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Krizhe Ming Sep 2018
Everything begins
As a blank slate
Just so is Life

Like an artwork or a masterpiece
Magnificient as it is
Like a poem or love song
Beautiful as it is
Begins in a blank slate
Just so is Life

With perfect melody
Of personalities and experiences
Variety of tunes
Of knowledge and skills
Colors burst in each blank of slate

Magnificient
Beautiful
Life will be
Tabula rasa, usually translated as 'blank slate' is a philosophical concept that means when a person is born, his mind is completely empty.
Francie Lynch Oct 2016
In a museum, or forgotten barn,
A small red twelve inch two wheeler
Hangs on invisible wires,
Or is covered in pigeon droppings and dust.
But Tannehill rode it once,
Like something in a dream.
He was too long-framed for it.
He controlled it, rounded the corner,
Pedalling hard down the sidewalk,
Across the street from our new house.
I gawked from the front yard:
He was a boy with his bike,
Like The ****** on T.V.
It was the first I learned to ride,
And the falls were magnificient,
On grass or asphalt.
Girls' bikes were easy,
One size fits all.
Then I learned to pedal
Beneath the cross bar of the big boys'.
Push the pedals,
Shift the midrift, and be gone.
Always from somewhere
To somewhere else,
Far from the soft front lawn.
"Leave It to ******:" "And Jerry Mathers, as the ******."
Shiv Pratap Pal May 2019
Timbeck Tyu,  Timbeck Tyu
Great City Timbeck Tyu

Coloured Walls Nicely Painted
Arts and Drawing Everywhere

Artifacts on every crossing
People's representatives feel like king

Magnificient buildings here and there
Bridges and flyover everywhere

Toll tax booth here and there
Statues standing everywhere

Banners hanging here and there
Hoardings, posters everywhere

Malls and Hotels here and there
Dance Bars and Casinos everywhere

Citizens always in Crisis
Struggling with poverty

Economical condition bad
Politicians has gone mad

Nationalism in Slogans
Here and there hooligans

Real nationalist are renamed
They are called anti-nationals

Corruption is on the peak
You need license to speak

Crowd imposes censorship
System respects the crowd

Mouse catches the Crow
Everything on the show

Real news not covered
Real issues are untouched

Fake news are implanted
Press and Media on sale

Laws are being twisted
Burden of proof shifted

Culprits are honoured
Innocents are hanged

Farmers are in debts
Their families are starving

They can't even pay their loans
Neither Principal nor interest

They either commit suicide
or land in jail for not paying loans

Hospital competing with hotels
Doctors busy in making money

Patients treatment is on Sale
Get cured only if you pay

Stray Animals on the rise
What you can do if you cry?

Black money in circulation
White money is called pollution

Rapes, Murders and theft on rise
Law and order is on the papers

Lawyers are with Politicians
Politicians are with Criminals

Criminals are with the Police
Police is with the Capitalists

Only the God is with the victims
That too only, if he really exists

Population almost exploding
Environment full of pollution

Fights and quarrels here and there
Religion and faith always on stake

Caste and Classes everywhere
Race and Religion everywhere

Common people struggling for food
Saints consuming wine and drugs

Rallies and protests uprising
The system has turned deaf

Goddess of law weeping and bleeding
Judges busy in process law and rules

Timbeck Tyu,  Timbeck Tyu
Such a great city Timbeck Tyu

Have you liked Timbeck Tyu?
Want to live in Timbeck Tyu?

If you liked, Timbeck Tyu
Want to live in Timbeck Tyu

First apply for passport in your country
Then apply for visa from Timbeck Tyu

Hurry Up, Hurry Up, don't be late
Visa's are limited so take care
Have a glimpse of this great city. Have you ever heard of such city having similar features?
Now that people are becoming more aware of my poetic efforts, interests are being expressed regarding the background of my poetry - in addition, to my spiritual muse. One never knows exactly when the Spirit of God will move on your soul; fortunately I was paying a little bit of attention, one cold winter night...

I've been a member of the IT (Information Technology) community since June of 1981, a profession that constantly tries to turn you into a slave from an employee. Rarely did I ever bring home work; sometimes it was unavoidable, given arbitrary deadlines and poor managerial planning. After dinner on this particular night, I had spread out the pages of computer 'source code' across the entire kitchen table, while attempting to solve a logic problem. ('Source Code' is the logic written by a computer programmer, in a given computer language, that addresses a specific business function. The term is equivalent to a computer 'program'.)

Once I had spent roughly 90 minutes struggling to solve the issue at hand, I treated myself to a mental break. I noticed the gentle reflection of moonlight on the window and decided that I would step outside onto my breezeway for some fresh air. The evening sky that night was a magnificient sight, like many other times. Absent were the visible presence of clouds and the stars seemed noticeably brighter. Taking in this grand view, I let my mind wander, temporarily forgetting about the thousand lines of computer code awaiting me. Gazing upwards, I was quietly reminded of God's promise to Abraham - that his offspring would be as numerous as the stars. I also contemplated why God had designed the heavens to demonstrate His existence.

