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D L Smith Aug 2016
"Here he lies." The priest almost cries.

The crowd they sway with the sadness.

"I dream alone." Says the Queen on her own.

Their small world trembles in the madness.

Not a word can be heard, a silence over the village.

Not a sound can be made, people wonder if they will pillage.

Deep inside they cry with fear, because their King is no longer near.

The hush that is upon their land.

So soft, un heard, the last bit of hope.

It died within the King's hand.

D. L. Smith 8/25/2016
Shofi Ahmed Jul 2018
Dancing the billow in the sea
the cool one will show up
in no time with love.
Deep down from the deep
with the flute on the lips.

Listen to the flute!
The chorus clouds bang out
floating by the river blue,
they sing down the sky as they move.

The sun draws in
from the secret valley
ambling with the wonder light
as if it, the punter sun, in the sky
knew it, knows the flutist arty
rose from down the sea!

Every planet is a flying bee
twirling around the inner music
nothing ever stops in the solar disc.

The waning and waxing Moon
in silhouette and at half-light
swings over the sea full of life.

It all starts from the ground;
it was from our sea waterfront
Him the creative sweetheart in the midst
floated the leading light the bumblebee.
All the stars bubble in the galaxy
they know this ancient story!

Since then the brightest bulb
the sun in the solar ring  
leads the bunch’s mindful
butterfly dance on the way home.
Following the enduring haunting melody
of the pre-design command ‘qun’ be!
A poem from my upcoming book Qun: Love is Unconditional
sara Dec 2018
I’ve never heard this song before
as flowers come out of the floorboards;
I forget what my heart had ever been sore for.
life is as light as you let it be- a difficult pill to swallow sometimes
Tommy Randell Nov 2017
Some say the world is People
Some say the world is trees
For some it is the oceans
And they should be plastic free

Some say their cause is climate
For some it's Poverty
Most would argue Love not War
Would bring us all to Peace

Of course the riddle is an old one
To ponder as we please
If we have the time at all
Between toil and family

But time IS of our making
We should force ourselves to be
In the moment every moment
Alive within Humanity
Alive with Love and clarity
And then all the world's causes
Would be who we can be

+tmy+ 5th November 2017
Be grateful for even the little things in life that as people we just seem to overlook. Ya know after all you were able to wake up, get up, take a deep breathe and feel that cool breeze hitting your face. Taking in all your surroundings. Enjoying the sun rays hitting your skin, or that cold glass of water you drink that makes you feel so good because you feel that coolness throughout your body. Always remember to smile because smiling is what relaxes your whole face and happens to change your mood.
polyratic Jun 2018
Attempts to make
Meticulous marvels
Molded from mountains
Mindful of the minds
That mind it
My mind whenever I attempt any project.
Eleni Jul 6
Lately,
I think of words as air
That chant sparks into flames.

Violent pyres- if you abuse.
Or a tamed Medusa- if you peruse.

Surely,
It would put the mind at ease
To expire and water these flames.

A warning, nay comes with a beacon
Intuition with your saliva may weaken.
Ken Pepiton Oct 2018
God's thoughts are claimed unthinkable
correctly by a man, but there is a way

a man
may,
however,
imagine he can. Amen. Amen?

Higher than the earth,
above all we can think or ask,
God's thoughts are said to be,
yond all a man can imagine.

Yet I do, imagine God thinks, if anything, at all.

In my thought, a child emerges in the midst,
thinking round and round,
up and down, this way and that

what if
some how, we think, this child in me,
and I , we think

Off the tight line from here to there,
God's thoughts must be
every where
we can think,

tighter

up and down and all around,
through solid ground and
non-empty space.

Minds are bubbles, let us say,
God's thought are not up above us
exceeding both our reach and grasp.

but nearer, being here, in the bubble
where we live, and move, and have our

being.

Seeing the never hidden
is not revelation,

it is ignorance, ceasing.

Peace,
be with us, everyone.

