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Danielle Jul 2022
"Perhaps, we are the people who met each other at a time warp, that's why we are still existing in this millennium."

It's like my heartbeat has been cursed by twenty lifetimes; I would trade all my days, even if it turns from epoch to eon, I will always come back to you.
"we are the time travelers"
Beauteous Beast Jul 2016
yesterday, i was on the verge of letting you go. i left the thought of you in my last 84 years, and before that too. today, i'm 34 and maybe will last for the next decades or so. i'm not sure if i'll leave this lifetime again-- with the trails of your kisses dangling on my shoulder, its tips gently swaying across my bare back. ill ask myself again tomorrow the dreaded question of my past lifetimes, "why will i leave you again?".

i developed this habitual longing for thoughts of you inside my head. how i couldn't quite reach the satisfaction of imagining--i need your soul in physical form. i need you with me; right here, right now.

you can clearly see the fault here, and i'm sorry for that. i need to love you, not need nor want you. it's not some complicated **** as the reason of my soon-to-be absence for the rest of your life, it's the crushing thought of being not worthy to be yours. you're too precious, too much of a sweet liability for my bitter tongue could willingly handle.

alas, this lifetime would probably be wasted again on depressing decisions that will be the end of me. but one thing is for sure, inside the deep oblivion of my mind, i will always love you. and i'm wishing for more lifetimes to come for me to get that out of my nothingness.
it's long but it's worth it
tom hansell Feb 2019
Behind his back, soft and sweet, whispering his name
A voice spoke to him - just as it had - in a life before
With lightest touch - to calm his soul - yet set his heart aflame
Upon his shoulder - a hand paused - freeing his spirit to soar

Bright light of mountain height
Sound's profoundly fecund depth
Stirring evanescent - air
Breathing - a lesson - lifetimes come and lifetimes go - only parts of which we share

Turning, looking, seeking, hoping, ... only no one - was there
Sharing, feeling, loving, caring… only - no one - would be
His breath had gone - and not returned - with a sound he could not bear
His life had stopped - and not come back - with a face he could not see

Bright - light of mountain height
Sounds profound - with fecund depth
Stirring - evanescent air
Breathing - a lesson - lifetimes come and lifetimes go - only parts of which we share

He learned his love, seeing truth and beauty, suffering an unsaid prayer
Within and without, by the awakening tree, bloomed a pure white flower
He found his love - still - in the depths of his heart, forever may he be aware
Within and without, by symbol and sign, may he live by that sacred power

Bright light of mountain height
Sounds profound and fecund depth
Stirring evanescent air
Breathing a lesson - lifetimes come and lifetimes go - only parts of which we share
I love learning new words and also sharing them. "Paracusia" means a phantom sound, an "auditory hallucination" - although that combination of words may not make much sense
Ronald J Chapman Nov 2014
Cold has arrived;
Tonight I see snow falling from the sky,

It seems like for a thousand lifetimes I have,
Waited to stand before you,
To feel the cold white flakes tickle my nose!
To feel the cold white flakes touch my lips!

It seems like for a thousand lifetimes I have,
Waited to stand in front of you,

The flowers have gone,
The snow is falling like white rose pedals,
Snow flakes falling on the water look like sparking diamonds,

It seems like for a thousand lifetimes I have,
Waited to stand along side of you,

Standing here looking at you covered in pure white,
So cold, so beautiful you are,
Yet! Looking at you, makes my heart feel warm,
Tears fall from my eyes; I missed you,

It seems like for a thousand lifetimes I have waited,

To walk alongside a river named 'Han'.


© 2014 Ronald J Chapman All Rights Reserved.
Ethan Lee Mar 2016
There are faces on my refrigerator with smiling eyes,
like windows into my past.

My fridge can reverse death.

Photographic evidence:
my 60-year-old grandfather,
my 6-year-old self,
16-year-old brother ,
with his long curly hair that was "in" at the time.

My refrigerator has a better memory than me sometimes,
because unlike the freezer door suggests,
I do not recollect ever going to California.

What my fridge forgets:
all the frowns that weren’t photogenic,
all of the arguments with my parents,
the times the drugs made me look like a stranger.

We’ve had the same refrigerator for 17 years,
and following my father's hoarding mentality,
we will use it
until it dies.

An entire lifetime pictured amongst pots, pans, pickles, and plated leftovers.

When guests visit for the first time they gawk
at my youthful beardless self;
my innocent unknowing self.
They always say
“my, you’ve aged
well”
or they say
“my, you've grown up.”

But in reality,
all I’ve done
is kept on living,

while the fridge is the only evidence of my aging.
i've lived three hundred lifetimes
i know three hundred ways to die
I can't stop coming back here
I know, because I've tried

An endless cosmic circle
Where my soul is on the move
I've lived three hundred lifetimes
I'm stuck in an empty, hollow, groove

I'm lost, but I don't know it
I'm lost, but I can't tell
I'm lost, but I don't know it
I'm lost, in times deep well
I'm lost....so lost
I'm lost...so lost

I've come back as a sailor
Then I drowned while out at sea
I've come back as a mother
died in pregnancy

Each time, there is a feeling
That I've been in this place in time
I can't explain the feeling
I'm in a groove, not on a line

I'm lost, but I don't know it
I'm lost, but I can't tell
I'm lost, but I don't know it
I'm lost, in times deep well
I'm lost....so lost
I'm lost...so lost

I know that I have met you
Once or twice our paths have crossed
There's a feeling that surrounds you
But, still I feel that I am lost

After three hundred seven lifetimes
Before I'm in the ground
I've got a feeling that we're special
I'm lost as lost, but, not quite found

I'm lost, but I don't know it
I'm lost, but I can't tell
I'm lost, but I don't know it
I'm lost, in times deep well
I'm lost....so lost
I'm lost...so lost

You know, I didn't even know it
That I was lost, until you came
into my life and found me
because you too had felt the same

Until you came along and found me
I didn't know I was lost...but you
Came into my life and found me
I guess that's what soul mates do.

I'm lost, but I don't know it
I'm lost, but I can't tell
I'm lost, but I don't know it
I'm lost, in times deep well
I'm lost....so lost
I'm lost...so lost
Chalsey Wilder Jul 2014
There are things that are forbidden
The small black box in the darkest corner of my mind is forbidden
Things, bad things are in that box
It's locked
And it must be for good reason
There could be a thousand lifetimes my soul has lived in that box
Or it could be old memories best forgotten
I don't know, and I may never know
All I know it that that box is forbidden
And I don't have the key
I don't know where it is or where to begin to look for it
*And my feelings tell me that the key is just as forbidden too
Some things are best left unopened
Mohit mishra Jul 2016
Oh motherland, at your feet
may all moments of my life lie sacrificed
This strength of my youth, these breaths,
All are surrendered to you

To protect your honour
I would forego hundred lifetimes
I would either embrace death or
vanquish your enemies
Touching your feet in reverence
I take this solemn oath
until the end of my life
I would be loyal to you
Those who have died in your lap
their spirits bask in eternal happiness
Oh motherland, at your feet
may all moments of my life lie sacrificed


My mother tells me
I will go on without you
bearing the pain of your passing
by turning my heart into stone
However, if in your lifetime
there is a threat to this country
and being fearless you do not
fight this threat, my son,
then, I will think, I birthed
poison instead of life
or that my nourishment
did not give enough strength
Listening to these words
my head lies forever bowed
Oh motherland, at your feet
may all moments of my life lie sacrificed


It is not only said by my mother
but all mothers of this country
to give birth to a Narsimh
they bear difficult pangs of labour
Those brave warriors who wrote
history with their life blood
carry their images in your heart
and placing your hand there, promise,
you will forsake everything else
at the call of your motherland
Your body, soul and life
surrendered to your country
Oh motherland, at your feet
may all moments of my life lie sacrificed


Narsimh - an avatar of the Hindu god Vishnu,often visualised as having a human torso and lower body, with a lion face and claws. He is known primarily as the 'Great Protector' who specifically defends and protects his devotees in times of need.


