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DivineDao May 2016
The cloud that    arises
A luminous
Expression

By You
Presence   of     Awareness

Snowflakes  
Patterns

Crystals

Map  to  Metatron
Map­   to      Sandalfon

Send
Thru
Samsara

The
Angel  of        Love
writerReader May 2015
sometimes i want to know how it is
to burn and
freeze
and feel heartbreak
and hope
but sometimes i just want chocolate
which is almost that
I think
Leal Knowone Sep 2017
Tears flow down her face.
Agony from recent past, she clings to like a drowning body floating at sea.
Useless debris.
There's a taste of  duality in all things.
A sorrow reality can bring.  
Though this is a mere moment in time it seems like it is everything. How does one gauge pain if it is something we hope not to be remembering?

She lets herself became jaded, a heart slowly turning to stone. Heading down a path she lets herself believe she knows.
She lets herself believe she knows all there is to know.
If she takes a wrong turn there could be more suffering, or more joy then she would have otherwise know.
Who really knows which way to go?
Choices
Isaac Aug 2018
People trying to find
themselves in a lost mankind.

Grasping for money and fame,
not knowing what is the aim.

Hoping for a day
when worries will be washed away.

While Jesus knocks on our door,
waiting to heal our world at war.
Written 2 August 2018
Azurel Jul 2018
You call me
She, Her, Daughter, Girl
Shhhhh...
You speak with a blind mouth,
Look at me, see me
She isn't me,
Only a fantasy that you clutch till your knuckles grow pale.
I am not broken, I am free
But you hide behind a veil
Afraid to finally let go of...

Long hair, Lipstick, Lace dress
You question each time I show you my truth,
"Are you trying to hide your femininity?"
No, my femininity is simply not my definition.
Spend a day in my skin, in my cage,
And don't cry when the words start to pierce you like daggers,
Shhhh... Stay silent, don't worry, it's just a phase.
Now do you see that "She" just doesn't make sense?
You speak to me but your voice seems distant,
Bouncing off of me and echoing
Like I am the hollow statue of the girl you used to see.
"I am right in front of you, you know"
But my words are only heard when they come from her lips.
Do you see me now?

Mother, Children, Wife, Woman
A silent prayer each night for all the things I am not,
Stomach swollen, hair to my waist
The glow of an expecting mother on my face.
Curves, not edges,
Pink, not blue.
Delicate hands grasping the man who stands in my place.
Do you see me now?


Pants swollen, hair to my brow,
Along my jaw,
Down my legs,
Sprouting from my toes.
Do you see me now?
Bulged, Buzzed, Boy
Blood on my sheets, not between my legs
Stained by the girl who lies in her place
Fresh coat of gel and cologne,
Swirls of shaving cream.
Bare chest, Burning skin
Twitch of an Adam's apple when breath comes short,
Nervous fidgets with a tie,
tick tock,
"Pick me up at eight"
"Treat her right" "I will sir"
"Will you be my..."
"You're going to be a father!"
"You are the best daughter we could have asked for"
...."Son" I whispered.
But you didn't hear,
Please tell me
Do you see me now?
Any one who can relate to this but can’t say it, I hope I can be your voice.
Copycat, collect the nectar,
it will optimize your splendor.
Grasping it by the gallons,
drinking poison, immune, callous,
to the pain you aligned, and profusely measured.

Fixated on this peeling label,
bend it back, are you able,
To contain symptoms as they surface?
Written down as toxic in cursive,
a sign of recovery crowned as 'fatal'

Copycat, take your weapons,
along the speckled crimson as logical 'sessions'.
Brim the shell, or remain hollow?
Graphic truth is hard to swallow,
unseen pain is being reflected-
All feedback is welcome and appreciated!
I wanted to do some form of rhyming, but the emotion had to stay so I know the poem is a little odd.
Alice Wilde Jul 2018
She was born of a forest
And rests her heart  
Shallow in pooled dreams
Dripping further than her tears
Falling to soft earth.

She eats rosed lilies
And pickled cattails
All while
Her footsteps leave no absence known
As her lithe nymph body melts into foliage.

And her arms permanently reach
Into the void of
All unknowable things.
Grasping at gossamer threads,
Like thoughts that can't be spun together.
Kevin J Taylor Nov 2015
Pretend a moment that you’re me
and write a poem I might see.
Pretend a moment that you’re me.

Pretend a moment that I’m you.
Pretend I read your poem through.
Pretend what happens when I do.
Are you pretending? Good. Me too.

Pretend the poem tells a tale
of wooden ships with painted sails.
Pretend the sky, the salty breeze,
the creak of decks, the swelling seas,
the cutlass singing past your ear!
Quick! Pretend us out of here!

