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Smoke Scribe Aug 2018
Imagine that
I could write a salve,
compose an ointment of verbal herbs to heal,
even mere protect the already-torn-so-easy mental flesh,
just to disguise/hide the multi-colored bruising our
fickle mistress-in-common provides when you are down so far
another bruise joining the cast like a  floodplain subsuming one more feeding creek bed into the shapelessness of indistinguishability

imagine that

where atoms hide eternal between creation and destruction,
borrow brief the set exact you require to restore the taken years
from fathers/mothers/brothers/sisters,
children,
return that which went unused by the uninvited, unseemly human whim of war and lies for no gain

imagine that

the deep sinkhole of despair that ***** one in, years in the formation, appearing in instance, and worse does not drowns but leaves helpless, unable to climb out, and all our scratching digs us in deeper until we cannot be, seen or heard or just be

imagine that

a check comes in the mail, payable left open for filling-in,
in the amount of full restoration, with no additional fees of guilt needed for deposit and cashing/caching out: and you wake up
and the stony chest is breathing lungs free

imagine that

and I do; for I am the smoke of return and rest, sky inscribing,
knowing precise needs and the screams and the years unfair taken,
they are screened through the five perceptions, and the word weaver
set the loom for each peculiar requisition, no imagination needed

imagine that

you lament and anger demand verifiable proofs mathematical,
cursing the knights of false hopes with untethered regret

I do not imagine that; hear it and accept; my task, imagine that, making you imagine that, thus commencement of repair begins
when

we imagine that

for this how new healthy cells  are born

quiet-now,  go, imagine-that, now
if you recognize yourself within, it is no accident
Ma Cherie Mar 2017
I have so many musings
my hands they are complaining,
cuz I can't get them all right,
an so quickly jot them down,

An I feel that I'm connected,
to all my friends and my dear neighbors
an all that I can hear is just is that sound!

Of sweet snowflakes as they're falling,
in the silence sweet n pure,
an so softly as I hear them,
touch the ground,

An soon I'll imagine,
oh a winter wonderland,
in a covering in all you see around,

Those lovely floating wisps,
are so intricate-amazing
those parachuting sprites,
here they abound!

If you ever catch one close up,
well you really really oughta,
cuz the labyrinthine in sight
it will astound!

They are happy little ships afloat,
with an octagonal shape,
landing on all  life,
once sorely browned,

Every child and adult,
is now looking up in awe,
as there smiles turning up ,
instead of frowned!

I thought that I was lost,
an I'd never get to see,

but in poetry it seems-
that  I am found!

Ma Cherie © 2017
Happy poetry! Yeah!?  Lol ; ) ❤❤❤ hope you are all well!
Cress Rosario Jun 2014
I used to draw an angel when I was young
Imagining that she was flying so high
A little girl with wings same as hers
Following the angel everywhere
The little girl keeps on flying
Quickly, eagerly, ambitiously
A strong wind strikes the girl
Causing her to nearly fell

She looked where the angel was
She sees nothing but dust
From dust is a shadow of a bird
A sweet soft voice speaks in her head
"Don't cry, just keep on trying,
Fly high, soar high, don't stop on dreaming."
The girl got the urge flying back to the sky
The angel flew with her with pleasing smile

As I look closely on my drawing
I was the little girl, wandering
Infront was the graceful angel
Telling me not to stop flying
Ron Gavalik May 2018
Sometimes I think I love best
from afar,
observing impossible conquests
from behind crowds
of maniacs on sidewalks.
Sometimes I love through written notes
to people in far away places.
When up close, reality stops
the imaginings.
I dream of far better love
than I live.

-Ron Gavalik
Hillary Magee Feb 2017
If someone had
Told me you'd be
Relegated to the past tense
I would have laughed

