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"mindfully" poems
The times here, mind clear removed fear, mind fully-aware they can’t calculate my circumference they try-angle-hate to encompass i’m too persistent consistently consistent my philosophy brilliant they’re mindfully malignant plots thicken and spots pigment perfect gentlemen, acting indecent handed them knowledge, didn't keep it then peep game, telling secrets I’m sure they’re getting seasick its been written, still going off the top the deep-end, the stuck on the plot
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Dec 5, 2014
Dec 5, 2014 at 10:19 PM UTC
Rap verses freestyle
You are a leader ship how I know this? cause I'm a leader ship too I can see the sinuous fibre of your very being take a look I bet you can see it too we are borne of the earth and the stars borne in the wind there are four cardinal directions, N E S W, do not forget about the intermediary be an intermediary ~ who wants to be a cardinal? we need our leader ships following their own true north 2D - 3D -- 4D --- 5D ---------------------------- > following the wormholes ... the aether following certain signs and symbols trust in divine feminine ... .. . .. ... masculine divine in trust trust in masculine divine ... .. . .. ... divine feminine in trust " 'It's all this!' He wrapped his finger in his fist; the car hugged the line straight and true." ~ Kerouac Ship builders choose their timber mindfully Be mindful with your archetypes, Noah!
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Sep 27, 2014
Sep 27, 2014 at 3:20 AM UTC
Leader ship
I try to sing this melody Of my own fidelity But I lack this morality That tells me the reality Of a life in harmony With spirits heavenly I am my own entity And when I show this identity It has no truth to humanity So I speak in brevity To hide the perplexity That only few conceptually Embrace with full integrity To soar in the clouds joyfully Like the eagles in serenity And the gods of heredity We are the truthful society Yet know one knows it verily I will continue transcendently Like the lotus in her artistry I will paint mindfully The visage of prosperity In all its beauty So vividly Until I rest solemnly In my garden above the galaxy Where all who truthfully Flew with divinity In utter tranquility While this world unfaithfully Decayed presently In the lies of commonality In this globe of duality Don’t sing this parody Avoid the practicality Your song is skillfully Hiding from the animosity You will have your symphony In a sky of pure unity
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Aug 23, 2012
Aug 23, 2012 at 2:24 PM UTC
A Song Skillfully Hiding
Reach into the nothingness Like a warm breath slipping into the cold night Hands outward, eyes open, upwards towards the sky Embrace the silent subtle voice Which hides behind the daily routines But is no less mindfully alive Cast images onto the fog itself Until you've seen the many dreams which you've procured for yourself In this cloudy life Breathe with the forgetfulness of evey waking step   As you amble through these miles set With jawline firm and eyeline slight Smile at the passing sight of another universe in tow Which ambles by and out of view As your inward story comes alive And live not in line with every Crow on any high wire But fly as if there were no tomorrow in your quiet sigh Upwards and towards the sky
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Sep 6, 2018
Sep 6, 2018 at 12:59 PM UTC
Towards The Sky
Marvelously Mentored In mind I guide my wheelchair forward through the valley of death and fear rises as if lachrymal dew But I take heart knowing there is a private way, a fusion of mind=body, my tao Out of this valley the way is paved with slippery tempting templates, Sirens songs, a lyrical playlist cunningly self collected,   but I remain mindfully resolute caped in electric blanket and birthday suit my 3D hero is me, Marvelously mentored, sans copyright.
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Jul 3, 2015
Jul 3, 2015 at 7:19 AM UTC
Marvelously Mentored
life is unpredictable in its fickle nature, moments can transform into a lifetime of shared splendor or somber recollection, healing isn’t linear nor is life’s trajectory as we tread this path scattered with trials and tribulations, time challenges our wit and forces our hand at resilience as we build ourselves countlessly to brace the changes that come our way, that is the beauty of existing— understanding the significance of loss and relishing the triumph of union, savoring the essence within us and radiating faith amid our silent prayers, healing isn’t linear, nor is life’s trajectory as we are riddled with fates that at times make us question our purpose in retrospect to the everyday, this breath is but a gift of chance for us to continue walking mindfully with the beauty that surrounds us, you are but a flower in the garden of tomorrow; blossom endlessly.