Pretend the road. Pretend the trees,
the horse between your grasping knees,
the flashing river at your side—
Ride neck and neck with hounds from Hell!
Pretend, at least, we live to tell!

Pretend the West, the dust, the gold.
Pretend the sleeve. The ace it holds.
Pretend the six-guns drawn at noon!
Pretend we’re somewhere else! And soon!

Pretend the sky, the sunset sea.
Pretend the dunes, the grass, a tree.
Pretend you’re walking there with me.
Pretend the gulls that dot the swells.
Pretend the tales tomorrows tell.

Shall we pretend
eternity?
Shall we pretend
to dream?
.
Not all poems survive. I've lost a few and let others go. My current collection of poems is available on Kindle and in paperback. It is called "3201 e's" (that is approximately how many e's are in the manuscript which is a very unpoetic title but a reflection on the creation of poetry by common means.)
if i
had one more to say
while you had to leave
would you stay
would you listen to me,
because some days
seem to agree
that some days
resonate deeply
with
me.
so
if i
had one more to say
would you stay
would you say its okay
or
would
you
walk
away.
would
you
walk
away?

- it's true
you asked me to stay
but, hey
tomorrow will be better
it better be great!
because
how bad can it get,
this must be the worst
the most hurt

yet-

- please don't mind
i wont be staying here
i have much too much to stay this near
to your fear-
-don't
you
understand
this is more
than
what you could demand-

-im too tired
to listen right now
i have a few things to attend to
to lend my time spent to
to speed and pay rent to
to pitch up my tent to
to try to amend to
to play pretend to
to follow and swallow and digest inside
to batter and barter and leave all behind!
So listen to me
I don't listen to you!
Won't you hear that I have not much time!
So keep your thoughts away!
And have a good day!
Because there's problems I have that are mine!


im not near you
i can't hear anyone
so could a whisper be sputtered from
somebody's
cold lips?
maybe felt from a cold kiss?
im not near you
i can't hear anyone
so could a word be formed,
killed, buried, reborn,
and let the storm of talk
reach my heart?
for it's lonely
am i the only
one
left
on
this

mountain?

it's lonely.

am
i
the
only
one
left
to
hold
me
closely?
MJL Mar 9
I’m here
No party
Who’s ****?
I'm not afraid
Everything’s primitive
New baby’s old
Suckling eternity
Carrying his mother
Teaching her father
A universe of historic shame
Threatening
The expanse of senseless
Intolerance
Grasping ignorance by the pores
Infant nails dig in and hold
Evolutions face of madness
Bloodshot
Biding a soiled fate
Biting for more
Sanity
Growing until -ism’s explode
Tears that crave change
Go forward
Moon Star Traveler
Be you
Be here with me
Recede against hate
Be one with the human race
Be one with the universe
Each generation brings us a step forward to ending intolerance.
Left Foot Poet May 2015
for Tascha

deep in the pond of unhappy, swimming,
drowning the next contemporaneous
depression thought quickly swallowed,
desperation in quick glances everywhere,
dawn is no consolation but just another
daily drawing tighter of twine cutting
disillusionment


dear god, commences every thought,
delayed answers have yet to arrive,
**** the deity's non-responsivness,
dare not say out loud lest,
deserved fates be worse, be realized,
didn't know? how can that be?
disguiser par excellent, I am the original
deceiver

But I never think about

death or dying, for that would be
defeat finale, a statute to, a status of none, a
destiny some wick spark, still insists can be
deferred

differed always,
diffidently, but grasping yet at the
double entendre that is my
dark vision of a future already past

May 2015
may 2015, back when I could write...
Tossing back tequila shots
To burn on down to blackened thoughts
Why am I unable to cast aside my old emotions?

While flecks of darker memories
Pollute the air in front of me
Never would I even wish erasure
Of the thoughts I've spoken

Maybe I'll just keep on clinging
Hum along with heifer's singing
Crowning list of weaknesses
Is failure to let go

Bob my head, alone, in silence
Midnight flight with no co-pilot
Fearful of the landing
Better shout 'Look Out Below'

Just play my music louder
While I stop to burn the flowers
And I shed my old remembrances
Like caterpillar's skin

Shreds of life streak by in flashes,
Must adjust my rose-hued glasses
Rub my tired, dried out eyes
To block the light and look within
NoctOwl Nov 2018
There she is
Beautiful, as always
The one who left
The woman who abandoned me

Here I am
Panicking
Trembling
Grasping for air

And in that split moment
I ask myself
If Love were in my situation,
What would Love do?
Love suffers long and is kind; love does not envy; love does not parade itself, is not puffed up; does not behave rudely, does not seek its own, is not provoked, thinks no evil; does not rejoice in iniquity, but rejoices in the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails.
Puissant piquant and predatory
And observant from afar
He looks down on your slumber
Like a door that's left ajar