Because I'm good at that

But you really have
Moved on

I am still living
I am still loving

But you are not here


Imagine that
Ayesha Aug 2016
The smell of flowers, as I see my finger tips touching the very top of the flower forest. It's almost Spring - Oh, how will the flowers all bloom and blossom.
CAN YOU IMAGINE MY HAPPY PLACE???
The beach!!!! As I step foot onto the soft soothing sand. The sound of waves - exactly what the soul needs.
Sunglasses on my face.. The view of the sun... As I feel the fantasy of a happy place.
And can you picture the trees in Spring? mmm..
CAN YOU FEEL SPRING?... Oh how I love this feeling.
By A_Jai
Relax, begin to Imagine you are in the proximity
to immerse yourself into a precious moment.
It is that needed time you have brought into being,
and is intrinsic to experience composure, equanimity.
Smooth melodic ambient music with simple cause,
low and soft will, in its incipiency invalidate
trending previous troublesome thoughts,
silkily, sauntering, lingeringly pauses...
to softly embrace your audible senses
with silence which conveys complete assurance,
that the here and now is yours, no-one elses,
ataraxia created by you, for your true inner self,
It continues; envelops remaining unsettled interruption,
embraces the heart, and encourages serenity,
all the remaining negative, solicitous intellection
are temporarily, tipped out of your consciousness,
you are experiencing them leave, then transcended
with blissful tranquillity for your indulgence.
You are asleep with your eyes open, it feels so benefic,
the mind is calm and clear no longer confused.
Melodious sound continues to provide atmospheric
momentum to this sensibility folding into the soul.
Joyfully you are enduring moments of pure inner solitude
and wrapped in perfect peace, consciousness uncommitted.
There is no expectation of time, not at all...
just the psyche drifting, changing shape, density, profundity.
You feel wonderfully restituted, calmed; uplifted.
You sense it, knowing, this absence of tension you sought,
this, your perfect you, is transient and will slowly begin to regress, reluctantly,
relinquishing this blissfully serene, conditioned emotional stillness, to be restored.



Then you turn the telly on!....  All gone.

Michael C Crowder        19th November 2018
@scorsby
This was doing just what it says
Before you judge someone; take a walk in their shoes.
Everyone is different,
Living their own life and may be it's a bit hard for them.
In their world, they could be dealing with some
Extra demons or negative thoughts. Everybody's mind
Varies; made up with different chemicals, making
Each human unique and special. We need to
Respect each other and care for each other!!

          •We're all in this world TOGETHER!•
Copyright; 2017
McNally/Flanders, Inc.
I wrote this a couple weeks ago;
a poem about mental health and our society!
Please spread mental health awareness!
The more we know the more we can understand!
Knowledge is power not money.
P.S. song title from Imagine Dragons
lovelywildflower Oct 2018
i have struggled with falling asleep at night but when i imagine you holding me and making me feel safe, i can sleep so easily now.
Ezra Yelverton Dec 2018
imagine a world that would allow you
to see yourself through your love’s eyes;
you’d see the things that make you beautiful.
like the gap between your teeth,
or the scars below your lip.
completely embrace the defects that meet in the middle,
stretching from each side of your chest.
there’s no sadness in your eyes,
that embarrassing trait matters a lot less.
standing before you would be a person that deserves love
and needs to be loved by you.
Bella Jul 2018
Sometimes I get stuck in this state of Darkness
where my eyes can see
but it's like my head is just pitch black
and I almost wish I couldn't see anything,
like I wish I could just curl myself into a ball so tightly that I disappear from space for a while

sometimes I get stuck in this space
and I feel like my tears and my thoughts
are climbing up my esophagus and clogging my throat
blocking my airway
suffocating me from the inside

maybe I never told you I was depressed because who wants to relive that moment
that choking hazard moment of cotton ***** in my throat

maybe I never told you I was depressed because there are no words I can use to describe it that don't transform themselves into their meanings
that don't take over my mind
crawl through my head like little worms
eating away at my brain
my thoughts
my skin

have you ever thought of a traumatic experience and then felt those events happening again
felt the dark hole of life-threatening-trauma attack your mind
Shiver through your body
like it was a demon you let in through a memory-
through a word

maybe I didn't tell you I was depressed
because I wasn't strong enough
my depression fills me to the brim
fills my head and my chest
my arms and my fingers
I can feel it moving through my body
I can feel it expanding and engulfing everything inside of me
every last vein, nerve, *****, and tissue
how can you expect me to have the energy to fight
how can you expect me to have the energy to pick up the phone
to open my mouth
how can you expect me to have energy-to have the courage to utter the words of how I feel
I feel so worthless
in those moments I feel like there's this black whole inside me and it's consuming everything
it's taking everything but my skin
and it disgusts me

can you imagine the feeling,
having something so utterly repulsive on your skin you had to scrape it off immediately
It felt like you needed to be cleansed
like you needed a shower
take that feeling
now imagine it being under your skin
imagine, every muscle ***** vein nerve every cell in your body underneath your epidermis disgusts you
imagine all you wanted to do was to
GET
IT
OFF
and you can't
no matter how hard you try
you can't scrape it off
you can't claw It off

imagine you're scared of spiders
now imagine you're covered in spiders
and someone's holding down your arms
so you can't get them off
imagine them walking on your skin
in your mouth
crawling on your open eyes
in your ears
you're cringing at your own skin
You can feel them going down your throat
Their disgusting tickle in your stomach
in every crevice of your body
their tunneling under your skin
and you can't get them off
what are you supposed to do
but cry
My best friend's mom who doesn't believe in depression asked why I never told her I was depressed...
XyL0S Jan 4
When the time would come,
if ever
And against their judgement, I'll choose to flee
Don't run away.