When the coldness of the winter night started to permeate my body, it was time to terminate my break. Stepping back into my warm home, my brain was re-energized and thankful for the brief, mental hiatus. Trying to re-focus on my work became difficult, as phrases of poem snippets bombarded my soul as "shooting stars". I had been writing haikus and senryus for several years, but not 'traditional' poetry. So to move on, I grabbed a blank piece of paper and started writing, capturing the poem's concept. At the time, I did not recognize or fully appreciate what had transpired. This was my first non-haiku poem written by me; it would be over a year later before I thought to publish my first book.

Having taken the time to compose this poem, I was blessed by God, for taking time to honor Him. Less than ten minutes later, I solved the problem and enjoyed immense relief; plus I got to spend quality time for the rest of the night with my wife. In addition, I completed my project deadline to my boss' delight and surprise.
To sit back, and behold the universe, she of old
her magnificence dwarfed, by only her silence
a cold calm it is, a true death to fantasies
to her is anger unknown, and pretense a disease
she makes no claims, of a past of yore
no books, no bones, no ancient folklore
She is at once wide awake, and in a deep sleep
but she has no dreams, just stars in streams
Millions of burning giants, tumbling around in a race
thrown apart and hurtling radiantly through space
But even with vast and glorious citizens
naively do we pretend a grasp of her essence
some content to accuse a creator for her presence
she treats our illusions with no derision
she destroys with ease, what took her millenia to create
but nothing is destroyed, just reshaped, in a new fate
a picture of modesty is the Universe so immense
she abhors all show, avoids all pretense
not a word does she speak, nor a glance too intense
She feigns no knowledge of her timeless existence
Often does one wonder, what plans she foments
but she has no motive, nor desires that her torment
All one can truly say, is that she feels no bias
She wanted to see herself, so she tried us.
But here we sit in arrogance, calling her just a creation
when what she really is, is endless, an eternal congregation
of stars and novas and pulsars and a billion others
She invites us to look, to look ever further
to see the nothing, and the everything all together.
I am the Universe, and the Universe is me.
Ishita Oct 2015
She walks in her own charm
Aware of the world brewing past her
She fought,and is still fighting.
The clicking of her high heels,
Echoing with magnificient confidence
To him who in the love of Nature holds
Communion with her visible forms, she speaks
A various language; for his gayer hours
She has a voice of gladness, and a smile
And eloquence of beauty, and she glides
Into his darker musings, with a mild
And healing sympathy, that steals away
Their sharpness, ere he is aware. When thoughts
Of the last bitter hour come like a blight
Over thy spirit, and sad images
Of the stern agony, and shroud, and pall,
And breathless darkness, and the narrow house,
Make thee to shudder, and grow sick at heart;--
Go forth, under the open sky, and list
To Nature's teachings, while from all around--
Earth and her waters, and the depths of air--
Comes a still voice--Yet a few days, and thee
The all-beholding sun shall see no more
In all his course; nor yet in the cold ground,
Where thy pale form was laid, with many tears,
Nor in the embrace of ocean, shall exist
Thy image. Earth, that nourished thee, shall claim
Thy growth, to be resolved to earth again,
And, lost each human trace, surrendering up
Thine individual being, shalt thou go
To mix for ever with the elements,
To be a brother to the insensible rock
And to the sluggish clod, which the rude swain
Turns with his share, and treads upon. The oak
Shall send his roots abroad, and pierce thy mould.

   Yet not to thine eternal resting-place
Shalt thou retire alone, nor couldst thou wish
Couch more magnificient. Thou shalt lie down
With patriarchs of the infant world--with kings,
The powerful of the earth--the wise, the good
Fair forms, and hoary seers of ages past,
All in one mighty sepulchre. The hills
Rock-ribbed and ancient as the sun,--the vales
Stretching in pensive quietness between;
The venerable woods--rivers that move
In majesty, and the complaining brooks
That make the meadow green; and, poured round all,
Old Ocean's gray and melancholy waste,--
Are but the solemn decorations all
Of the great tomb of man. The golden sun,
The planets, all the infinite host of heaven,
Are shining on the sad abodes of death,
Through the still lapse of ages. All that tread
The globe are but a handful to the tribes
That slumber in its *****.--Take the wings
Of morning, pierce the Barcan wilderness,
Or lose thyself in the continuous woods
Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound,
Save his own dashings--yet the dead are there:
And millions in those solitudes, since first
The flight of years began, have laid them down
In their last sleep--the dead reign there alone.
So shalt thou rest, and what if thou withdraw
In silence from the living, and no friend
Take note of thy departure? All that breathe
Will share thy destiny. The gay will laugh
When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care
Plod on, and each one as before will chase
His favorite phantom; yet all these shall leave
Their mirth and their employments, and shall come
And make their bed with thee. As the long train
Of ages glide away, the sons of men,
The youth in life's green spring, and he who goes
In the full strength of years, matron and maid,
The speechless babe, and the gray-headed man--
Shall one by one be gathered to thy side
By those, who in their turn shall follow them.