Plying with his manly vice
A reckless male visage
A rogue of masculine device
Seeks entrance to your mind

He saunters with a swagger
A macho savvy moxie
To personify virility's incarnate
His dream zone's metier

He sifts your ****** entourage
In search of sprawls recumbence
To tantalize climactic fervor
With lambent photic scenes

Grasping at your revelries
He spies the wanton lust
With swanky strut appealing
Your primal urge to sate

He leaves undone resistance
With innate resilience seized
The lavish wayward implications
Of unrequited livid deeds

Like passion's lurid lecheries
An insatiable torrid sooth
You wrestle with his adamance
Your  carnal ecstasies revealed

You pounce on his exsertion
You splay your agile form
wriggling like a supple nymph
You accept his blatant storm

You writhe in your abandon
In a euphoric supplication
His machismo ****** enveloping
Your wildest latent needs

With no regrets or reticence
you awaken from this dream
To find yourself alone again
Like it had never been
I of we all create our own incubi and succubi and we should pay attention to their parameters.  Nothing like a philanthropic Incubus.
karin naude Nov 2013
i am known by many descriptive names
daughter, friend, colleague, cousin, niece, aunt, and fellow Christian
but none give a preview of my soul
i myself do not know, brain washed by conformity
constantly seeking my missing parts
its like completing a challenging puzzle not knowing the complete image
blind thumbs in the mist and dark
grasping on to believe, " there must be something out there"
Racquel Davis Jul 2014
In a dream,
Or a nightmare,
Everything seems            out           of                           place.
Things start out right,
And then,
                                    You’re dropped into an ocean.
               You’re naked and drowning,
          Sleeping and awake.
        Slipping away into a panic,
     Floating on a wave of  d i s c o n n e c t.
Grasping for anything,
     You hold on to thin air.
Feeling good with just that,
                                     The darkness grabs your s
                                                               ­                          e
                                     ­                                                     n
                                                               ­                             s
                                                               ­                              e
                                 ­                                                              s.
­Gaining visual on your position,
You swim a short mile.
      Lost with no vision,
You look outside yourself a while.
Your view from up above,
     The ocean seemed to move.
      God knows how long it has been
Below,
       The water blackens.
               You lose faith,    
                                                                ­    The darkness wins again.

©Copyright 2014 Written and Edited by Racquel Davis
edited 11/23/16
William Eberlein Feb 2013
Would that I could love you again.
Comparable to the moment we traded glances.

Ever knowledgeable to know,
that wishing cannot save me now.
Just like it never had.

Harder still,
to bear the weight of letting go.

Wanting all I can with both hands.
Like grasping smoke to a similar consequence.

The rest will be of ash and dust;
I will breathe nothing so lovely again.
hand
grasping other
has-been hands
life
I'll split galaxies
they break
cherry lips
dead men
(redemption)
def leopard
dead-- beats
&
radishes
hovering
out of life
&
in
to
purgatorial
dreams
of
****
death
(bare--
skeleton)
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
Lara Volkova Jun 2015
Grasping eternity by the neck in tremor
causing my insides to rot.
Too cold to replace my teeth
afraid to wrap my legs in sweets.
Caffeine induced dreams to replenish my cells
with gold or brass,
eyes wide open but my inmate's asleep
Don’t remember the reason behind this piece but I think of it often trying to find it.
Jesse stillwater Apr 2018
The woman in the window
  Looks out beyond the glass
Beyond the reach of her whispers
  Befogged upon windowpanes glance

Farther  than  the  bounds
  Her own breathe imbues
Out of reach her long fingered touch
  Tracing her murmurs on looking glass dew
Grasping for the shadowed artifacts
  Only time does nonchalantly drift past

Perched alone upon a cloud of silence
  Her thoughts eddy in soundless swirl
Spinning like dizzying shadows
  Swallowed by a thirst for light

The other side of window beckons
  Only she knows she’s looking out through a sigh;
Seeing no one familiar looking back ―  
  For what hidden jewels within abide

She dreams of dancing leafless by daylight
  Twirling beneath the whispering willows sway
Just a step away from being free
  Just a step away from feeling alive

With first step beyond imprisoning hesitation
  Crossing over the threshold of a dream
Through a liberating portal outside the glass
  Just on the other side of the windowsill ...


                  Jesse e Stillwater
13th  April  2018
Scheherazade Jul 2013
Whistle while I die
And keep your head high
Cause you were always good
At untimely jokes

Touch my skin
The way the flames lick the chimney
Burning into me with a simple stroke

Make me crawl back to you
The way you always do
Helping me forget who I am

Numb my mind
By getting me high
And let the devil play with my eyes

Keep on grasping
I'll continue to choke
As long as you love me
You can be my rope
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