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Cné Feb 2017
When I was a child,
I dreamt I could fly,
When I woke, I tried for a while
As hard a I might, it was a lie!

When I was a child,
I dreamt I could breathe
Under water for a while.
Awake I tried but air I need!

As I grew up, those silly dreams I forgot,
Until one day I jumped out of a plane,
With a parachute, the wind I caught.
Flying like Superman, it was insane!

As I grew up, those silly dreams I thought I forgot,
Until I dove deep down under water,
With scuba gear that I bought.
Swimming like a mermaid was not bother!

Looking back now, I see
Those silly little dreams
Were always a part of me.
Dreams come true, it seems!
True story. When I went skydiving, I was wearing a t-shirt with the Superman emblem on it. I wonder what other dreams I forgot...
Tommy Randell Feb 2017
Always, always pleased
To be unexpectedly smitten
Like finding the wind comes from trees
Waving their branches in rhythm
Like finding a Poem has meaning
Beyond the words that are written
That the path we follow is true
As we dance through a series of prisms
This poem was written to a moment of insight upon reading a poem 'Mutiny' by Mysidian Bard (qv)
jane taylor May 2016
in the end
what’s foe
is friend

©2016janetaylor
Steve Page Jul 12
[Proverbs 4:6
Do not forsake wisdom, and she will protect you; love her, and she will watch over you.
Proverbs 7:4
Say to wisdom, “You are my sister,” and to insight, “You are my relative.”]

Do we really need
all the friends we can get?
Are we truely better off
not knowing?
Will it all work out
when we get to the end?
And do we need to get tough
to get going?

I prefer to listen,
I'm learning to wait
and hear from she who is wiser.
I've made some mistakes,
but I'm learning from those
who trust the Word as adviser.

As I sit and I read,
as I ponder and pray
my sisters begin to make sense.
My sister is Wisdom, my sister is Insight,
my first and next line of defense.
Proverbs 4:6
Do not forsake wisdom, and she will protect you; love her, and she will watch over you.
Proverbs 7:4
Say to wisdom, “You are my sister,” and to insight, “You are my relative.”
shamamama Jun 11
if i could pay you in poetry
would you prefer
fiery and feisty
loving and longing
crazy and crafty
scentual and sightful
playful and pranking
guru and gonzo
singing and songing
listening and lightness
softing and sensual
tender and tinder
laughter and limitless
insight and winsight

tell me,
what poetry would you
put in your bank?
On the notion of money in the bank, I wondered if he world would be different if we paid each other in poetry.  What do you think?
OC Dec 2018
And in the eighth day, god has glanced
upon his fair creation.
He blessed the common of good sense
and reached imagination.

BY ME!, he said to Gabriel,
I think I've done it pretty well,
by inventing logic first
and afterwards the universe.
Well even though it's been quite tough
our world is... reasonable enough.

Now, I am worried since right there
is a little point that's out of order.
It is that little point of view.
It gave us trouble, quite a few.
Please, Gabriel, do fix the matter
and make our world work better.

God head assistant cried "Disgrace!"
"You little point! Get back in place!"
But when he got up near,
he found out something... weird...
From that point, when he looked at it
god seemed to him... a wrong a bit...

Two angels all equipped and set
were sent to straight things up.
"Are you not back in line yet?!"
"You make our boss seem all upset."
"Beware, or we shall call a cop!"

Yet...
When the angels closer drew
each held a different point of view
then roared a great loud argument
upon what point god really meant!

Oh dear, what shall we do with you?
Such little, stubborn, point of view.
A right solution was not found,
they had to let it stay around.
No one knows what for.
But since that day, we all can say
Life's all,
except a bore...
A little gem by my old man that I've learned to recite by heart. Was written in English originally, unlike other pieces I had to translate.
Tommy Randell Oct 2017
If you were alone on a mirrored floor
Could only see yourself in strange perspective
Looking down at yourself always
Making judgements about faraway skies

If you were alone on a glassy ocean
Could feel the dark depths below you *******
Your leaden heart weighing you down
Yearning for a wave to throw you aloft

If you were alone falling through space
The wind in your lungs like liquid glass
Spinning in turmoil with no beginning, no end
Confused forever in some bright genesis of light

Then you would know
What standing near you
Does to me
Everyday.
marianne Oct 2018
When yes is a gift
wrapped in love wrapped in
reason wrapped
in daydream wrapped in
self doubt wrapped
in pain wrapped in    
silence—
it is likely no, wrapped
in bitterness

When no is a gift
wrapped in love wrapped in
insight wrapped    
in waking wrapped in
bloom wrapped
in shelter wrapped in
truth spoken—
it is yes,
unwrapped
Pallavi Feb 11
My love is like a quartz
Bestowing shine & sparks.
It's still like a Tiffany
So smooth but slippery.
It's like an expensive piece of art
I can only imagine for.
Absence sharpens love.....
They say,
My love couldn't reach
to the bay.
It's just a fiction.
BJ Donovan Mar 2018
Jack Daniel's