   So live, and when thy summons comes to join
The innumerable caravan, which moves
To that mysterious realm, where each shall take
His chamber in the silent halls of death,
Thou go not, like a quarry-slave at night,
Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed
By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave,
Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch
About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.
Lost for words Jul 2010
"Boo"
The echo of you is in my mind
My gigantic, magnificient friend
Who society left behind...

What made you? Why did you?
How could you not know?
How much we all need you -
Did we not let it show?
Did you not see the love
In the smiles you grew?
If I could go back...
If you only knew.

That dark, lonely morning
You felt so alone
No one to rest with
No one to phone
The thought leaves me cold
And so angry with you
If I could go back...
If you only knew.

I see you at night,
Dancing and smoking
I know any day
You'll tell us you're joking
Back with a bang
In a nightclub queue
If I could go back, Olly,
If only you knew.
Cee Valenso Nov 2014
My beloved, believe me when I say you are beautiful
Like how I do whenever you whisper the same to me
We are beautiful, and our love is as beautiful as the word's best definition could ever be
There is beauty in the way our eyes resemble hopeful sunrises
As we gaze into the hollows of each other's soul
In the way our softest kisses spark the most brilliant fireworks in the firmament
In the way the intertwining of our fingers
Commence a massive stampede in the still jungles of our hearts
We are beautiful, my love, we truly are
But we are beautiful stars tremendously shining that cannot be in the same constellation
Our lips are the dulcet melody of an orchestra but the composer wrote us in different music sheets
We are both pieces of a magnificient puzzle but not adjacent ones; our edges do not coincide
Beautiful is how we worship the same sun and perform parallel rituals
Though I realized that we are but ethereal planets bound to our own inescapable orbits
Our corporal entities are home to various innumerable celestial bodies
I have enough proof to say we are galaxies with feet in this incessantly expanding universe
Listen to me love, when I say you are beautiful and so am I
Heed me when I say we are beautiful but we must face the reality
We are as beautiful as we could ever be but our proximity does not yield the same result
Remember that every sunrise will set at a certain time of a wonderful day
That no fireworks display are tattooed on the sky's flesh
That no explosion of resplendent colors remain, that it is a fireworks' nature to disintegrate
And the aftermath of stampedes is just unimaginable
I may not be an astronomer but I have witnessed each of us turn to neutron stars
And two neutron stars cannot occupy the same space, especially collide
The composer's judgment cannot be questioned
For the composer knows the best music shall be produced if we are not played simultaneously
There's a reason why the planets are crafted as they are, why galaxies must stand alone
So for the last time, I will tell you, that you are beautiful my love
You are beautiful as you are, and yes, the same applies to me
Our love is beautiful, as beautiful as its best definition could ever be
But there are things we cannot change, things that we cannot control
Perhaps we can be try to be beautiful together in the next eternity
Little Bear Jun 2016
King of the park is my little paper lion
he struts his stuff like he owns the world
prowls and growls
rubbing and snubbing
while he eats from is little pink bowl
But he is KING!!
king in his own back yard
his eyes amber and black
as he stealthily creeps
beautifully lean
prowling unseen
dangerously mean
ever so fluffy
and oh so virile
so powerful too
leaving his mark
rubbing the bark
so very King!
'So watch me human,
watch me be magnificent
as i pounce on this butterfly'

"yes.. you are a magnificient derp nugget"
Oh but he does have a nasty streak
attack and retreat
spitting and clawing
meowing and mawing
as his grey fur stands on end
and bristles
like a bottle brush
and the lazy lion thing
is lazily lounging
after a busy night on the town
spreading his affection
in every direction
he is now king of the chair
king of the cushion
he is declared triumphantly
throughout the land
fanfare please
"THE SOFA KING .. all hail the SOFA KING!"(annoying feline)
oh dear.. my little paper lion..
believing he is king
king of the jungle
'But i am king!
aren't i human?
okay well,
just of the park maybe
but i am a little bit king- ish.... aren't i?'
silly little pouty McWhiskerface
what a pity
fluffy little kitty
just make your self pretty
pouting and sulking
"Now that is no way for a king to behave
now let me fluff your cushion
*while you drink your milk and eat your Dreamies"
If you have a cat you will understand :o3
Haha i have no idea where i was going with this, some of it rhymes, some of it doesn't.. bit of a mess really..oh well.
But it is all completely how our cats are..
our little paper lions... :o)
shadow girl Aug 2014
Waking up in dreamland and seeing all these magnificient things
White horses galloping round and round in a circle
Unusual pink sharks swimming about in the ocean
Teeny tiny peope living in cute small homes
A nice big garden with the most colourful and beautiful flowers
Waiting to be picked
A lighthouse out in the middlle of nowhere
Francie Lynch Sep 2015
I am a cliche poet.
I compare most of your parts
To the cosmos;
I refer to love as immortal,
The soul as ethereal,
The spirit as bird-like,
Death as a cave, surely dark and lonely,
And nature has a magnificient part
With all its pathetic fallacies,
Sunrises, sunsets, tides.
I once compared a man's legs
To an aerial roadmap,
And a ***** to a bull frog
In the Savanah.
O, the crosses I've borne to explain saying
I love you
Without sounding trite.
I may resort to prose
And dress up the poetric mantra.
samiksha Apr 2013
the silent night out there,
was making a call...