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Dec 1, 2023
Dec 1, 2023 at 10:38 PM UTC
healing isn't linear
'Tis A roadmap Each word, neigh each letter Mindfully Placed And carefully tended Cause this is how Wild things grow
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Sep 22, 2014
Sep 22, 2014 at 7:41 AM UTC
A Poem is Worth A Googal
Perhaps by then, should you find us Insane Which you consider Loony in your Bin For you, Shy Heart, Compassion do you Feign And Ignore these Squares they have Worked so since Mindfully, Tears do their Hands become And strained the Sweat asking for your Favour At least, bend your Fast-Numbered Face for once And see on your own you Missed to Savour Now Common, yet Elegant in their Theme Reminding you what really does Matter Faces! Faces! And Messages post-seam Holidays bid Cheer; Wee bit of Flatter. Their Spirits engraved; At their Time's Expense To sort your Clouds out; And make full of Sense.
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Mar 15, 2013
Mar 15, 2013 at 3:04 AM UTC
SONNET TRIBUTE SUNDRY - NINETY-SEVEN - TOM DALEY
I'm weird I'm weird and I get it Living on a narrow road not to be timid without the tips on my own route without giving a **** I'm weird I'm weird and I get mindfully free of flaws not to be timid, been being so caring trying not to be livid, but my minds been opened to the chaos we try not to see but we live with all the fullery and fuckery they giveth I'm weird I'm weird and I get it But who are you to tell me to get with it being of the being living where they kick it wanting of the norm your part of what makes me livid an where l get timid tangled in web with the no hope to ditch it D.J. Turner
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Jan 5, 2015
Jan 5, 2015 at 1:29 PM UTC
I'm Weird
While existing behind the bars of hate, fright, and constraint, living mindfully amidst the chaos.
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Jul 4, 2016
Jul 4, 2016 at 12:52 PM UTC
This is Freedom
the drunken dancer mingling between selves a cocktail party for her pieces her hips- rhythm her mind- beats. a bit of elixir to smooth out the kinks to rust through the chains to flood through the pristine valleys detached and forever in(dependent) on the music on her self on her longing for growth only stars are supposed to explode like this. not for the others though they stare impressively shocked mindfully drooling overwhelmed by her unknown disconnecting disintegration. she is a movement she is a self she is unwinding her taste for freedom hemorrhaging out covering her covering the night in gold. you have to know this feeling for Dionysus himself watches and laughs.
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Mar 28, 2013
Mar 28, 2013 at 3:49 PM UTC
the ******
We're all un-informed about something We can't know everything But when your ignorance impacts others Un-knowledged and un-aware It is not the same as un-mindfully aware Inflicting your imbecilic  infections Upon others I cannot abide in We need more un-derstanding To be un-bigoted We need to stand together In this un-certain world To do anything less would be un-reasonable Un-do your ignorance Un-screw your head from your ***
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Aug 10, 2013
Aug 10, 2013 at 11:39 AM UTC
Ignorance
Stress ticks over inside of me, as if mechanically part of me! And these shacking hands be that of a chronometer! How many times have i heard, “It will all be ok!” I think much kinder words have been spoken! As if they hold no part of this drastic itinerary! Then! Mindfully i say! COPE! BREATHE Smell take it all in! Its not all decay! There are roses too! Listen Oh, hear the beautifull song as the sparrow gayly chirps, his thanks to life! Sight! Open my eyes! Drink in all its beauty! Touch! Feel the world with all my senses! As air rushes over me! Its all alive! And I’m part of this great creation! Im alive! Oh Thank you Jesus! ©️
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Oct 25, 2018
Oct 25, 2018 at 12:51 AM UTC
Appreciation Is To Get Me there!