Time shall tell if this fixed that.
Ignoring innocence, I sense signals seeming meaningful minding my manner of thinking. It keeps me from shouting at fools who ignore the music and deny the harmony we bring to every discordant resonance. I edit this to be the first of my 2018 holiday amuse meants intending to instill joy to the world. That's the big idea.
Vii HunniD May 2018
Have you ever been
Touched gently,
Kissed sweetly and softly,
To make you think is it reality...?
Deep down I felt
Your voice kissing my soul slowly
As you pronounced words.

Have you ever glanced
To the stars at night
And asked yourself,
How could there been i and u
But their so many alphabets inbetween
And wish u and i are always together,
As it is on your keyboard?
Brynn S Dec 2018
Have you ever watched the stars fall from your eyes?
Not many have, it’s a terror that masks itself as blue
Once the stars fall they reveal the darkness beneath
The absolute
That’s what I call it, it’s an immenant force awoken by madness
It exhumes itself from a dusted space and collects the spare thoughts
It feeds on my lungs, it rips pieces of my soul
Dragging them down to the plunging tides to be washed and preserved into a formulation of unbridled torment
I have not the slightest to why my heart beats in two awful tones
Maybe it’s the excitement, maybe the moans
I need not worry for breath falls short
I always reconcile back to the night it made itself known
A dwelling creature beneath my stomach
Risen from the ashes and buried in self pity
The sad clown of desire without as much as a tear I stood there petrifical in glances
Watching the bottom of the glass come closer, it snuck up on me as it’s fragments plunged into my chest and brought with it the terror
Frozen in silence I heard only the wails of my lungs
zm Nov 2018
I wish to have a simple life
one where my emotions are seldom
and thought is limited to happy things

I wish that my short life
be hidden in the crowd
and tucked away

for I wish not to live
within the four walls
of my broken mind

z.m.
Vii HunniD Apr 2018
Merging Quantums, Quarks and Quarks,
Watch Vii Paint Pristine Pictures,
It's never Equivocation,
How Peripheral...,
Ain't it Quaint?
Ain't it quaint?
jerelii Jun 2018
To love one’s self
To accept her flaws instead of thinking out why she’s helpless
Know that you are amazing
in you; you can find love
when you treat yourself better
you also treat yourself with the
love and care you deserve
Know that you are stronger
than any storms
and that we all
have different battles that we are facing
in our life everyday
But know that we can get through this
And learn to be mindful with the present
And step by step
begin to be grateful for yourself,
for the air that you breathe, for the food that you eat,
for the people that loves you,
for the nature that nourish
you to flourish.
And be your kind of love
because you do this for yourself
to accept, to love,
and to embrace who you are
because you deserve
the right treatment
to be your own uniqueness.
6.12.18

be your love
give and recieve love from yourself
because we need the right proper care and love
that we also owe to ourselves
because we sometimes forget to do this things from ourselves. Self-love is important
to give to yourself.

be kinder than to feel.


p.s
you deserve a treat of love & care
from you <3
Nahal Jul 28
Shut your eyes.
He's late, surprise surprise.

Try to pray.
He's gone how many days?

Breathe and meditate.
Forget the date.

Walk slow and observe.
Is he what I deserve?

Don't think about reality.
Did he make a pass at me?

Heart rate drop.
Arrive at the shop.

Think deeply.
Shop cheaply.

Peace within.
Put out the bins.

Be present.
Feeling really absent.

Speak gentle.
Am I mental?

Spiritual.
Experienced through material.
somewhere between the fourth and fifth

load of laundry,

sometime after breakfast~lunch,
now served in the USA at home,
as an all day meal, per the edict of Mcdonalds,
start fixing dinner, take a break, walk to the mailbox,
retrieve the post and quick retreat back inside,
ah that Texas sun, bilingual chili hot,
toss the unopened on the prior weeks pile,
cause everyone loves company

the home-cold-brewed ice coffee needs a filling
for the fridge has decided not to help
by automatically refilling the pitcher

even if it could
I, busy folding,
needing two hands
and all my teeth
for folding my master’s rocket ship

sheets

my master observes with one of his alternating demeanors,
this one, super silent watching, announcing that  I need a nap:

“don't you always say, baby,
take a nap when you can, baby,
for when you need one, baby,
you probably won’t be able, my baby”


with selected-hand-led fingers,
he lays me down to sleep,
bids me to slow slide to dreamland, dinner will keep,
curling inside my frame, hands a-cupping my *******,  
telling me a drowsy tale, inherited from his mother’s womb
and his granddaddy’s tongue, mindful of his family’s history

there, is where, they find us,
dinner fixings burnt,
me and my five year old baby boy,
still sleeping fast, around 5pm, bodies enwrapped,
tied by blood and entwined in old nursery rhymes,
Texas tall tales of Pecos Bill,
me and my very own

nap-ster master

<•>

p.s.  and they call me by my other name to wake me, momma
Jesse stillwater Aug 2018
Driving up mountain miles
of washboard switchbacks;
jarring the dusty rearview mirror
in my mind:

"but don't look back in anger"  
... I heard you say
stuck in the cloud of dust
befogging my daydream
back somewhere thereabouts
the washed out bridge
that tore us apart
like a flash flood

It was so long ago
since you were running
and I was hiding in plain sight,
from what the storm
in my eyes did tell

Mindful — you were only watching
the growing distance gather;

finding what you didn't lose
looking back to see
   what you can't forget —

like a hesitant child
reluctantly wondering
if anyone was still looking back
at you ―  still running away
from each passing storm


Jesse Stillwater
June   2018
Thank you for reading my soul scribbles
Sara Kellie Mar 16
I forgot how to cry.
Like the porcelain doll
in a white summer dress.
But just like it, I couldn't care less

Nor could I care more,
It was just too much.

My once teary eyes were useless.
My mind was blind.
Until I learned to love a little deeper.

I would never find, . . .
. . . me.

Poetry by Kaydee.
A lesson self taught
through darkened distraught.
Jesse stillwater Aug 2018
Out here in the fields of the distance
whither the wind blows the silence further afield;
roughhewn footprints show a windswept pathway  
from whence feral feet lightly trod   

Only the passing whispers chase after the gypsy wind:
that the silence be in quire, placed aloft like a sigh,
pealing through the gentle sway of sweet grass' hush

There are no walls need echo an evanescent wind-song
as each breath of earthen psalm vanishes
lilting into the crystalline quietude colour;

The callused patience still held in these hands
is frayed and tattered, but hope heals stronger
than a ream of paper wings to fly away

And I'm mindful I'm not alone again, lost in
a lingering silent storm — pensively listening —
enraptured aneath all the big skies hold
 

                    Jesse Stillwater
Thank you for reading: Out here in the distance
Tanya Feb 7
I’ve always been mindful of
the food that enters my body.

Perhaps,
I should have read the label
before consuming Your lies.


kevin hamilton Dec 2017
captive audience listening
to the hornets pouring out of me
i was running fingers
listlessly down your face
and dreaming of acid rain
—a picture in my head
that refused to die

ever mindful
of the bedroom door
hinging on your aches
and unborn eyes
the reanimated heart
chimed
and i saw distorted visions
of what awaits us all

a rising overture
from behind the veil
warm, wet handed
in a bath of blood
KiraLili Dec 2015
Careful on choices
Mercury rises retrograde
Be mindful the pull
Shofi Ahmed Nov 2018
There is a six seasonal turf on earth.
it isn't an acre of Moon truly an earthly Skookum.
A land so unique is written in stone
as if the enduring heavenly dew
streamed down on this patch of land!

Meet here the open future shows up at the earth's
hub-moon's anew rallying to the untouching-sea
the Indian subcontinent's corner to the ancient wind!

Naturally a hidden gem its in her element.
Her very soil the complete colour wheel matches
The birthplace of the great prophet Muhammad (PBUH)!
Destined to be the golden cut above the rest.
Amusing the heaps of the mindful minds
Sylhet stands on cloud nine eye to eye with
the pivotal soil of Makkah the centre of the earth!

Ah, the deep footed earth how mystique black
beneath it every morning the sun off the heaven’s hill
spreads a new diaphanous gold-light-rug, yet to paint
a footprint, a colourless magic, let alone the centrepiece!
Listen to the morning birds sing here deep in the midst
mellifluous-shrills fill the air unveiling the dream scenes!