Translation is given by karishma ji
Robin Carretti Aug 2018
Do you really think
everything you
see and touch or
love with such care
Has your name on it
   *      *      *      *      
*Divinity meet the Great

     *      *      *      *      
Lifetimes healing two freaking amazing feet


The house Mr. and Mrs.
   I suppose?
I double dare them
Great Play "Domino"
Where art thou freaking
match
Lover of all time Romeo

Prince and the Pauper her lovely
peasant dress the big catch of the day
This is the fisherman
All hooks and bait of
workmanship
The naked play Julliete
begin
So totally wherein

The spiritual home
never doubt I love

Shakespearian historian
Two Love DovesVictorain
Spiritual growth

Unconditionally
Freaking Great Earth

Defines your passion
The best creation your birth
Our defeat nothing turns
automatically sweet

This is our
"Great Expectations"

What to value anymore
Constitution versus the
Freaking Show Institution

Full bloom maturity growing
adventure unknown
On the same wavelength
He still dresses the same
In the Same town
New York Serendipity
Ice cream cookie dough mix the
freak shakes

That's great no time for breaks
The Baskin sin Robbins
Robin Bob Bobbin

People are not surviving
Their world is too weak
They cannot stretch to hold

The French connection kiss
fourteen carats of gold
Making a rise in good stock
Cattle sold
The Trump Tower fall out stars
The great year for puzzles

The worlds are full of moments
when we shouldn't be laughing
Not a great time he meets your
sadness
Round star of tears kindness

In her movement happiness walk
The worst times bring out her
   freaky nature  

Never aches either to change
Furniture looks modern cold
freaking great hot she was told

To be bonded in a marriage
Feeling older like her antique
wicker baby carriage
Eiffel tower the powerful
romance hour meeting her
happy hour

He is shopping for suits
Going back to his Brooklyn roots
smells of food feeling good

Getting into someone's mind
Meet Robin Hood
If I can turn back time the vessel
The Joker wild fossil

Like a freaking booker
there is no guarantee
The Suspense is killing me
don't freak out

Not paying your rent on-time
Those specks marked up your glasses
Time passes but your making a
spectacle of yourself


Imagine the world all alone
Brillantina smiling at
the Mona Lisa petite ballerina
Great Professor brother
Freaking out sister
Two-headed circus the Freakshow  
The haves or
the have-nots week went slow

The trees someone's apple poison
Gives someone such pleasure
companion what a complicated
mission

  Too deeply dwell in the possibilities

Each morning we are born again
Broke some blood capillaries
Or time will tell the Vampire Diaries

Tomorrow is another day
How you wish every day was payday

Almond eyes creaminess
The pick-up color of your dress
What is curdling freaky spooking
No time to Hail the Mary
Milk Soy what a cute
little miracle boy

Even talking on your
Light up tree ringtones
Out of your comfort
high cheekbones
Egyptian Camels sandstorm
Kiss your Mother just feel

His smile fireplace candescent
With your lover, he could
paint your body how
time just went in a heartbeat

The world is moving but
you're losing some gravity
But he lifts some parts
Sinking your teeth into the
best corn on the cob

Medieval times his
sword is taking
Anew freaking shape
Emerging and peeking out
Hair is French braided fine
knotted

He zooms out freaking great
one of a kind Corvette
Calling to you your name
He told the world
standing like a God
We are all freaking great
  
Poets* Just start to know it
This is freaking great or not we laugh sometimes when things aren't funny but that's okay we need to move on and make it the better day even if our prayers are not answered its in our hearts the best parts are you-you are the freaking great
eyy May 2015
I wandered slowly
Through sidewalk cracks and broken pavements
Finding my own piece of Gethsemane
So that people would know I exist

I was a ghost
To eyes that didn't even care to look
A boring book
To minds that didn't even bother to read
A blank canvas
To those who didn't even try to understand

That I was somebody

All of them only saw me as an empty bottle
Not knowing I just want to be filled with silence
Because silence is a beautiful symphony
And I am the conductor

I am a human being capable of owning a soul and
Live through a thousand lifetimes

I was never the boring book
In fact, I am the author
Writing my own story on Life's pages

I am an artist
A dreamer who can create masterpieces even on
A blank canvas such as myself