A Not No Logos, Klein. What about anti-logo Using the figure as the foci But leaving the message in the medium Both in the back and foreground Then we yell fore and the foreground becomes the background 2 Always remembering hierarchy but always forgetting Plutarch Is this is a disambiguation? Did I confuse Parallel Lives with Plutarchy? 3 So we grid it out. GOTO Vitruvio ... 4 Trying hard to balance can create imbalance this we rationalize through irrationality. 3.14159265359 ... 5 Symmetry ... .. . ~ . .. ... assymetrY Stressing the *** in asymmetry And what about the meeting of Apollo and Dionysus and the Apollonian/Dionysian duality? 6 Rhythm: 3:3 ; 4:4 ; 7:4 ; salt peanuts . .. ... windtalkers 7 White space is an access point for flow, Tao, source .... this is where my batteries recharge 8 Every element is mindfully placed; an element of gestalt ism "shape form", is this analogous to timespace? Is the whole other than the sum of its parts? GOTO Miller-Urey II nested inside Babylon Falling Both are self organizing, none the less. Such wholesome folk we are. 9 The patterns found in isolation parallel both linear and crossing elements and the instructions always coming from a double helix. GOTO The Dance of the Double Helix ... and always adding depth and motion ... kinematic to the statics. GOTO Introducing Happiness 10 Type faces are interfaces so be consistent ... you Paranoid Android! J Always K.I.S.S.ing Q And in motion means modularity is a must K Peaks and valleys can be better understood at the Red Onion or maybe just by peeling back the layers (of life)
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Sep 28, 2014
Sep 28, 2014 at 8:11 PM UTC
Spades
A Not No Logos, Klein. What about anti-logo Using the figure as the foci But leaving the message in the medium Both in the back and foreground Then we yell fore and the foreground becomes the background 2 Always remembering hierarchy but always forgetting Plutarch Is this is a disambiguation? Did I confuse Parallel Lives with Plutarchy? 3 So we grid it out. GOTO Vitruvio ... 4 Trying hard to balance can create imbalance this we rationalize through irrationality. 3.14159265359 ... 5 Symmetry ... .. . ~ . .. ... assymetrY Stressing the *** in asymmetry And what about the meeting of Apollo and Dionysus and the Apollonian/Dionysian duality? 6 Rhythm: 3:3 ; 4:4 ; 7:4 ; salt peanuts . .. ... windtalkers 7 White space is an access point for flow, Tao, source .... this is where my batteries recharge 8 Every element is mindfully placed; an element of gestalt ism "shape form", is this analogous to timespace? Is the whole other than the sum of its parts? GOTO Miller-Urey II nested inside Babylon Falling Both are self organizing, none the less. Such wholesome folk we are. 9 The patterns found in isolation parallel both linear and crossing elements and the instructions always coming from a double helix. GOTO The Dance of the Double Helix ... and always adding depth and motion ... kinematic to the statics. GOTO Introducing Happiness 10 Type faces are interfaces so be consistent ... you Paranoid Android! J Always K.I.S.S.ing Q And in motion means modularity is a must K Peaks and valleys can be better understood at the Red Onion or maybe just by peeling back the layers (of life)
Continue reading...
41
Putting pen to paper slowly serenades my nerves and carefully caresses my insecurities to make me mindfully and mindlessly fall for every dent the words put in my chapter
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Nov 1, 2021
Nov 1, 2021 at 9:17 AM UTC
Lead Pencils and White Papers
i would like to keep bees or at least i like the idea of keeping bees to be honest i know nothing next to nothing about all that it entails but it seems like it would be cathartic although their frenzies may be calmed by the smoke movements must remain slow and gentle such fragility must be tended to carefully mindfully almost lovingly i think i like the idea of the peace to be found in those moments there is a shade-dappled spot at the bottom of the garden that would be the perfect place for them where the humming of the hive would accompany the swaying of the tree's their gentle whispering and the quietude that would settle beyond
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Feb 21, 2023
Feb 21, 2023 at 6:39 AM UTC
propolis
Marooned in the shadows of distraction, I thought I had progressed. Living side by side with you, Mindfully memorizing that there will forever, Be a daily dawn with you somewhere. Shattered expectations leave me unfulfilled. After all, I must live inside of you for my everlasting and beloved fire to be stilled.
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Apr 5, 2012
Apr 5, 2012 at 5:35 PM UTC
Living Aside
*occurring slowly, imperceptibly efficacy being subtly reduced no longer radiating as it once had decaying in all that matters life awaiting reconception metamorphosis to wholeness but transition is rarely painless its passage dark and damp anxious waking in predawn gloom curled within the womb of familiar under a fraying comforter of security worn even too thin for reality veiling cutting the cord to the past is crucial mindfully maintaining nurturing ties a healthy present breathes its own air into a future released from half-life*
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Sep 1, 2014
Sep 1, 2014 at 11:31 AM UTC
Half-Life
In fields where roses fade as finite flowers should He watches from his mountain; mindfully morose. Full of sound and fury; sad and surley. As if made of wood. He moveth not as a man might move rather he gather a stretch of wind and with it work a while, that he may prove. He is free and clear, he has not sinned. Yet lost to in trepidation and filled for five years or more he is. The child of every nation, being but a borrower among the poor. Carry no comforts nor glee while whistling workers are whimpering; their pain, an ease to see. The game is paved with suffering and always played so thoughtlessly.