come baby feel the glory of the night,
the beautiful silent night...

me so desperate to feel it,
i get in my sandals n go for a walk...

with slow music in my ears..
feeling the magnificient silence..

i hear a voice right behind me..
ignoring it m making my walk

i find myself surrounded by few guys..
what happend in a second i couldn't recollect..

i tried my best getting out n craving for help..
but to my bad der was no1 our there..

i jus find myself to b torn apart..
hurt brutally.. molested very hard..

i lie down there at the corner of the road..
jus thinking was it my mistake of stepping out?..

y oh mother nature did u make me a gal??..
i have no freedom o right...

was it my mistake of letting all d restrictions go
trying to fly like a free bird...

or was it my fate that took me here...
my destiny that made me get this... :(
Kenny Whiting Oct 2017
My eyes behold a masterpiece, 
   each time I see your face;
My mind goes numb, with thoughts of you,
    my heart picks up its pace.

So beautiful you are to me,
   quite gorgeous out and in;
Since every time you cross my mind,
   I fall for you again.

Magnificient and magical, 
   an angel you must be;
You're Heaven sent by God Himself,
   a gift from Him to me!

So when you think some other way,
   or feel a twinge of doubt;
Remember this, my angel eyes,
   your beauty screams out loud.

You're beautiful, magnificient,
   more like a masterpiece;
A perfect blend of gorgeous face
   and precious inner peace.
When you come to know a gorgeous person, you realize beauty is truly NOT skin deep. The truest beauty is an inner peace and affection beyond words! Let someone know today how beautiful they are!!
shadow girl Feb 2015
Sitting under a nice shady tree
Hearing nothing but quietness
Trying to clear my mind off everything
Looking at the different types of rock
Concentrating on the magnificient sight surrounding me
The waves that you see
Absolutely no noise
This is one place where i could never leave
Sitting here keeps me calm and helps me to easily clear my mind
I could even live out here
Being here makes me feel happy
It opens up a world that i had never been to before
Looking at my surroundings helps to take my stress away
I could spend all my free time out here
ponny jo Oct 2013
walking so fervently i stalk as i talk
weaving webs of decptions to those i mock
listening for the howling that with my madness
comes. searching for feeling that out my
numbness rubs. id like to say im beyond
greed, my soul ever searching for completion
no the lights flicker in my minds eye.
over realities to my self i constantly lie.
as i relax the colors show through
a strobe of splendors with no absolute
hue. slashes and shapes with magnificient
gapes, pull back the drapes, dont let in the shapes.
abyss so wonderful, a lava lamp beautiful
a lament to archangels, my curses rued by
dark and frilly, lacy things. leather to measure
the desire of pleasure about to gain mould, a
tether by masters controlling desperate hold.
the light my bane, id run if able, to escape
the one true god, so bashfully i fear, as
changes the year, and sprinkles a tear on ground
no sound found, forever bound to this mound, hear.
Solaces Jun 2014
The Lancer:  Life Lancer...
The final sweep through this once dead planet is done..  
This is my favorite part about this job..
I land in a desert lifeless, golden sand mixed with black..
This wasteland will come to life..
I look to the sky and see life reborn..
It starts with a magnificient spirial of colors as the atmoshere begins to awake..
I stand in the sand and watch this world come to life..
The first storm is on the horizon..
Deep blues among deep blues I swear the sky is the ocean..
All colors of lightning begin to arc the dead away..
The entire planet is quickly engulfed in the Ultra storm..
I can feel the planet smile again..
LIFE has become the apocalypse for the apocalypse..
Its time to leave..
L  A  N  C  E  R
Leila Valencia Nov 2015
Her golden hair, her eyes were wide and her ears were open
I'm going to tell you she was a beauty
A magnificient vacation from your walls of pressure and hatred
A nice getaway in your moments of need

But only when you saw that your needs needed to be met. You thought to say hello, and stop by for a while.
She was still listening with her ears open, eyes wider, legs apart when she sat, and hair golden as the sun.
Only when she wasnt looking you looked for another vacation in an abandoned warehouse where you could easily store away the evidence.

Her hair was always in her face, but after you learned the shape of her hand, you painted it along side your hip, as she swayed back and forth she started to see the  smoke in your eyes.
Her eyes squinted, her hair was a little bit frizzy, and her body was stiffer.
She smelt a different vacation on his back.
She started to feel his hand slide down her - she obliged as she turned her cheek to the wall

Days turned into storms their little island was beginning to sink
She was Circulating, desperately trying to decode him - but she felt the concrete thicken her stance.
The mirror yelled at her thighs and she started to cut her plates in half
The mirror yelled at her hair so she dyed it in black
The mirror yelled at her eyes so she drenched them in black

The next morning her nightmere wasnt gone she saw him and he saw her
He was confused but she was more so.
He looked at her, without a single word pushed her in his car
He legs were so  locked together he had to get a wrench to pry them open, her eyes lifeless, her hair fried  with chemicals - with this gaunt, lifeless, hallow expression she felt numb to the bone, but be was in paradise.