We bought a broken dog
and took him to our broken home
to live with this broken family.
We tried to fix him with broken
training. I was too broken to get
it right. The more I yelled the more
broke he got. I had a drunken insight
one evening walking him in a full moon.
He reminded me of me in my childhood.
I saw things through his broken eyes
and held him close. I promised I'd fix us.
I adopted myself from a dog shelter.
Jule Jul 28
Ash was there, filling each groove -
Making it impossible as a space to use.
I searched for a device to clear my vice,
But could only see ones with others lips on their device.
Come to find, this one is mine!
But as I turned to clear the ash once near,
My gaze caught me by surprise.
The ash was clear!
We could settle here,
But there was one point I felt insight.
I could’ve used a device from another -
To clear the ash once near.
But I searched and waited to find my own,
And my patience brought me here.
eleanor prince Aug 2018
once more
layers of casing
are torn

papers culled
windows gleam
sheets smile

the cost is high
if not see
when to stop

can I find north
after all
I’d asked

so life’s paths
once veiled
in yesterday's grime

dispatched
to the winds
reveal

another vision
refreshing as
spring rain

seeking every fissure
quietly lodged boarders
not paying rent

evicted
as another corner
begs mastery

along with
a neater place
it dawns on me

atrophy
is the order
of things

vacate for a few
short paces
and face

it all again
wrenching me
from the lulling

status quo
of my stilted
blindness
sometimes when we ask for greater clarity in life, to be able to 'see' things at a more profound breadth and depth, a cleansing of sorts emerges on every level
Mystic Ink Plus Sep 2018
If it is true
We never have to question
If we question
We are in doubt
If we are in doubt
We may be right
If we all are right
Who is wrong?

Question more
Repeat the same

Till we find,
Ourselves wrong
Ourselves right

All the time
Genre: Abstract
Theme: Questioning Truth
Are you out there my Friend.? ? Somewhere The Wind is blowing..? Where your footprints are gone as soon as left. No one to know. No one Knowing.?
       Are you in the Wind? ? A voice, distant, lost in the swirl of snow and Autumn leaves.? Your way Home...unknown.
       The next step taken, but down what path.? Will it lead through this wood, or wander Forever this Dismal forest of Bramble and Thorn? No shelter in sight. No sheltering insight.
Crows with eyes bright. Plucking at your at your sleeves and dress. Catching your skin, bleeding you like a priest with a fleem. Leaving you wounded and hurt., weary and wary.
       If you stand still but a moment., cease your struggling, stumbling and listen. you'll hear my voice.
On the Wind
Calling you Home.
Safe within the walls and warmth of my arms.
For Brittney. Your looking for what you already found.
Tekan Jan 2
Leaving me wanting more
I reminisce your first sight
Not a single flaw
Everything just right

As you move on the dance floor
In the evening light
Four by four
Beats with a bite

I feel your energy roar
With all its might
I wanna see what els is in store
So I pop you an invite

"meet me at the door
I'm the lady in white

if you wanting your soul to soar
and ignite

Love youre
Delight"
SHAINA BHATTI Jan 10
A puny nib tells it's affliction to perception sheet.
Kitbag of Words Jan 2018
an incredible incite (the ruthless volatility of words)

~for L.B.~

the only place of solitaire solitude in the city accompanies me
like a faithful country dog that doesn’t know better to be afraid,
of moving cars, sleepless night terrors and unscripted “dreams”

where image and words say come “follow me” with ruthlessness and no cloying come hither looks and
see and take and recall with perfect midnight blue sky clarity for

the incredible incite of credible insight

surfacing unexpectedly in a intemperate pool of slushy snow,
that will be an ice storm of painful confrontations with naked
inner truths standing outside in sunny sub zero playground

there is great risk.  volatility gone wild. when the speed
governor is removed and you live at 100 mph on local streets,
when the merest slight of an accidental incidental touch
transforms into an incite incident and hell is the threat
that you will not die today and your own words will ruthless
pull from the nerve places where sensible and sensual cannot
coexist and this write this script is a poetical insight inside, an
incredible incite and what your spilling is spaghetti sauce blood
when you left your brain on broil, instead of the faking daily of
slow simmering ineffectual intellectual words that just don’t
cut the crap. your addiction complete, you cannot live without
the incredible incite, the ruthless volatility of words,
otherwise why rough write what you see
in the blind
beyond the blind


1/6/18 5:03am
Twelfth Night, Act 1, Scene 5
“I took great pains to study and ’tis poetical
Ash Sep 2018
You know those films on movies where they flip the table
Throw things around and scream obscenities at everyone
Well this is exactly what I would do,if my life was a movie
Instead I the prey sit here hiding all the anger trapped inside
Instead I the prey take a walk stay silent taming it all in
Instead I the prey fall prey every time to the predators bait

You know that feeling you get when you are disgusted by yourself
Trying to conjure up where everything went wrong?
How you can change things?
What to do not to repeat the same mistake?
When you finally think I got this,you repeat the same thing
Only to get things actually have gotten worse
Well that feeling of disgust is not funny

You know that feeling you get when realize how naive you've been
When you realize all the anger that you have is because:
You just couldn't let go
You held onto your ideas so strongly,you couldn't see the others
You loved someone to much but didn't love an ounce of yourself
You listened to all the negative people
You felt all the negative energy and let it consume you
Yeah well I can tell you how pathetic and joyful realizing that will make you feel