The times anew numerating the bounties of our land.
Craving to sip in a dew-potion on our blossoming rose
cirrus clouds dancing over the seven seas here they drop!
Banish the midday blues singing the deep sea’s song.

Nestled amidst the Rivers Surma, Kushiara and Monu
Perched on the shades of the trees each one is a canvas.
Glows with changing Bangladesh's unique six seasons
as they swing and leap in the branches of the trees
and murmur with the upstream and the autumnal breeze.

Stunned angels on their way heaven taking one more
sunset potted in the starry bowl look back at the wee hours.
They can hear pianissimo on this shrouded perennial land.
It never falls asleep is awake with a numerically perfect
circle of 360 spiritual dynamos from the centre they hailed
with a handful of earth and lived here as it matched.    

A deep seeded truth, rock solid Shilahatta in Sanskrit.
Clothed in an enduring vesture minted Sylhet loops in
with the Hebrew Bible’s Shalet, a ruler, a shield!  

The ****** earth sways moulds into a mole.
Ah, the little drops make the mighty ocean.
And with a single word on the lips
the maestros’ great epics begin to be told.
Just with a mundane handful of earth
Primed Sylhet masterpiece begins to unfold.
Keeping you on board with the whole ball of wax
lo, it unveils the mirror of the face of the earth!

Plopped still in the inside track amidst the full show
with the whole nine yards on her least hold!
Believe it or not Sylhet is cherry-picked chosen by God!
The subject matter is about a land possessing a deeply seeded truth. The prime significance of which is its scattered afar but matches the pivotal soil of the centre of the earth!
Vii HunniD Nov 2018
To the extant,
That love is an expression,
Of familia any over time,
My excess to infinity time lines
Precludes in excessive of a time line...
shamamama May 27
Pull the weeds, plant the seeds
this is what the garden said

choose what stays
choose what goes

be mindful when you do

the silver oaks darken the sun in the mind
trim the trunks, so light may you find

the bindweed traps the heart
clip the vine, free the art

the poison oak stings your delicate hand
let the goats eat these weeds right off the land

the pompous grass clouds the soul in your eyes
pluck these weeds before they set and rise

the deadweed piles darken your spirit
compost the weeds, lighten your merit

plant the seeds of love, hope and color
water with nourishment, fertilize with wonder
and you will warm the heart of another

and then,

begin again,

pull the weeds
plant the seeds
I feel like my garden has been talking to my soul and I want to share the conversation.
Kerli Tulva Sep 13
As the heart fills with knowledge,
rising from the profound wiseness
of the world's hidden pouches,
the light strikes sharp in the eyes,
as the calmness comes into the soul
which fills quietly like the rising sea,
and the sunset changes into sunrise.
Vii HunniD Nov 2018
On some mental shish,
Some hyper bolictime chamber shish,
Working out, unpreferred peripherals.
How quaint thinking hyperbolic thoughts,
Translation, non-medicinal words got me hollering...

"Cacophony cosmic cluster concussions"

Thinking sarcastically recklessly on a regular,
Causing mental anguish when thought of.
Deb Jones Jan 2018
Living in the moment
Being mindful
Taking each minute at a time
Being present
Putting down whatever I am doing
When someone is talking to me
Or needs me.
Especially a child
I am making memories
They will remember later on
Especially that they were loved
The sweet sound of a child’s laugher
The music of my life
Closing my eyes and soaking it in
Pretend to be shopping
As a child laughs in another aisle
It seems rare nowadays
The hurried frazzling hustle and bustle
Laugh with your babies
Give them your time
They will return it 10 fold to you someday
Talk about your dreams
Ask them about theirs
Tell them stories
Read them a book
Love them freely
Don’t feel constrained
If they want to go shopping with you in a princess dress and clacking in princess shoes...
Let them
Don’t answer “No” because it’s easier
Listen to their reasons and give them permission
Don’t ever let them forget
You love them
Not for a minute
Not even for a minute
Kathryn Heim Apr 2016
Where is your faith
in this world gone awry?
It got lost
in translation
between you and I.
Words we hear and words we say
set their sights on
mindful play,
and everything that
we are taught
merges with our
worldly thought.
That is why
the Savior said
heed my words upon your hearts,
for that is where my kingdom starts.
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