But most of all, I am an introvert
A carapace even I consider a home
Because it makes me who I am and
Not because of what you say I am
Valentine Mbagu Oct 2013
As October 1 approaches, HAPPY INDEPENDENCE DAY……………………
I have enormous tracts of land and vast volumes of water, but cannot feed myself.
So I spend $1 billion to import rice and another $2 billion on milk.
I produce rice, but don’t eat it. I have millions of cows but no milk.
I am 53, please celebrate me.
I drive the best cars in the world but have no roads,
so I crush my best brains in the caverns,
craters and crevasses they crash into daily.
I am in unending mourning, please celebrate me.
My school has no teacher and my classroom has no roof.
I take lectures through windows and live with 15 others in one room.
All my professors have gone abroad, and the rest are awaiting visas.
I am a university graduate, but I am illiterate. I want a future, please celebrate me.
Preventable diseases send me to hospitals without doctors, medicines or power.
All the nurses have gone abroad and the rest are waiting to go also.
I have the highest maternal and infant mortality rates in the world;
and future generations are dying before me. I am hopeless, hapless and helpless,
please celebrate me.
For democracy’s sake I stood all day on Election Day.
But before I could ink my thumb, results had been broadcast.
When I dared to speak out, silence was enthroned by bullets.
My leaders are my oppressors, and my policemen are my terrors.
I am ruled by men in mufti, but I am not a democracy.
I have no verve, no vote, no voice, please celebrate me.
My youth have no past, present nor future.
So my sons in the North have become street urchins;
and his brothers in the South have become kidnappers.
My nephews die of thirst in the Sahara and his cousins drown in the Mediterranean.
My daughters walk the streets of Lagos , Abuja and Port Harcourt;
while her sisters parade the streets of Rome and Amsterdam .
I am grief-stricken, please celebrate me.
Pen-wielding bandits have raided everything in my vaults.
They walk the land with haughty strides and fly the skies with private planes
They have looted the future of generations unborn;
and have money they cannot spend in several lifetimes,
but their brothers die of starvation. I want a kit of kindness, please celebrate me.
I can produce anything, but import everything.
So my toothpick is made in China; my toothpaste is made in South Africa;
my salt is made in Ghana; my butter is made in Ireland;
my milk is made in Holland; my shoe is made in Italy;
my vegetable oil is made in Malaysia* my biscuit is made in Indonesia;
my chocolate is made in Turkey and my table water made in France.
My taste is far-flung and foreign, please celebrate me.
My land is dead because all the trees have been cut down;
flooding kills thousands yearly because the drainages are clogged;
my fishes are dead because the oil companies dump waste in my rivers;
my communities are vanishing into the huge yawns of gully erosion, and nothing is being done.
My very existence is uncertain and I am in the deepest depths of despondence, please celebrate me.
I have genuine leather but choose to eat it.
So I spend billions of dollars to import fake leather.
I have four refineries, but prefer to import fuel,
so I waste more billions to import petrol. I have no security in my country,
but send troops to keep peace in another man’s land.
I have hundreds of dams, but no water.
So I drink ‘pure’ water that roils my innards.
I need a vision, please celebrate me.
I have a million candidates craving to enter universities,
but my dungeons can only accommodate a tenth.
I have no power, but choose to flare gas,
so my people have learnt to see in the dark and stare at the glare of Unclad flares.
I am shrouded by darkness, please celebrate me.
For my golden jubilee,
I shall spend 16 billion naira to bash around the bonfires of the banal.
So what if the majority gaze at my possessed, frenzied dance;
drenched in silent tears, as probity is enslaved in democracy’s empty cellars?
I am profligacy personified, please celebrate me.
Why can I not simply reflect and ponder?
Does my complexion cloud the colour of my character?
Does my location limit the lengths my liberty?
Does the spirit of my conviction shackle my soul
Does my mien maim the mine of my mind?
And is failure worth celebrating?
I AM NIGERIAN, PLEASE CELEBRATE ME.
I dedicate this Poem to my Country Nigeria On Her Independence Celebration.
Sydney Carter Jul 2017
and the way
I held onto you,
as if my soul would ache
if the universe pulls us away;
made me understand
that I have missed you
for a thousand lifetimes.
andrew juma Dec 2015
Hey, i want to speak with honesty,
I dont know what i would do without poetry,

Feel like i won a lottery,
all because of word pottery,

a mind free is all,
expressing secrets from the soul,

With a careful craft of the beat,
music is born from the art,

Therapy in psychiatry,
aesthetic in  phylosophy ,

People  love and fight,
Some just live to hate,

oppositions and dominions,
Opinions and religions,

But poetry and music lives,
lifetimes and lifetimes with love,

and nomatter the weather
it shall always bring humanity together
mannley collins Sep 2014
When I do not write poetry!
When I cant write poetry!

When all I can write is strings of meaningless associated  words
about my meaningless associated experiences
in  any of my meaningless associated lifetimes.
Spent committing meaningless associated actions.
Avoiding meaningless associated people with their
meaningless associated GroupMinds.
All meaningless without the Isness of the Universe's hand in mine.

Wandering through life with few companions.
Clad in yellow  dust.
Doing my Raja Yoga practices.
Doing my Tantric Yoga practices.
Doing my Bhakti Yoga practices.
Doing my Gnana Yoga practices.
Doing my Karma Yoga practices.
Doing my Hatha Yoga practices.

Raja Yoga.
waking--sleeping--sitting --lieing--standing--walking--running--eating--*******-swimming--r­ock climbing-trekking the  high  Himalayas---and always doing deep nasal Kriya Yoga breathing as I contemplate the passage of my days and nights and seek the answer to the eternal question of --
Who am I?.
Who am I?.
Surely not the vain and deceitful Mind?
Am I really a small but equal individual,independent,nameless,formless,genderless and non physical individual Isness formed from the Isness of the Universe?.
An individualIsness chasing after being in the
ultimate state of Separate and Merged with the Isness of the Universe.

Tantric Yoga.
Doing various sweaty and pleasure filled acts of ***  with male or female or femboy or boygirl or ******* or pansexual or anyone I fancy with a **** or a ****--and a minimum of love.
My stiff **** in a ****.
A stiff **** in my mouth.
A stiff ****  in my *******.
My stiff ****  in an *******.
*** dribbling down the inside of my legs.
*** dribbling down my chin--all over my face.
Licking wet swollen **** lips.
Licking swollen *****.
Always aiming to arouse ******--to turn on Kundalini.
To reach out and touch the hem of the Isness of the Universe's robe

Bhakti Yoga.
Singing and dancing and painting and glassperlenspiel and cooking and laughing and crying and playing----.
Saxophones and clarinets and flutes and drums and  stringed instruments and the "fool".
Especially my beloved Selmer Alto Clarinet--curved like a
serpent drunk  on life
But the greatest of my instruments is-the "fool".
Foolish for life.
Foolish for unconditional love.
Foolish for to make people laugh.
Foolish for believing that I can solve the riddle of "who am I"?.
All for the delectation of the Isness of the Universe.

Gnana Yoga.
Reading books and pamphlets and essays and sutras and suras and verses and scribbles on grubby pieces of paper.
Searching for that elusive string of associated words that tell me that an honest woman or man passed this way before me.
Not a worshipper of any "god" or "goddess" or any other Celestial being made by the Isness of the Universe to mask  its innocence.
No enlightend beings for me-oh no!.
No buddas for me-oh no!.
No beings in Gnosis for me-oh no!.
No avatars for me--oh no!
No sons or daughters of any "god" or "goddess" for me --oh no!
Just a person,*** irrelevant but compulsory, that had realised,existentially, for a brief moment that they too are a part of the essence of the Isness of the Universe.

Karma Yoga.
Every act I commit adding or subtracting from that accumulation of
Karmas,good and bad or neutral, from every lifetime I have lived.
Boy you gonna carry that weight!!.
Roll that boulder up the hill.
Only ever making Neutral Karma.
Beyond the deceptions of Duality or Non-Duality.
Neutral Karma that only arises
by practising the Six Fundamental Yogas.
But not as an obsession or a lifestyle choice.
Hey Isness of the Universe-give me a helping  hand here!

Hatha Yoga.
Keeping my current body healthy enough so I can
do all other five of the Six Fundamental Yogas.
Cooking million star meals.
No 5 star chefs in my houses.
Eating Organically and drinking water from lifes many springs.
A green leaf salad every day
Taking part in the exercise of living.
No contortions or posturing for me.
Ha! the ingoing breath.
Tha! the  outgoing breath.
Breathing set as conditioned reflex--living on automatic.
Random deep nasal breathing--waking and sleeping.
Dreaming of the Isness of the Universe.
Waking up in the Isness of the Universe's arms.
Feeling the Isness of the Universe's breath on my fevered brow.
Listening to the Isness of the Universe murmuring in a billion billion different ways--
I love you.