I put you on top
So far up there
When I need you the most
When I come to collect my fingers caught ***** first,
Then I stretched a little further and got hate
I stretched a little further and got unfaithfulness
I stretched and got pain so much pain and anger
When I almost gave up I got me back with a sprinkle of wisdom
So I'll give you this I love you always will
Even though you shattered me
Though I love you more because you dear
Returned me back with a sprinkle of wisdom
This poem is a get way of some sort,I wrote it with a lot of anger at first as clearly seen in the first stanza but as I was writing,spilling this words out I realized my problem all the anger morphed into something else better than crying or being angry all the anger towards the person towards my situation turned to getting me back with a sprinkle of wisdom ,now I just wished I had done this earlier which shows what I meant by not loving an ounce of myself since I listen to others more than I listened to me,I loved and wanted to be loved more than I had love for myself,always doing what they want to please them always holding so firmly to my philosophies that I broke every single time things didn't go how I idealized them,So this is just what this poem above is about it took this final straw just when I thought things couldn't get worse only for them too for me to get me back with a sprinkle of wisdom
md-writer Jun 8
insight comes at night
when whispers are the
language of terror, or delight;
the piercing eye of mind delivers
truth most clearly
in the dark

or so I find
annh Jan 11
Blind man walking - heals through touch,
Carries coconut oil in an old jam jar,
Trusts in the magic which guides his hands,
To carry his dusty feet home.
Based loosely on my brief acquaintance with a traditional Fijian bobo (massage) practitioner and healer named Rupeni from the village of Vunivesi, Vanua Levu. Vinaka vaka levu, Rupeni! :)
Steven Cole Aug 2018
If I could be a better man
I'd have enough insight
To always come up with a plan
In times of trouble, danger, or distress
I'd keep my emotions under control
And never run out of rational sense
No circumstances would ever drown me
Or rise above my head
Because I'd know how to swim the currents
And land on solid ground instead


If I could be a better man
I'd have the courage to follow through
With every noble goal I set
And every appeal to selflessness
I am tempted to forget
There'd never be a task
I couldn't undertake
Even if it meant
My life was at stake
Money, time and resources
Would never grow on me
But I'd give of these objects endlessly
And at the end of the day
I'd still know how
To be completely and utterly free


If I could be a better man
I'd never fear the entity of change
But embrace this shrewd reality
Unhindered by its pace
I'd keep a face like solid flint
When revolution
Threatened to derange
At will I'd change my emotions
To better fit each phase
Each chapter of life
From page to page
I'd wire my brain to electrically flow
Smoothly and flawlessly
Everywhere I'd go


If I could be a better man
I'd never struggle with uncertainty
But always know what choice to make
No matter the options that lay before me
I'd never have to second guess
Overthink, obsess or stress
The presented realities and decisions of life
A special wisdom I'd possess
A knowing in my gut and heart
Of all that is my destiny
And all the steps I would have to take
To get to where I want to be
How each occurrence
And aspect of life
Fitted this picture
I'd also see


If I could be a better man
I'd always be a man of my word
Letting my actions always
Positively confirm the things you heard
I'd mean every syllable I spoke to you
With fiery convictions I knew to be true
I'd always know how to communicate
And wouldn't let grievous words
Separate
Relationships so vital and true
The stuff we're made for
And shouldn't undo


If I could be a better man
I'd be a fountain of virtues flowing
Ever going
Like a rumbling and roaring
and rushing waterfall
Dazzlingly Tall

Wisdom

    Prudence

   Diligence

  Patience

Courage

  And Emotional Intelligence

     Faithfulness

   Rectitude

  Purity

  Relentless tenacity

    Fortitude

      And overall confidence

                                            With surety


If I could be the perfect man
There'd be one thing I'd always know how to do
And that is, my friend, in all sincerity
Faithfully loving you


But since I know
I am far from perfect
I will do the best I can
And though I fail now and then
I will get back up
And stand
I will seek forgiveness
Down on my knees
Ask God for strength,
Grace and Mercy please
My weaknesses I'll count as blessings
And thank God I don't have to be
The Savior of the world
Superman
Who for comfort, has no need
Summer days and heatwaves
Sweat pouring down our skin
Working hard no time to rest
From the time the day begins.

Bailing hay without a shade
Not a single cloud insight
Gathering all the barely corn
We work until the night.

we have a little hideaway
A place down in the vale
Its where we drink some scrumpy
Along with beer and ale.

We while away  an hour or more
Depending on how we feel
We rest and take it easy
No sound from the tractors wheel.

Now tomorrow is another day
Our work load it will keep
We may be striming hedge grows
Or we may be shearing sheep.

But we really are not bothered
We've been farmers far too long
We carry out our dutys
And sometimes with a song.

Our lives are hard but simple
We are living the country life
Away from the city and the fumes
From cars and such alike.

You see we have this hideaway
A little place down in the vale
So come along and join us
At the end of a farmers day
Feeling the affects of the British heatwave
Made me feel just how  it must  be for the farmers with all the heat.
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