The prickles were stabs to her, his body was suffocating hers - she was paralyzed. He was controling everything he was shocking her body.
"Get off!" "Stop please Stop!" She screamed for mercy and with every gulp,  fear  surged through her body. His paradise was transforming into a tornado - he tried to lock her away in the basement. He put her hands over her mouth "Shhhh keep quiet, just let the storm blow over."

She could feel his pulse, aggression was what the smoke was made out of.

He contained her
Silenced Her
And after he broke through, and completed

She started to weep, and he fell on top of her.

When she woke up, she got out of the car, walked to the ocean
She saw a tiny little island
Closed her eyes
Dove in, and forever there may she stay.
A teenager Lust and Love going in the wrong Direction
timi adebisi Jan 2015
Exploding into the air
With sporadic beauty
Sparkling lights everywhere,
so many to gaze at
I am struck once again
like every unfolding eve
By the magnificient beauty
of this gigantic display of awe
But this time around
it's not in the air
Utterly silent, yet gripping
Darkness is still shattered
and the beauty more glorious.
It is right before my eyes
as I behold yours.
I see another kind of fireworks
.........My fireworks.
Je t'aime beaucoup Magda
littlebrush Aug 2019
maybe if I close my eyes,
if I stop thinking
Maybe the world will stop turning with me,
like a friend

And in this magnificient pause,
in that glorious stop,

maybe we’ll breathe.
Ronald Ferreira May 2014
Crimson skies dwell above
A caliginous passanger to her allurment,
Her coarse body intertwined with the jagged thorns of a rose, reaching toward every vulnerable crevice.

Yet she stands ***** in her solitude,
Her beauty only amplified by the scars left from years of desolation.

She hides behind her labyrinth
A deceitful shelter from the elements

I journey through her path stumbling through the endless dark

occasionally I find myself aching from the pain as though I can no longer Travel through her unblazed path.

I only pray that one day I can Set my eyes upon her magnificient figure.

To see past her concrete walls and hold my Venus torment in all her pain and suffering.
Anna Banasiak May 2019
Wings of the Wasp

Is it possible to change into a wasp and fly away into the world of dreams? Małgosia sometimes played with children in the courtyard, but on the swing in her garden she loved to follow the land of imagination. Dad displayed her films on the wall. The heroes of tales were her real friends. She found in books life on the other side…
Through the open window were flying intrusive insects. One of them fell into her ear. She woke up and wiped her eyes from astonishment. The room was swaying like a boat immersed in the sea. Pirate ships were swimming around. The girl looked at the picture hanging on the wall, it  changed into a red bird in a flash. She wanted to get up and go for a walk with the dog, but she felt that something strange is happening. Can that be that she slept in dad’s shaggy jumper? She looked in the mirror and remained speechless. She was all hairy and wings were sprouting from the back. Woven from dreams they were glittering similar to the cloth from which she sewed dresses for dolls. She touched them to feel if they are real. In a moment she lifted up, happy. She has always dreamt about flying. It is surely a dream. Mum’s scarf was fluttering from a wardrobe. Setter in dad’s riding boots entered the room.
-I won’t go to the park like an ordinary dog. I want to know Your world. Maybe we will go the amusement park?-she said with an Irish accent.
The girl couldn’t take a breath. Her pet, beloved cuddly toy spoke with a human voice.
-Altunia! Come here, I’ll comb You.
-Talk to me Alti, that’s how I have written in the family tree. I’m an aristocrat. You can make me an exquisite breakfast, this time I’ll eat bacon and eggs with You at the table and don’t pet me without my permission.
-I’m glad that I can talk with You. I’ve always wanted to know what You feel.
I think that You don’t understand dogs. We’re the most sensitive creatures in the world. You can talk with me, because You’ve changed into a wasp in a wonderful way…
She looked in the mirror and she couldn’t believe. She was an insect. She had antennae, bug eyes and abdomen.
She looked out of the window. Trams were flying at the city like dragonflies. Computers and smartphones conquered the streets. Police dogs were directing traffic. The world was light and colourful like painted with multi-coloured pencils. From huge hands growing from the earth like trees doors were opening, birds were flying from them. Suddenly she heard a strange patter. To her astonishment she saw the most incredible species of dinosaurs which she lately saw in the children coloring book. They were eating leaves from the trees and were talking with people about the construction of a new world. Lego bricks came to life, old ages started to mingle with the present time. Knights on dragons were entering the house, pirates ships were built with the high-speed hovercrafts. Małgosia moved her wings and suddenly she found herself in the familiar place. But it wasn’t similar to her kind-hearted kindergarten. It was rebuilt into a space ship. The most incredible creatures lived there.People-Insects and doggy cats were teaching children alphabet and pronunciation, flowers were quarreling in English about the place in the main alley, lamps were perfecting image showing in the best light. She lifted up over the earth. She could fly higher than eagles and planes. She watched a new world from the bird’s eye view: auto-dragonflies, glidery birds and parroty drones.
Suddenly the storm broke. The lightings changed children room into a huge eye of the cyclone. Red, golden, orange birds circled over the house. They flew from the lost planet of eternal happiness.
Wasps in suits were singing the music of Michael from The Jackson Five. They were playing football with Tsubasa. The world was suspended in the colours of the rainbow. The rain of sweets fell into the earth. Irysy and krówki conquered the milky way. Televisions jibber-jabbered at the table, computers advertised “Prince Polo” around. You could see in them how the world would be in a thousand years time and how it was before Christ.
The world was light as a soap bubble. It was flying higher and higher.
-If You’ll be dilligent and You’ll read a lot of books You’ ll meet a nice surprise.
-What ? I can’t wait!
- I’ll take You to a place which once exists and once doesn’t exist.
She jumped with joy. She moved her wings and flew away with her setter to a mysterious land where the river of caramel flowed, houses, schools and kindergartens were built from wafers and gingerbreads and icicles of Italian ice-cream were hanging down from the roofs.
-Look out! If you taste these sweets the land will melt away.
-They look so delicious, that I can’t hold back.
-In grown up life you’ll have to deny yourself not once.
Ms. Pear went in hand with Mr. Apple to the garden over which hanged the cloud of whipped cream. In this land everyone was long-living. They didn’t know troubles and suffering. The King Honey First ruled there, taught his minions goodness, tolerance and wisdom.
-O! If only on Earth it was so beautiful…
-It is only so in the fairy tales.
-You said that imagination has a great power.
-In the world where you are everything is possible. Look only in the mirror.
She looked in the grandmother’s mirror. She saw a train going into the past, inside chairs seemed to look at her with little gray eyes, oranges were dancing like oriental dancers, still life was coming down from the old pictures and as a living wandered in the corridor of the rushing vehicle. Birds settled down in the antique clock, the dog wagged his tail at them, books told forgotten stories. Two frogs jumped to the room croacking that they’re princesses from the green kingdom.
The room went green taking the form of a shaking jelly. You could jump on it like on the trampoline with the ever growing group of royal frogs, walk through the walls and closed doors. It was infinitely incredible.
-Great…I can walk through the walls, I don’t need windows and doors.
-The world belongs to you princess!
Everything is so soft like a chewing gum, objects extend.
-If You want, you can take something to your hand and form something new, only use imagination.
The girl took a piece of picture and formed a flower, she didn’t like it, so she changed it into a bird. In a flash she taught him how to fly using a sign language. Perfect play, better than old origami!
-And now I’ll show You a trick possible only in the Land of Wasps.
They sat in the children bed which at once started to fly.
-We’ll fly into the future.
They got in and glided twenty years ahead. The girl saw herself with the children at the blackboard. She was teaching English preschoolers. She had home and a happy family. She was writing tales about her experiences from childhood.
Suddenly time twirled. The house lifted up and started to rush nowhere.
-In the Land of Wasps every sorrow can be changed into a joy.
-And now I’ll show you a trick possible only in the Land of Wasps.
-I think that this book is wiser more than one sage.
-From now You will always be happy.