Hearing the Isness of the Universe say--
I breathe through your nose and lungs.
I smell through your nose.
I see through your eyes and insightfulness.
I look through your eyes.
I lick the  juice of **** or **** with your tongue.
I taste Vanilla Ice-Cream with your tongue.
I blow a wet **** or stiff **** with your mouth.
I breathe life into the Alto-Clarinet with your mouth.
I touch nakedness of others with your fingers.
I feel the Void with your fingers.
I wake into consciousness at your urgent voice.
I spring into life at your very step.
I experience all through your body.
I experience existence through your life.
I love unconditionally through being
loved unconditionally by you.
I am humble before you.
My beingness is  exalted by your humility
Your beingness is exalted by my humility.

www.thefournobletruthsrevised.co.uk
Madness Viarti Apr 2015
This one here, why I got it from a Pirate,

He stood with a peg leg and a beard full of knots,
The deck beneath him was littered with hefty dots,
A rather peculiar sight, if I was to be asked,
Which I was, and with that, this eye became glassed!

The one over there, I suppose was from that Siren,

Her skin was blue, eyes a shimmering gold,
Her chest was bare, a sight that the sailors adored to behold,
Excuse me, miss, I inclined my head, "While this is all well and pleasing,"
She clocked my tooth out, when I continued, "In this air, you must be freezing!"

Why that one there, that's from a Queen,

She stood with regal grace and beauty,
Though in my opinion, her dress and manner was rather snooty,
When asked in regards to a task appointed to me,
I informed her that if it was so important, SHE could go water the overgrown tree!

That one there, why that's from a Fairy,

It resided within a nest of glittering gems and jewels,
Each of course, lifted from some wandering fools,
Eyes gleaming with desire and greed,
I soon found those little Fairies are capable of bites to make you bleed!

Over here, you'll see it plainly, is from a Dragon,

It was a plague on the town, its wake of destruction spreading wide,
With grasping claws and snapping teeth, it gobbled up my bride,
I hunted it where it slept, and moved to strike it dead,
And with that, I lost my head!
Meg B May 2021
I must’ve known you in a past life
You feel so familiar
Even when I didn’t know that I knew you
I knew
There was something in the way
The warmth radiated from your skin
Caramel macchiato I drank you in
The baritone of your laugh
You were so familiar
Yet we had just met
Your silhouette
Was one I had seen before
But not in this lifetime
Were you mine in another one?
Slipping through my fingers like silk
Always one grasp away
But you’re never gone
The way you remain like the rain
Soaking grass in spring
And I’m thirsty for you
For endless nights talking in darkness
Till light came in again
And never running out of words
But even as we spoke it felt so deja vu
Don’t I already know you?
How do you know me so well?
Like your code is written into my cells,
I feel you on a molecular level
Your soul intertwined in mine
But never fully actualized in this timeline
Years and years come and go
But your “aww” and chuckle never fade,
I hear it like you smiled that way you do
Like it was yesterday
Time a construction that doesn’t function
In the realities in which I know you
I have known you
You’ve been mine and I yours
In lifetimes before
In present, eyes closed I manifest
My me’s and your you’s
Subconscious whispers traveling
Through time and space
Dimensions unknown
But I know
It’s you and you know
It’s me too.
Glass Mar 2019
you are unsure of the moment
of when you dreamed of cotton candy clouds and
God, asking for another chance to spiral
but you've been through lifetimes of "wonderful rehearsals of a blooming blackberry bush"
that its become revenant,
a persuasiveness of another trustful lilac that your life
will never been a desirable garden but you've found
a diagnosis to lose all the highway
sighs, "provoking the past and
present"

- G
they say there is more to learn than not.
that children are the future.
shaping young minds is
most admirable.
working through ways
for a few hours
makes up for lifetimes without.
the gift of knowledge
makes all the difference.

it is not our place to
tell them how to be.
we can only show them
for a young student who worked through his emotional attachment to a "pet bug" during recess time.

for peace in solidarity

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ojleMU9rZ4k
SC Kelley Aug 2018
You are indescribably beautiful.
More than your breathtaking smile.
Or the way you look at me with those gorgeous brown eyes.
You are beautiful in this supernatural way that makes me yearn for an explanation.

It is such a beauty that makes me feel complete.
A tremendous burst of euphoria and bliss just by the thought of you.
Your bewitching emanation that makes my soul electrify.
As if we were split in a ****** world to search for one another.

Your immense beauty that is far beyond the physical.
It makes me suffer in the most amazing way.
Forces me to watch every careful step,
To not shatter the perfection of a thousand lifetimes.

A beauty that makes the world seem brand new and brilliant.
You make the flowers bloom fuller,
The grass greener,
And the birds sing finer.

You are the deity my heart has struggled to search for,
The divinity my soul has craved,
And the magnificence I have only dreamt of.
Your presence makes this life hold a more significant meaning.

You are the loveliest being,
I have ever had the pleasure of sharing an existence with.
You cause this intoxication in my very soul,
And make my heart skip every beat in the most tremendous way.

You have brought new meaning to my life.
Things that were once a blur now makes sense.
You have given love "at first sight" a true meaning.

~S.C. Kelley
For My Future Love
Rama Krsna Aug 2019
atop
that golden haystack
mounted on an unwieldy bullock cart
you wished we had......

a regret of a million lifetimes!

every time
your plucky smile flashes
in the sacred space between brows,
i see a wish fulfilling acacia tree
nymphalid butterflies flutter in my gut
and rapid clips of lifetimes past
neatly edited,
projected as movie trailers

your deathlike silence
has quietly become my universe,
as i pen in moon-like solitude
memoirs of an unrequited love

© 2019
Dedicated to all those who’ve loved, failed and venture to retry.
Katie Eustace May 2010
You have me convinced,
Just by admitting you wonder.
A bit of you… just a little bit…
Yet still more,
Than ever I could have hoped.

Lifetimes ago, had only I known,
When I am older…
But what of now?
You're persuasive.
So much more than you know.
(c) Katie Eustace 2009
Conar McVicker Jan 2014
I awaken once more.
The loneliness of my mountain hovel a constant.
The walls embrace me in their warm silence.
The wind blows around me.
My container a bubble of stillness
Perched upon stone and earth.
With too many stories for one lifetime.

If you blink the bubble pops,
Shattering the illusion of safety and solitude.
In a second blink the perch is gone,
There is now an ocean.
Six blinks ago there was nothing.

For now i'm in between a blink and a dream,
Struggling to make sense of things
in a world where nobody closes their eyes.

Where creatures assign meaning to the meaningless.

I close my eyes.
The mind as real a world as any.
Where thoughts bring me warmth and

I listen...
Above the dull hum of electricity...
Above the whir of fans
Above the sounds of distant people whose purpose escapes me
Above the screaming of the cold wind...
Above the sirens of troubled folk...
Silence.
An inner silence.

I lie motionless
Observing.
I stare into infinity.
I open my eyes and stare into another.
My heart marks time to a third.

With this i'm reminded of my luck.
What a perspective I'm allowed!
From here alone I bare witness to three infinities.

