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SG Holter Aug 2015
Ah, this meditative combination
Of balcony summer, drinks and
Poetry.
Oh, this carefree state of mindfull
Bliss; breathing tickles.
Poetry
Was never so absolute; park trees,

City summer, green lungs of
Oslo full of air.
Seeing the bushes by the railroad,
Pieces of nature
Peeping through
The cracks of civilization, taking
Control of city people's hearts.

Flowers dancing shamelessly
*******, swaying in breezes of the
Kind that picks up the heat from
Sunshine-warm streets and
Hugs you with it;
Rubs it all over you
Like a lap dancing angel.

Ah, to live is to meditate.
Late summer, August ablaze.
Weekend era; aeon of freedom.
As at home as any
Norwegian in
Norway. All I try to do ends
Up in laughter.
Cherilyn Fry May 2014
Who ever knew that an automatic
response
Would be so difficult to do when thought about
During class we are told
breath in      Count
breath out.......being mindfull of the breath
the ebb
the flow
who ever knew that such freedom would be found
Between the breaths
john p green Aug 2017
Come my way.
Past midnight's strung out overture.
With beginnings loud by compare.
Trance me along.
Be swept.
You'll be kept awhile.
I'll be forcasting forfeiture.
Disgrace their disquises.
All the while faceless.
My spin never quits the begin.
And you see...
As it clings unceasing.
Capping off each verse.
Erasing and repeating.
Mindfull while notes crease.
Chatter becomes new release.
Calm, your new fear.
Ilya Molotov Mar 2017
be mindfull, whatever you do, be balanced
the cosmos inside you, growing..
the trees are calm while the wind shakes them
Listen.. one drop in eternity...
Ken Pepiton Jun 2021
to all who know
to all certified survivors, I hope not to die,
I did that cross my heart thing wrong,
so many times,
how many? so,

I don't know and nobody knows but some
little creep me who does remember,
many oaths long forgotten,
and none of the good ones rotted,
the kid sees, look
I wished for this.

Seeds, or so I believed,
but this is real, as real as any angel ever promised.
Wait and see.
Sow old seed.
Some sprouted, yes beget yes,
we learn until it feels like a mindfull then the mind
expands,
see…

there never is a real bang, like there is no boomer
as portrayed online and in the air waves of old days,

turn your radio on -
we are authorized to bring this version of the renowned
message from the source that loosed the modified
biome, only possible due to the necessary
historical fact,

there had to be a cover band calling themselves,
"No Room at the Inn" working the river,

this biome factors into every idea in the life
this mind formed from **** few babes ever smell.
--- gut feeling

Where do ideas come from, well, you may ask yourself,
do you imagine knowing why
re- as re meaning completerly, not again
¿¿¿???
time slips and your fragile con-fid-ence fi sem per haps
and here is where we wait
defence
for our best sense makers to see the splash we made,
hell, we emptied    hell in more than twelve forms
per second read.

What's my pay, nada, madam, have a silver bullet
for all the evils those keep away, Hi Yo SILVER AWAY

always, a stranger asks ,"Who was that masked man."

Mom said she did not know, but
grandpa had a way with truth when it came to how it's told,
Mom's got suddenly a year older, and Pop
moved to the desert for the rest
of his life, after suffering through one life, he got a new wife,
but I was part of the ruined part, and I think
he did not know the damage a dad who does not wish
to be one, but lives under an oath, I never imagined,
before now,

those men, born in the Twenties,
went to war for reasons manifested as spirits, in minds
claimed sane by virtue of knowing true rest in peace,
ever after whenever we die.
Who taught your father how to be a man, or did he
***** it up completely, too.

There, that, stuff the wasted wonder why dad was dad.
No excuse, we come out of the informing system
lacking some senses, to allow hulk level
focus
on points of contention in reality under my pen,

novel new pride contends, without all I represent,
completely present as pre-sent re-
ality of purpose supposed a point
to aim at.
nothing more. Think you know where your arrows go.

Then rest if you have the peace, and watch them grow.
Wondering what possesses boomer CEO  models that got Peter Principled

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