Flowery People

Małgosia suddenly found herself in the flowery world cracking from the excess of colours, shapes, voices, thoughts and prejudices. She tasted life with all senses like a well-baked mum’s cake. She was listening more and more to the huge ear of the flowery world. Something started to rattle. Blurred memories, whispers and voices were coming from inside, flooded with light, saturated with colours.
Faces were moving and restless. She was running losing herself, opening pages of the new events, but everything became for her blurry, reality seemed to be inaccessible. She had to pretend that she understands the world of talking birds and insects, but it was too much for her. She walked slowly in the crowd and in the dazzling brightness of the cars, like a little lonely ant and she didn’t feel the part of the surrounding reality. She prefered to look and taste the beauty of the drop of a dew, changing move of face, mimicry, to listen to the whirr of existence.
Flowery People and Insect-People were in great friendship. In this land the sun was always shinning, no one was sad and didn’t know what evil was. Flowery creatures have never been ill, they lived long and happily. The world was an eternal play of imagination.
-O, if only Earth was such a beautiful, paradise garden.
-Suffering is needed.
-Why?
- For people to appreciate more its absence.
Flowery world had one weakness. It existed only when it was dry and hot. With the rain of tears the garden melted and disappeared.
-As you can see goodness and health are fragile.
-What can we do to save them?
-Do good, respect health.