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Oct 25, 2014
Oct 25, 2014 at 1:30 PM UTC
Mourner In Lament
Her arms drape over Leaving her shadow behind Unseen Branches brush my thighs Dance along my bare skin While early morning Incandescent sunrays Rest on my cheeks Standing at her roots She brings me to my knees Grounded heavy In gratitude as she shows us So gracefully Quietly Mindfully How to breathe
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Nov 4, 2018
Nov 4, 2018 at 12:11 AM UTC
The old gumtree
goodmorning naked body. taut watery skin smudged against my face. you smell like trees salted and soaked in winter. (pitch black limbs curving across the pale sky, dripping sweet ale into patterns on the snow, which children bundled in plastic and cotton packed into stone, will seek out and decipher. while old women, knee deep in furs watch mindfully from behind their ancient glass. language of the forest gods, they will mutter, breath fogging windows and swallowing their old wiry mouths, before turning into the muddy darkness of their homes and disappearing forever) strands of sunlight dressed up in frost, tumble drunk into the room and drape over your shoulders. i leave a trail of fingerprints across your collar bone.
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Feb 2, 2010
Feb 2, 2010 at 11:22 AM UTC
Boy in the Morning
Where, oh Heart, is the answer? In man’s olive iris that pines capsule of soulish vines stretching by the water in that memory… First pink touch: the long name, Which you say is so easy on the eye In catching dim fair soft lights blown in gloom’s silver odds between two old pages or News soaked in a gray ink drop bath: The blending of war broken out on earth’s cheek With the gossiping red margins and Something eerie on the last page… I step on it, walking straight. In still mindfully begging Oval windows on the church ramparts:  Is it in the epoch           Womanhood? In the sore ****** in the sore slits             Dribbling pollen of wounds of             Nickings, gyps, slights, losses Is it in a stasis Forested with chocolate and sisters Purpled bedtime music boxes Dreaming or in the moment I Stir my bland corners with song             Not in victories banners cheering             Hunched labor in running             Something we get when winning Is it in a process That wrinkles like skin, then spots             Or hangs over the path             A great moss and changing the wintery company of foliage and twig to fire and blossom, in the birth of death and growing? is it in kissing or eating before praying like guilt yellow as bruised pear hips that melt to brown in your fingers Should I see or hear or feel it in the man himself, meat of his fine muscles, his heart's voice, the buried hunger pang, it speaks or in his prayer's slow sadness, black as the tomb's passage and can you answer?
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Nov 15, 2013
Nov 15, 2013 at 11:54 PM UTC
11-14
Where, oh Heart, is the answer? In man’s olive iris that pines capsule of soulish vines stretching by the water in that memory… First pink touch: the long name, Which you say is so easy on the eye In catching dim fair soft lights blown in gloom’s silver odds between two old pages or News soaked in a gray ink drop bath: The blending of war broken out on earth’s cheek With the gossiping red margins and Something eerie on the last page… I step on it, walking straight. In still mindfully begging Oval windows on the church ramparts:  Is it in the epoch           Womanhood? In the sore ****** in the sore slits             Dribbling pollen of wounds of             Nickings, gyps, slights, losses Is it in a stasis Forested with chocolate and sisters Purpled bedtime music boxes Dreaming or in the moment I Stir my bland corners with song             Not in victories banners cheering             Hunched labor in running             Something we get when winning Is it in a process That wrinkles like skin, then spots             Or hangs over the path             A great moss and changing the wintery company of foliage and twig to fire and blossom, in the birth of death and growing? is it in kissing or eating before praying like guilt yellow as bruised pear hips that melt to brown in your fingers Should I see or hear or feel it in the man himself, meat of his fine muscles, his heart's voice, the buried hunger pang, it speaks or in his prayer's slow sadness, black as the tomb's passage and can you answer?
Continue reading...
47
Interwoven in the grand matrix of our existence, is the paradox of Divine Intervention and Free Will. With the ability to choose, We create the bitter and the sweet, interpretations vast, affecting the collective. Within this web, a strand of familiarity, alongside an ocean of great mystery. We remember our family, distinct by memory, visions, and scent. We choose to connect, unraveling the secrets that dance gracefully just below our noses. Answers always available, questions seldom posed. Opening the door, a door to another door, with no walls to support it. Endless doorways to an infinite space, needing not to be “opened” in the first place. We can always be open, mindfully. Authentically visualize a boundless sea of Everything all at once, and a thoughtful creation of entryways. Based on how we choose, our experiences become molded and ripple into the choices beside us, echoing from our brothers and sisters. The vibration of our Will, swimming, radiating through the cosmos, relocating land we hardly recognize, but knew all along.
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Jul 21, 2016
Jul 21, 2016 at 8:49 AM UTC
We Choose