Among these I die endlessly,
and am born again.
I smile at the thought of myself smiling,
Living lifetimes between breaths.
I carried life yet did not live
until, from blood and darkness came
a light that only God could give
from sacrificial flesh and pain.

For broken nights and restive days
of drifting into starry skies
hours, weeks, lifetimes I’d stay
daydreaming in your onyx eyes.

To look upon my face in prayer
with worship in your smile so pure
as if the holy land was here
in my arms forevermore.
Verdae Geissler Jun 2013
I met a girl when she picked me up while  I was hitch hiking back from the health food store.

Her name is, well, I’ll call her “Mirror”. She was seventeen, with three different colors in her hair,and she was driving this great big mafioso looking thing down an old country road.

AND she picked me, a hitch hiker, up. like it was it was no big thing to her.

My first response after the normal howdy do’s, was;” Okay, first off, we are on this desolate back road, in the middle of BFE ,and corn fields forever. How do you know that I am not going to pull out a gun or a knife and slit your throat, or blow you away for your ride, or WORSE?”

She snickered and said,”Cause’ I can tell .”You aren’t that kind of person!”

My responsewas ,”How can you even  pretend to know THAT?”

She comes back with; “I can just tell”!

“Anyway, aren’t you glad I picked you up?’

“Of course!” I said, “but you need to be more careful!”

She dropped me at my house, and that was that.

I was left with hoards of memories sweeping my mind. Memories of myself at her age, along with her responses to my concern, and her total disposition, I knew I was staring into a mirror of my past!

I would, for sure, be seeing her again!

It was approx. two weeks later that I saw her, in a little mustang, as I was walking my dog on that same old road.

She pulled of as she turned the stereo down, I think it was blasting some new girl band, “Hey girlfriend” she says with this sweet little sideways glance, as if she’d known me for a lifetime, “whatcha up to?”

Having done the small talk thing, we decided ot hang out.
So she came over to the house, we talked.
As I got to know her situation a bit better, I knew.
... I was looking into the mirror of my past once more.
I had been placed into her life for a very special mission.

I also knew in my heart that, according to what she was telling me, she was headed for the same path of disaster and destruction, I had, not so long ago, put my own self  through.
It had all started at her exact age. but I did not, at this point know what to do about helping her.
...But it would come! ...yes, it would!

I found out, a little more than a year later, i could not have done anything to stop it from happening, when I met her. ...In her beginning...
It was during the “aftermath” or the “beginning of the end”, where I would be called back into her life to “play my part” so to speak.
So...
It was about a month ago, I just happened to be browsing through a thrift store, in Spruce Pine, with my neighbor. As I stood there, looking at an old quilt I wanted, but could not afford, I heard that  soft, sweet, little voice call me by my name.

”Romy?’ “Is that yooouuuu?!”
“*** I can’t believe it!”,
.....and so on and so forth.

My sweet friend from the road by my house, was there, was handing out Krispy Kreme doughnuts.

Mind you, I knew what this meant...
...She’d gotten herself into some kind of trouble.
And now, she was doing community service for it.

Sure enough she had.

I gave her my  telephone number, and that was that.

It was about three days ago when I got a phone call.
It was her.
She asked if she could come by to see me that afternoon, after school.
She needed to talk.
She actually did come on by.

Here we are some years later. I am scared.
Not for myself , physically, but something told me my time was up.
The gig was up.
The angels had finally found a way.
For me.
For her.

Now.
I need to back up to two years ago, so that you can get a real sense
of what is really going on here…..

After our first meeting, after she came back by my trailer,  in the cow pasture, the first time,
She hung with me the whole summer, and then into fall.
I got to know her parents very well.
I n their eyes I'd become a big sister/baby sitter for her.
She thought of it as just hanging out.
...a place away from her Dad, but close to her home.
She had never been with a boy, she explained,
but she'd made an attempt at a relationship with a girl at school, which turned out disastrous.
It even landed here in trouble at school, with the cops, and with the DSS, here in Yancey County.
(a place no one would ever want to land!)

Her mom was going through chemo and radiation, and so was I.
I was uncanny.
I had at least SOMETZHING, one thing, in common with almost every member of her family.
I became part of her family!

I knew from my own life and my experiences,  
she was dabbling in some kind of drug activity.
I just did not know what at first.

Made myself a promise.
I would find out what was really going on with t his girl.

Once I got her to open up to me.
I discovered she was stealing her dad’s 40mg Oxycontin and his 1mg klonapin out of his locked box.
This only AFTER he'd been giving them to her when she turned fourteen.
She was not only snorting them, but she was selling them as well!

I also did some digging, and found, she was getting in with some pretty savory characters.
Of course it wan't long, before she met this guy...
He was handsome, manipulative, and cunning.
But most of all, he had a raging monkey, the size of Detroit, on his back!

Only I could see him for the ****** ******* he really was.
I tried many tricks to expose him.
Her partents were blinded by his enamering.
His story was easy:
..he had been in the military, only to come home to a trailer trash wife, on drugs, of course, who had neglected their four year old child.
He'd come home just in time to play the knight in all his armour....!
I KNEW better!

But when I tried to warn her parents
they would hear nothing of it!
They refused to see in him
the evil that i could....

So when she started seeing him, I went to her parents with my premonitions.
They told me I was over  reacting.
And that i had become attached to their daughter, that I should just stay away for a while.
Her mom’s exact words were:
”I mean really, Romy...
" He is a MARINE for goodness sakes... !"
"... and the only reason he is home right now, is to save that yungin' from his drug addicted mother!”

UGHHHHHHHHHHHH!

I had to let go....

Only years later, it would come out,
To her parents and everyone.
...He was a **** and dilaudid ******.
His mother was one, as well.
They used the little boy for food and money,
as well as their own selfish adgenda of feeding
that monkey from Detroit,
and the disease he brought with him.
They conned everyone from welfare, to  churches, to the department of Social Services.

I remember a conversation a had with her mom, while trying to get her to realize what he really was.
It went like this:
mom: “How could you even say such things about him!”
I never said another word.
Only
In my mind I was screaming;
"Because I know this *******!
He is addicted to drugs!  
He told me so, in the beginning!
He bragged to me about how he’d been doing dilaudid with his MOTHER for years.
And, all  of us junkies know, the only way to do dilaudid, is to shoot it up in your veins!

"*******!”"
I said to myself.

"PLUS, I even know his  other name."
"THE NAME is Daniel!"

"I know him well!"
"I ruined most of my young life trying to win his love."
"Only I did not know then what  I was up against...."
"This addiction was more powerful than another woman, or anything else, for that matter!"

"There IS no match
  for it!"

...I was screaming this all to myself.
...I knew then.
I was talking about my own life experience.
The years I spen, hurting myself, all the while attempting to impress my first, and truest love of my entire life.
He almost proved to be the ruin of me!
...The man on whom I waisted more than half of my life!
He, who became the beginning of my end!
He was the beginning of a lifetime of  ****** addiction, tears, disappointments, lies, and horror!

As I saw it, he and this ******* were one in the same.