Pigeonholed

Drawery People full of thoughts and memories were the separated world. There were the corners of existence going to infinity. This interior, the richness of colours, shapes and voices made Małgosia into astonishment. She stood close to the coral time which resembled foamed sea hiding its mysteries. She wanted to get inside, but it was inaccessible for her. Drawery people were still searching the stairs leading to the interior. In their kingdom everything was blurring, losing shapes and names. Life played with death, it was music and her echo.
They walked with difficulty, jamed, hiding fears, they were like unwritten pages of the books. Closed they came to life, when someone opened the drawer. Cities were built inside where kings and ordinary people lived. You only had to look inside and small kingdoms, empires and civilizations arised. Pages of the exercise-book were changing into planes and pencils into ballet dancers.
-Don’t touch them, because they’re so fragile that they will break in a moment. Like corals strung on a thread. That’s life of the pigeonholed people.
-I’d like to talk with them.
-Before You have to learn their language.
-The whole world separates us.
-Look out when you clean the desk, pencil case and school accessories, you can hurt its being. Every object has a soul, you have to only learn to see and hear them, not only think about yourself. Pens changed suddenly into the army of soldiers, they started to fight with the sharpeners. She found a sentence on the desk: “fulfill your dreams”. In every drawer a new dream was waiting and a new world to discover, you had to only find the key and the door to the most magnificient tale was opening. In the first drawer she saw little people, everything was diminished there. You had to tiptoe not to afraid creatures little and helpless like children. In the second drawer there was the world of giants, in the next lived animals speaking with a human voice, in the another there were pencils changed into wizards, flying trams, glidery birds. She opened the old, creaky door.
She went to the wardrobe. She took her favourite clothes. It appeared that they could move her into the different time. Somehow she has never liked to wear dresses and tights, but she saw that after wearing them she could travel to another planet and know it inhabitants. In a new world everything was possible. It was sufficient to have a dream and furry wings took her wherever she wanted. She had to find suitable key for the magical desk. It happened that this key was learning a new word. The girl started to read more tales, dictionaries and belles-lettres because she wanted her dreams to come true.
Thanks to the wings she visited all the countries of the world. She was moving in time, she learned history, geography and literature. She discovered how big is the power of thought and imagination. She lived in the land of pure white, everything was fleeting here, it lasted only a moment and then it stopped to be. She traveled there where instead of people walked clocks in hats, they were driving cars, building new civilizations. In this place time was flowing too fast, she couldn’t keep up with him.
-I want to save him. Be always a happy child. Just like in my dreams. Why it can’t be like that?
-If you were a child, you would be really unhappy. Dreams are beautiful only for a moment, then comes reality which can be beautiful too. You only have to use imagination, change bad moments into a joy-said Irish lady.
Suddenly strong wind started to blow. It turned over the pages. In one moment the letters woke up from a dream and started to walk in the city. Some of them wanted to be free and changed into birds. It was strange to meet wandering letters in the street. Suddenly the whole world was filled with the alphabet from the tales.
-People think that they know our world, but it hides many mysteries. In every letter there is a treasure more precious than gold. Who will discover hidden meanings, will be the happiest sage-said the setter.
-Why people don’t read tales and stories, they prefer to close in the circle of computers and televisions?-asked the girl.
-It’s easier. Life written in books is more rich, but more difficult to learn.
-It’s a pity that I’m not a dog, then everything would be much easier.
-O princess, believe me, our world is more complicated than you think. Be happy that you have a loving family and a dog, the most faithful friend.
-Take me to the other land that I would tell children and grandchildren.
-Bow-wow-barked the dog and together they soared.
She landed in the country where ruled the colour blue, yellow and red. When she woke up she was in the place of eternal happiness. Adults didn’t have to go to work and children get up to school. Duties were changed into pleasure. This world was infinite, it was swimming like a river, it was swaying like a pendulum of a clock. It resembled cat’s cradle. Lakes were looking at people like the faithful river. You could see your soul in them like in the mirror.
-What is happiness?
-It’s different for everyone.
-Dogs are happy when they have treats and comfortable bedding.
-Probably we are the most happy when man likes back our fidelity and devotion.
Suddenly the drawers and wardrobes extended like telescopes, they started to look at me and smile. I was sure that they hide the stories of the past years. I learned that dresser was once a princess and coffee table the knight in the Romanian chariot.
Drawery cities were flooded by the tea with lemon.
-I have to save it and clean up.
-You can do it like in life, there is always a way.
Drawery city closed and started to dream for the next years.
-Maybe it will wake up when it grows up.



On the Other side of the Mirror

Gosia remembers how she didn’t want to get out from the house of dolls and children bathtub. She imagined that she hides time to the pocket and changes its course. She was coming back to a little girl listening to her world. Every moment was filled with longing for childhood. Life was closing in the room of play. She felt like a spider tangling the net with the thread of imagination. She created new kingdoms on the pieces of paper, she rambled to the past.
She folded life in the drawers like mother clothes. Time stopped to flow then. Every word, look was a story. Moments resembled the river of her childhood where she felt safe and peaceful, she could be whatever she wanted in spite of the world. She floundered in the water like a heron, she was touching the sand soft like a dream, she was paddling, the water was still, clean like her reflection in the mirror, fear and anxieties disappeared, everything was possible, she imitated the flight of birds, she felt one of them, free and comfortable with herself. The border between childhood and adulthood didn’t exist. She could dream, she didn’t hear the voices of the street, cars rushing nowhere, there was only she and the river. She was looking with joy at the hut from the children adventures. It was built with leaves and letters of memories. She laid on the back and turned her face toward the sun. She was approaching to the footbridge taking her away from adulthood. Green waves entwined her body and soul. She wanted to spread her wings and fly away.
Mom, Dad and dog, it was all her world which provided peace. Time was playing with her, it was looking at her with a pinch of salt when she was changing into a bird, stone, river swimming to the desired goal.
Life seen through the mirror has broken to pieces.
Grown up Małgosia cleaned her room of play. She closed the drawers of the desk.
She got dressed and combed her hair on her own. She didn’t need the Land of Wasps any more…
Hira malik Feb 2019
Write
Before sunrise
Ull be fine
A reincarnation of a heart
When u just feels like a great loss
Wearing red lipstick
I keep my lips apart
Whirling in my head
Hundreds of thoughts
I as a barren parrot- land
Sing songs of urs
Of ur eulogies
How much this land barren
Needs an ale of ur magnificient eye
Raising hands with thousands of apologies...
I nest my heart up on the clouds
Those breathe my sight, those long for an insomniac eye....
Yet charisma leaves me unsight
A love to ponder, a loss to survive....

