat, blood, and tears over a written project at the time; consequently, this is the thematic poem begotten.
     It transmutes the zeitgeist of my summer into the Golden Raiment of Polymathy. The oppressed coals of my woe erupted from the igneous core of my heart as these adamantine words. This starry soundscape is the astral crux of my work during 2018.
      I think that there was a vast expanse of my understanding of the world that had been repressed. It had almost been veiled from the heightened sight of my Over-Soul. This was in my sheltered, infantile longing to elude heartache. To keep the flesh- sundering maladies of the world outside my apartment walls: love, passion, iniquity, penitence, forgiveness, piety, cultural fission, intolerance, injustice, indignation, divinity, melody, mysticism, schism, mania, trepidation, faith, wisdom, darkness, and temporally transcendent pain.
          This was my transcribed anarchy against a Fascist Regime. A country exalting body that calls its denizens creationists whilst they slaughter every creation under the sun. The sociological edicts that dictate how art should be produced, the pace, that tell us not to speak of discrimination and mold us to turn a blind eye to the harsh realities of 21st-century postmodern society heavied the air. I just needed to vent and let every bit of internalized asperity or self-directed hatred out in a beautifying paradigm.
      I'm realizing more and more that life is tough and quite frankly, short. I'd rather write for an infinitude on one poem, for the sake of saving myself, rather than compromising my own integrity (and creative latitude). The writing was becoming a drag: less about quality, and more about quantity. Thus, after months of phantasmagorical drought, I bestow a glistening glade of sterling words.
I hope this poem reverberates upon thine soul waves. Please comment as I am open to any feedback; moreover, I beseech it of thee. My deepest gratitude comrades.

Excelsior Forevermore,

Sanders Maurice Foulke III
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