More importantly, I also knew, in my heart of hearts, he would be the beginning of  HER end.
He would prove to be the beginning of her  horror.
I also knew, if she were to end up staying with this nobody *******, for any length of time, she would, inevitebly begin sticking needles in her arms.
My bet would be she'd start within one year.

Sadly,  I was correct.
she was,
and had been,
sticking needles in her arm.

The way I found out went down like this:
(and thus my reason for writing this)

She phoned me, upset, and crying.
Don't ask me how, but I knew she was dope sick.
...Perhaps it was the quiver in her voice.
The desperation.
A feeling I knew all too well.

I told her to come over.
She did.
I'll never forget.
She was working at Mc Donald's, to pay her way through cosmetolegy school.
So she still had that Mc Donald's uniform on. (The one, I knew, she loathed with every part of her being!)
And bless her heart...
...She brought me a pie.

I told her she looked like ****.
Then I asked her to explain why she'd gone so long without having any contact with me.
(although I knew the answers to each of my questions, I asked them anyway.)

I gave her motherly/sisterly hugs, while attemting to make her feel loved.
(something she had not experienced often, at least, not without a price!)

I needed her to know, that no matter what she had to offer , for the time I hadn't heard from her, I would love her, and I would help her, and I would hold her, until she needed me to let go.

So.
It was after hugs, love, some understanding eye contact, I made the promise of understanding. She had to know, that  no matter what she might reveal, I would ALWAYS be in her corner. I would always be hers. I would be whatever she needed me to be.
..As long as I was helping her towards her self understanding,  towards love, and  towards happiness.

It was a few seconds after our long embrace and our moment of connection and understanding, when she took me into the bathroom.
She uttered these words, nervously, and with shame;
”Romy, Do you really want to know how bad I've gotten, how far I have now fallen?”
...Or perhaps her words were, in actuallity, more like "Romy, look at how bad this has gotten."
I am not sure which of the two is more correct, but I got the message loud and clear, and my heart broke.
Litererally, it broke into a million pieces.
My heart broke for her, but it also broke for the girl I once was, before my own demons came to visit.

I knew then, from the depths of my being,
how the scene would play out...
I knew the ending,
before it ever began.

In a moment I will share with you, the dialog that went on between us on that cold, cloudy, winter afternoon in Nowheresville, NC.
This is one conversation I shall, forever, remember until I take my final breath.
It will remain with me through lifetimes to come.
...It has become a part of me.

ME: ”So. have you learned how to do yourself?”
“Or is that why you are here?”
"If it  is the later, you've come to the wrong place."

She started to cry.

"I know how to hit myslef", she said.
H uge tears runnig down her face.
"You warned me, Romy." "And I didn't listen."
"How DID you know, anyway?"

I could not hold back the tears.  
They poured straight from the depths of my being.
Again, he I stood, once again, in front this georgous girl, who was destroying herself!
Again, all I could see was myself in the mirror!

I have yet to felt such a sadness within me, as the one I felt at that moment.

As she rolled up her sleeve, there it was...
a site too familiar..
Uncanny, it was.
How could this girl be the SAME?
Seriously!
...The same arm.
...The same hole.
...The same sore.
...The same color.
..The same sad and bewidered expresion.
It said. No, it screamed;
"Help me please! I'm so ******* gone!"
"Help me please!"
" You're all I've got!"

I wanted to turn and run a fast and far as I could get.
Heer she stood in front of me
Here she stood.
The exact ******* same as me.
I couldn't move.
I couldn't think.
I wanted to puke.
She
was
MEEEE!

The silence was broken by her voice, and by her expression.
She obviously saw my transition from a strong woman who cared so much,
into a womean who had turned white as a ghost.
Then she asked;
” How did you know, Romy?”
“How ever COULD you have known?”

I did not.
I could not.
Begin to answer her then.

But I thought to myself;
"How could I not?"

I left that tiny bathroom not knowing WHAT to do, or what to say.
I, for once,was at a loss.
For the first time in my life,
the words  would just not come!

I couldn't speak my usual words of incourgment.

Until she came to me, and gave me a hug.

...she has just left my house.
My heart is heavy.
She'd  come to me today, for reasons,
she herself,
could never have understood.

I went into my bedroom, whee she sat.
I asked her what she'd been up to that made her decide to call me.
She said she did not know.
She'd been out driving after work,
and so she'd just ended up calling.
Now she was at my place.

I shared with her the importance of truthfulness.
With oneself even more than with others.

Then I shared with her my story, and my reasons for caring so very much for  her well being.

I told her about the mirror I saw between us from the beginning.
..of my battle with herion addiction.
But I told her  also of the stubborn dream I'd carried with me for eighteen years because of a guy, just like hers.
I answered all of her questions.
I completed her sentences.
She completed some of mine.
I felt her heart breaking.
And I helped her to let go.

She was so shocked at what I shared with her, about myself,
and about my own life,
that it  literally brought her back to her self. I had somehow, reached her inner being.
She was able to return to her own reality, away from the deceit.
And away from the web of lies which had been woven around her.

I feel good!
I feel like she will be alright.

May hope is, through me, she was able to see how easily we can fall into someone else's need and addiction. How we make it our own by allowing someone elses demons drag us down, down into oblivion, and how their misery can, so easily, consume us. Then take over our very life!
IF we let it!

....I held her for a long time.
We cried together.
I cried for her.

I also cried for me.

I cried for the girl that I once was.

...Before Daniel.
                              ...Before Manhattan.
                                                      ­                                                
                                                                ­       ...Before the misery.

She cried her own tears for herself,
her kind heart,
and for what would never be.
She cried, grateful tears, knowing now she will no tso easily loss her way,
she knows the angels now. She can feel them guide her every day.
She is not alone.

I will forever be there for her.
wherever she may be.
...we are connected now.
...Little Miss Kim and me!

Her spirit is strong.
She will succeed.
She recieved what she needed most.
... A friend
... A kindred spirit.
...and  a bit of wisdom from little old
me.
Oh, and now I know why my Blackie walked me down the old country road.....
My sister, Kimberly, needed me!
Izzy May 2017
My soul longs for all the lives I've lived
Lifetimes ago I was someone different

Maybe once long ago, riches draped from the curves of my being
Maybe whiskey graced my lips far to often
Maybe smoke stained my lungs
Maybe my feet touched mountains
Maybe in a life long ago, my figure was shrouded in darkness
Maybe it was helpless
            or not, maybe it was a warrior, hard and sharp and deadly
Maybe my back was once adorned with wings
Maybe satin dripped from my lips
Maybe symbols littered by skin
Maybe my name was death,
                                       chaos,
                                       mercy,
                                       life
Maybe I died for love
                        for war
                        for a cause

I have lived many lives
                      and I long for them all
My soul longs for its place, its home
            a home that I have no memory of

I am filled with an unyielding ache for things I know nothing of

My ears long for words from worlds long ago
My skin craves the ink that once ran from my fingers so freely
My hands ache to dig into the earth to which they have been a stranger to for so long
My skin aches for the long forgotten bite of steel that was once so familiar  

I am homesick for places that have never been my home,
My soul is cursed to spend its eternity searching for its place.
(But I have found solace in your arm)
annh Jun 2019
It was going to be the trip of a lifetime. Sydney, Cairo, Constantinople, maybe even Jerusalem if there was time and breath left in us. We came from the far-flung reaches of the earth to the bustling capitals of the Middle East. Just me, my good mates -  Blue, Grim and his cousin Frank - our chaperone Sergeant Major O’Donnell, and 1,500 other lads of the 1st Australian Light Horse Brigade.