Shaken this world by trillion words
A pitcher of mine, still so much soaked in thirst...
Someday ill shout out the voice
Someday,
Someday,
Someday..!!

Hearing a thought, like a murmur in my head
I am gearing a ride, something like that
Turning around on every step
As if i have lost my mind under striking steps;just finding myself!
I wake up to a wonderful morning.
I see the magnificient green grass,
The scorching yellow sun
and the light blue sky.
and still I wonder if it is all a dream.
Mary Gay Kearns Jan 2019
My heart grows in gardens
Spread out the land
Roses magnificient
Some climbing some stand
The roses are David Austin
Cupped shaped layers of flounce
To touch they do drop
Becoming sailing craft.
The gardens are my home
Petals covering the ground
And my heart lives there
Foverver grateful for a hand.


Love Mary  xxxx
Diana Rop Jan 2019
Lets live in this moment,
Lets dance to the tune
And enjoy the moonlight
Keep those worries for tomorrow,
Lest you miss on this beautiful night.
Keep your eyes on the scenery,
The stars fighting with all their might
For their space in the sky
Lighting up our soul on their magnificient sight,
Twinkle twinkle little stars, make the sky so beautiful
And melt our hearts with  your beauty,
Making us wish that the night never ends
And Even if it does,  always smile on the imprinted scene
But Before this night ends
Lets live in this moment.
Felix Hackberry Sep 2022
the **** we doing?
I am frustrated, angry,
this wasn't how I planned it,
I was supposed to change the world,
saw all the unlogical behaviour,
the problems,
only to become one?

I turned into a poet, a writer,
to describe, change ideas of the future,
now I read back and see,
all I described was,
another beautiful night,
a cruelsome heartache,
how juniper curves, and song it sings,
have I fallen into a category,
of what I, used to loathe,
the tales are magnificient,
yet, do they tell a story,
of better tomorrow, for you, for me,
to go about?

I must search, the shadow of my roots,
escape the cage, of settled protagonist,
my heroes, past truthsayers,
look down on me now,
I will rise once again,
for liberalism!
Mary Gay Kearns Jun 2019
We are limits lost and found
Created and removed
A moment of magnificient
Beauty on the go.

Love Mary ***
Could say more but no need to. Love Mary
Zainab Ibrahim May 2020
Oh, how I adore thee!
Your luscious lips
And golden smile.

With your stunning visage,
That sets my heart aflame,
And your magnificient splendour,
You are the manifestation of beauty itself.

I adore thee to the moon and back
And with every second apart,
My heart seems to depart,
In loneliness and despair.

Oh, how I Adore thee!
My angle and my love.
Krishan Kumar May 2020
Hey, cold-blooded Mankind
Do you know
That even when there was no sign of you,
Appealing was the beauty of the Mother Earth
And fresh was the milieu.
The nature was lush green, and pleasing breeze blew
Heavenly was the sight of the sky, where birds candidly flew.
Clear were the rills and rivers, fascinating were the flowers
Animals roamed freely, and sat under bowers.
The mother nature bore things of all kinds
That you have chosen to destroy.
Mankind! Have you lost your mind?

Hey, cold blooded Mankind
Do you know
The God took His time to craft you as the finest creation
But you brought misery to the world and extreme devastation.
To all life, the Mother Earth has been so compassinate and kind
Due to your sinful passion, her health has declined.
The almighty God bestowed upon you - virtue, faith, values and joy
That you have chosen to destroy.
Mankind! Have you lost your mind?

Hey, cold blooded Mankind
Do you know
You have an insatiable desire, that is to acquire the worldly possessions
Lavish life, safe loaded with money and a magnificient mansion.
You contaminated everything, and exploited the natural resources
Now the Mother Nature is infuriated, be ready to bear up her forces.
She bore delectable fruit and vegetables, to fill your bellies
But you devoured innocent birds, insects and animals with your allies
Mankind! Have you lost your mind?

Hey, cold blooded mankind
Do you know
The Mother Nature has her own ways of reminding humankind
That she needs preservation and respect to produce pure wind.
Now pandemics and catastrophes spreading across the globe
How much worse they will become, no one knows.
Now the Mother Earth is enraged, she has just begun
To give vent to her fury and to shun human.
It's time you pondered on the devastating situation, and heed her actions
Let not contentment and greed become your distractions.
So open your eyes, Mankind! Once, and respect
the Mother Earth
Has she not provided you all that you needed since your birth?
But the harsh reality is that you have made up your mind to destroy everything. Cold blooded Mankind!
You have lost your mind.

— The End —