Stay,
And I'll be quiet in the corner;
The visitor
Don't worry,
I won't ask
if there's room for another broken soul

We broken souls
harbor all the space
There is.

We broken souls
save home for a never.
XyLOS

04/11/2019
September Rose Feb 2018
Imagine a Person
just like you
living parallel to you
their life a parallel line to yours
a Person who finds the same thrills as you
loves nothing more than your favorite artist
your passions exactly the same
living your life
singing your songs
painting your paintings
a Person so uncannily made for you
someone that you would instantly click with
someone that would watch sunsets with you
someone you would never let go of till the day you die.
someone impossible
because you just never quite meet
someone you just miss by some cruel circumstance
and you'll always miss them
because you see the thing about parallel lines
they never meet
David Hutton Dec 2018
Just imagine if I disappeared,
Would your memory of me be blurred?
Rusting away in your mind,
Leaving me behind.
A face you had known, a name you had heard.
Tori Nov 2018
I see it in my minds eye
how he, on a day like today
bowing so, in the way that he would
arm outstretched, would to me kindly say
"Care to join me for a walk?"
And oh! on a day as today
with the rain, falling just as it should
I would say, with his arm as my helm
"what perfect weather for a walk!"
we would tread, in the shade of the wood
'neath a gamp and the dripping of elms
with old leaves, as a path for our feet
and our words, as a path to new realms
on sundry things we should naturally talk
if we would, and we should, time will tell
on a day like today, time will tell
Lyn-Purcell Oct 2018
Staring at the clouds
I dream of flying through them
Unbound and care free

Sun now warms my cheek
Pearl pink castles made of clouds
How I miss my youth
One minute it's freezing, the next it's a lovely day. London!
Though I've got alot on my mind, I couldn't help but make shapes of the clouds and be truly immersed in it. It felt so real.
I really miss just being a kid...
Lyn ***
Eva Rushton Aug 2018
May I sing with onlymy heart
While my voice stays silently still
With my eyes open
By closing my ears

May I dance with only my eyes
While my body stays still
And open my mind
By stilling my thoughts

May I smile with actions alone
With my back to your face
See with your heart
While closing your eyes

Written by E. M. Rushton
Aug 8th 2018
zebra Apr 2017
i always imagine you so very graceful
through the masochists ordeal
a god form of supplication

seeing your face
in love
fascinated by shimmering kisses
that hurt, yet please
wet lips and sharp teeth  
glamors that excite

cold blade licks dragged across
tender bellies
naval
buttocks
and flexed toes
stinging
then radiating outwards

wounds become lilies
mouth *******
tremulous weeping kisses
ecstatic cruelties
blood glitter sacrifice

your supplication
love pangs

i'm shaking apart over you
your countenance
a cascading dream
moved to tears of adoration
your  limitless
yielding
like surrenders caress
an infinite communion
with fragile limbs
silky wrapped spools
innerness of desire veiled in a shroud
a faltering star that glistens crimson
nymph of purgation
ash volcanic
cells en-flamed with tongues that bite
subsumed in scented vapors
a confection of **** and ***
waves embrace ineffable shores
passed the discontinuity of life  

I have the most immense feeling of love for you
am i not
the saint death  
quietly following you
through life's labyrinth
innocuous  
waiting humbly in the wings

i am all ache for you
a vice of kisses
a brief encounter
that eats your sight and senses
ushering you to immortal freedom
a swooning garland of fire that enlivens
the body electric
a mist of molecules

your tears intoxicate
i am new life with in you
budding embryo
that consumes its mother for nourishment
and saturates like dew drops  
as it echoes through oblivion
My poems remain explorations of the subconscious ******
If i where a film maker or a novelist  you  would see me telling a story, and yes  i admit to my paraphilias.
These poems  are lunar anamorphic streams of consciousness from the deep chaotic subterranean glitz of transgressive  impulses we all share
Read them if you dare...You might find that part of yourself that you don't want you to know about and then again  you may feel more complete some how if you do....I always loved that dark thing that sleeps with in me
ronli Nov 2018
Imagine
How much I could do
With no fear
Rivea Feb 9
They say two is better than one.
After meeting you,
that saying finally has meaning.
Imagine a painting of a world
in which everything exists in gloomy shades of grey,
a world in which colors no longer reside after long, weary years.  
This is a place where the word “happy,” has no home in the dictionary.  
Now imagine a new artist comes along,
repainting everything in the brightest colors they can find.
Grass is turned an emerald green,
the sky is a beautiful baby blue,
and the sun now lives in the top corner at all times.  
This, my dear, is how you have made me feel.
You brought your own ideas into my dull world and
all at once,
everything regained color.
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