Frank copped it at Gallipoli, never even set foot on the beach. I left him screaming on the metal deck of the landing craft awash with ***** and blood as he watched his innards unfurl. ****** oath, they stunk! Like ten-day-old snags left out in the Adelaide sun. His Mum always said she’d have his guts for garters if he enlisted underage. I reckon she’d never use that expression again. She was a nice lady too, that Mrs Gibson.

Tell me, fair dinkum, what do 18-year-old, daring-do dreamers from Parramatta know of the chain of high command, a war of geopolitical strategy and stiff upper lips. The bewhiskered gentlemen who manoeuvre their pieces in imperial map rooms will live to fight another day, and yet hold their fallen troops accountable for the unpredictable tides of history.

Grim took Frank’s death hard. From that day on his war was one explosive suicide mission. In the end, he walked into a spray of Turkish gunpowder at Chunuk Bair. The Distinguished Conduct Medal he earned that day sits on my mantelpiece beside a photo of the four of us at Giza. His sister Molly, my dear sweet Molly, turned out to be the love of my life. Funny how that happens - the threads that hold us together, the ties that bind brothers, the strangers who become our saviours.

The sergeant major succumbed to typhoid fever in Palestine and that left Blue and me. We sit and remember. We laugh at the horror during the day and shiver in our beds at night. We wage war with ourselves, our choices, our victories and defeats. We marvel at the world and the territorial ambition of nations, shake our heads at the repetition of dumb history, and raise our wavering fists to those same men in their ivory towers. It’s in all the newspapers that the Vietnam conflict is this generation’s Dardanelles Campaign. ‘A vain and protracted engagement fought in a topographically hostile arena with disproportionate loss of life’ is what I read. Yet wonder of wonders, a Yank - Blue knows his name...but I forget...Neville Someone - walked on the moon last month. Do y’reckon we helped to make that happen? Four cobbers from New South Wales, who had a knack with horseflesh and a taste for kangaroo feathers, on an adventure which spanned more lifetimes than I could ever have imagined.
The 1st Australian Light Horse Brigade was a mounted infantry brigade of the First Australian Imperial Force, which served in the Middle Eastern theatre of World War I. During the Gallipoli offensive, the brigade served in the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps (ANZAC). After being withdrawn to Egypt, they took part in the Sinai and Palestine Campaign until their disbandment after the end of the war in 1919. [Wikipedia]

Cobbers - friends
Fair dinkum - true, no *******
Kangaroo feathers - the distinctive emu feather plume which adorned the slouch hats of the AIF light horsemen. So named as a practical joke by the cocky troopers themselves.
Snags - sausages
I am a teenage girl
I don't go outside much
But I workout
I teach myself in online courses
I spend a lot of time on World of Warcraft
I'm in love with someone much older than me
I feel like I've known him for a 3 lifetimes, not just 3 years
I believe the human spirit is a powerful thing made of light and darkness
I'm a submissive at heart
And I believe in true love

So that's me.
Ellie Phant Jun 2021
My eyes shined like diamonds,
and my hair was longer and stronger than rope.

“One day,” I would say,
“I’m gonna grow it out down to my knees.”

Lifetimes like mine have given me knowledge that my skin is solid
and my soul is tough,
but I want to FEEL it.
Daniello Mar 2012
We slump on the couch when we return like lifetimes
have passed before us.
We have to, even though it was only a seven minute walk
to the dining hall, because 1) the food was just
“weird consistency”
(which we tend to say regardless), 2) the light
in there yawned indifferently to us (when does it not?), and
3) the reassuring clink of our forks on our
plates wasn’t even there this time it was
hiding underneath slop
and smothered on top by the intruding sound waves
(who asked?)
of our next-table neighbors’ lives.

You made a sly remark about seconds to catch
a glimpse of youthful ****.
She’d gone to get some more baby carrots and cucumber slices
to put in her salad maybe
(who knows? who cares?)
Either way, her youthful **** would make the food taste like
something to you. And you
described them to us when you sat down again so
the slop would taste like something to us
(there’s pride in that type of generosity, don’t forget) and

(congratulations)

we had the faint impression of
some sort of
****** there, but

we didn’t tell you
(it’s easier that way).

A cup, a squeeze, a kiss on her ******* yes that could feed
our hunger for a night. And tonight was a night
like any, so her ******* led us to talk

of women, and women led us to talk of
love
(and the blooming one for the poor *******)
as we who lost withstood the vicarious twinge of
an addling ****** very different from
the first.

This one led us to pine for sweets, but the ones we found
were dry, so we left the table, left the dining hall, looking around at
the others: the lonely, the couples, the blessed
lonely couples, and the fortunate friends
huddled against everything with open laughter, enjoying
the weird consistency like drunk theoretical physicists before
they discovered bubbles and inflated eternally meaning
when they safeguarded a
zoo with a pistol they didn’t know how to
use, in Soviet Russia.

(So you see?) We have to slump on the couch
when we return like lifetimes  
have passed before us.
No one even bothers to pick up a guitar, we leave all four of them
strewn on the floor like
dead wooden boxes because
Dylan or Young or Cash (or whoever)
is already in the living
room. Any
bubbling, inflating, theoretical physicist
(any drunk, pistol-packing zookeeper, for that matter) will
tell you that.

So we slump, comfortably uncomfortable,
(at least we’re trying!)
feeling their (our) strings plucking. No sounds, no voices.
Because we don’t need
to hear this that.
Not right
now. (Not right
now).
Danny S Nov 2012
Hello.
A turn of the head,
Lips parting in an easy smile,
And eyes,
Reaching up to meet you
Masterfully sizing my new opponent
While giving nothing away.

Secretly,
I let every sense indulge
In you. Each tiny receptor
Seeking your aura,
While images of
Conscious-losing pleasure
Flash casually
In my mind.

Outwardly,
Nothing has happened.
The energy undulating almost
Visibly between us—it must be
In your head.
You are granted no sign of my attraction,
No idea of the power you
Hold over me.
I give you no mercy.
I’m sorry darling, I know,
Teasing is cruel,
But very necessary, for nothing
Evokes sweet satisfaction like
A juicy bite of forbidden
Fruit, after lifetimes of
Starvation.

Without hesitation, I will deny you
Until you are weak, until
You overdose on desire and
Anticipation, for
I see who you are.
The universe has brought you to me,
To torture me, to
Challenge me. A worthy
Match against forces backed
By the Gods.
Together, we can soar to
The cascading highs
Of transcendent pleasure.

Challenge me.
Mysidian Bard Aug 2016
Let's roll on like gypsies fly
Pack our things and say goodbye
Time is short so lets make haste
Let's roll on without a trace

Let's roll on across the plains
Making love and daisy chains
See the world as it was meant to be
Let's roll on until we're free

In our lifetimes
We walk such a thin line
We have such a short time
Before we are gone
Let's roll on

Lets roll on across the sands
Travel to a distant land
Settle down and plant a tree
See what it will grow to be

In our lifetimes
We walk such a thin line
We have such a short time
Before we are gone
Let's roll on

Let's roll on a simple prayer
On the wind and through the air
And when we're tired and hopes are meek
May we find the lives we seek

In our lifetimes
We walk such a thin line
We have such a short time
Before we are gone

If there's reason
To live through the heartaches
To learn from the mistakes
And see the next dawn
Let's roll on
SC Kelley Aug 2018
People write such cliche poems.

True love that goes on for lifetimes.

A gray city in the rain, colored only by the music of life.

Hot coffee entrenching the soul with warmth in the crisp autumn.

The perfect snowflake landing on the nose of his winter angel.

The smell of northern pines after a heavy storm.

Her unparalleled footprints in the sand with each angelic step.

Tailgate stargazing on an ideal summer night, hands intertwined.

But isn't that what poetry is all about?

The most heartfelt descriptions about the broadest of beautiful moments?

~S.C. Kelley
For those who write, feel, and everything else
Lyss Brianne Mar 2021
I have always been weary
of putting names in my poems
in fear that I will never be able to take
my confessions back
but when is a good day to tell you
that I have loved you in every lifetime

In the past we were entangled in each other

One life we were shooting stars
another we laid lazily in fields of wildflowers
a love too strong to explain through words
so we didn’t speak
instead you embodied the beauty of spring
a way to remind us of those April days
when nothing existed outside of each other

We hid our love behind buttercups and daisies
maybe that’s why I love to bring you flowers
to feel the flicker of a spark we shared
in a lifetime so long ago

In another lifetime we read quietly together
over coffee in smoky French cafe’s
we underlined passages
that we would read each other in secret
our love withstanding a time
when it was criminal to look at one another
with the type of love we shared

I don’t know if I have ever loved you loudly
there are no muscle memories
of me shouting your name from rooftops
or unapologetically holding your hand
without fear of repercussions
—even now I don’t know how to form the words
“I love you”
without looking around to see who’s listening
even after all this time I love you in secret
I still can’t put your name in my poems
but i promise in one of our lifetimes
I’ll write your name in every poem
and tell you that I’m in love with you out loud
someday the words
won’t feel stuck in my throat
but I hope that’s in a lifetime sooner than later
That touch that surrounds
My heart, my head, my body, my soul
That touch that makes me laugh,
awkwardly,
at everything and nothing,
both at the same time,
in a space where there is no time -

That touch that penetrates lifetimes,
and squeezes the cord of metamorphic sky
screaming "I don't want to die"
but no matter how hard I try,
I know there's no place to hide,
Life is death, as death is Life

And that Touch -
That touch I've known for many many lifetimes before
And many many lifetimes to come
That touch, that touch that makes me want to cry
That touch that soothes my worried mind
The touch that gives me the light of sight and a love so kind

That touch, dreaming backwards,
Through possible pre-time times,
Remembering how to fly
And how to always let go -
For nothing is forever,
nothing but the earth and sky -
matter and space
Balance
Tao
Save the human race
Go now

Touch the World
Kevin Eli Dec 2012
I find the tragedies of people so heartbreaking. Addiction is misunderstood, and this has become my understanding.

I realize that this disease is not about drugs. Drugs are only a symptom of addiction or the "ism". Some people do drugs, while others collect things, suffer endlessly in painful relationships, others obsess over things they cannot control.

The real beginnings of many of our problems comes from far back in our lives starting with childhood and upbringing. We are told that we are expected to be a certain way and that we must follow the examples of others. Even though we should believe that adults that abuse us are wrong, we internalize it and find it to be our faults. “What did I do wrong? I shouldn't have done that. I must do better next time.” I have looked inside of myself and translated that this life terrorizing issue is hard to understand, yet simple.

We have a personality we have grown up with and created. An ego represented by coats of armor that we put on. We put on a new layer of armor each time we are hurt or learn a lesson. Eventually these suits of armor start to get so heavy, we cannot move, we cannot breathe. We try to walk around and be true to ourselves but our defenses make it nearly impossible. We only want people to see what we let them to and tell our true nature to shut up. We think our true selves aren't enough to be loved and isn't worth showing people. We become ashamed of what we actually are underneath. Our Egocentricity takes over and creates that facade we want people to see.

There are several walls we must break down in order to free ourselves of the thousands of layers of armor we put on over our lifetimes. We have the first wall: our personality we present to others. We must know it and see ourselves for what we actually are. There is nothing wrong with you. You are a wonderful human being that is deserving of everything life has to offer. The second wall is the big brute who bullies you at any cost to keep himself alive: Self-hate. It is your greatest critic, your manipulator, and your source of evil. You must look at your self-hate as a black dog behind you that is always barking, looking for attention, undisciplined and untrained. Wild, vicious and dangerous, it will do anything to get what it wants from you and does not love you. It will beg and give you those puppy eyes, but it is always lying to get what it wants... In front of you is another dog. Your true self. It is a little puppy that has not been nurtured or given attention in a long time. This puppy does not bark, it does not cry. It just wants your unconditional love as it has for you.

You must not ignore the black dog behind you. It must be stared straight in the face and you must say NO. This is where the last wall and line of defense against your true nature and love for yourself hides: Fear. You are afraid that this desperate black dog will bite you when it doesn't get what it wants. It will bark so loud you cannot hear anything and you are afraid of being ripped apart and die if you do not give it what it needs. Yet, this dog has a hidden chain attached to it you have never seen or knew about before. It cannot get to you if you don't let it near you. You must make the deep and soul searching decision through great fear and with courage to never give this dog what it wants again...
Turn your eyes forward...

See the little puppy in front of you? It looks at you with those big eyes filled with the desire for you to love it and take care of it. That puppy is you... Don’t be afraid of the work it takes to raise that puppy, because it will grow up slowly yet surely and be your undying companion; always guiding you to the happiness you deserve. Give it some water, some food, your love and take it on walks.
This is you. This is your puppy. If you can learn to love this puppy and nurture it, you will have found you love yourself. When you can love yourself, you can then love another...
The suits of armor come off and you can finally move away from that black dog behind you forever. The love you found will flow into you. You will be able to live with freedom, unchained from your self-hate and fears. Nobody can say you are a bad person anymore. You have taken such good care of that puppy that you don’t need anybody's approval. Your own puppy is happy, and he loves you unconditionally. It is unconditional love for yourself.

Everybody has this armor on and everybody has different weights on their shoulders. It is up to you to decide when to break free. I will pray for you all in the mean time. Please pray for yourself and others.
And as you do, remember to love freely.
C Dec 2017
and if this lifetime
is not for us
i swear
i will search for you
in every other lifetime
and perhaps in one of them
i am yours
and you are finally mine

— The End —