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Geraldine Taylor Oct 2017
Change

Verse 1
It starts right deep inside of me, a true grasp on identity
The present moment is the place to be, regardless of who's watching me
It’s plain to see, comprehensively, no real gain comes easily
Whether to the left or right of me, time in motion, truly free
To persevere is the truest reward, ride this train be truly on board
This right here to truly afford, come together, one accord
A single mind retrain able, good grades are attainable
Accomplish the impossible, you can be unstoppable
A single step to take, of directions moving on
Keep it moving in forward motion, articulate my song
With an aim of harmony, we can but soldier on
We must create a place, with a feeling to belong

Let’s begin and start a new change
For in time we truly can change, subtle change, ample change, some folks just ain’t trying to change
Aim real high towards the change
Constant force, there’s always change
Release control with all the change
For yes in time we can truly change
Smaller change, greater change
So much here to rearrange
New concepts are hardly strange
Stand united welcome change
Restoration welcome change
Conservation bring the change
Re-establish forward change
For yes in time we will truly change

There are challenges that are facing me, complex to simplicity
Teams move forward socially, share discussions vocally
To stand as one, it’s just begun
Separation can’t become
A team with victory truly won
A united cause, brought as one
Determination is the real deal, certified replacing the seal
Energy the people can feel
A new beginning, fresh appeal
A brand new chapter practical
Solutions that are workable
Greatness is achievable
Concepts are conceivable
A new journey to take, whether short or whether long
Keep on moving forward, embracing a new song
With amicability, we all will progress on
Let’s create a place, with a feeling to belong

Let’s begin and start a new change
For in time we truly can change, subtle change, ample change, some folks just ain’t trying to change
Aim real high towards the change
Constant force, there’s always change
Release control with all the change
For yes in time we can truly change
Smaller change, greater change
So much here to rearrange
New concepts are hardly strange
Stand united welcome change
Restoration welcome change
Conservation bring the change
Re-establish forward change
For yes in time we will truly change

Chorus
There is ever present change, many thoughts to rearrange
Together we can change the world, let’s rewrite the page
There are many forms of strong, yet we all must soldier on
Together as one, together as one
For each and every fight, is a chance to so unite
Every lesson in the wrong, it can be rendered right
There is opportunity, be the change you want to see
Let’s set ourselves free, let’s set ourselves free
In time, beyond the impossible
Breaking through every obstacle
By faith from the intangible
Objects, they are exchangeable
Yet lives are irreplaceable
Real change is attainable

Verse 2
To offer forth a helping hand, notions yet to understand
To be welcomed in a foreign land, disharmony is sinking sand
It’s clear to see, comprehensively, operate more tactfully
With wisdom understandably, let the innocent be truly free
A greater love that can’t be defined, to comprehend the passage of time
Appreciation truly is mine, reverence beyond the sky
Of nature undeniable, progress transformational
Advancing the responsible, of wonderment sensational
A single step to take, cultivated going strong
Keep it moving in forward motion, can we all just get along
With advancing harmony, on a road that may be long
Let’s now create a place, with a feeling to belong

Let’s begin and start a new change
For in time we truly can change, subtle change, ample change, some folks just ain’t trying to change
Aim real high towards the change
Constant force, there’s always change
Release control with all the change
For yes in time we can truly change
Smaller change, greater change
So much here to rearrange
New concepts are hardly strange
Stand united welcome change
Restoration welcome change
Conservation bring the change
Re-establish forward change
For yes in time we will truly change

Advancing with a point of view, discernment of what’s really true
Comprehension of what’s true for you, of new horizons to ensue
With a faculty of proficiency, movements of efficiency
With complex capability, time in motion, skillfully
Experience that can be applied, universal always onside
Letting go of innermost pride
Truthfulness, no need to hide
Application practical, let your goals be reachable
In him all things possible, passionately powerful
With awareness to awake, with weakness rendered strong
Keep moving in forward motion, articulate my song
With all tranquillity, uncover what is wrong
We can now create a place, with a feeling to belong

Let’s begin and start a new change
For in time we truly can change, subtle change, ample change, some folks just ain’t trying to change
Aim real high towards the change
Constant force, there’s always change
Release control with all the change
For yes in time we can truly change
Smaller change, greater change
So much here to rearrange
New concepts are hardly strange
Stand united welcome change
Restoration welcome change
Conservation bring the change
Re-establish forward change
For yes in time we will truly change

Chorus
There is ever present change, many thoughts to rearrange
Together we can change the world, let’s rewrite the page
There are many forms of strong, yet we all must soldier on
Together as one, together as one
For each and every fight, is a chance to so unite
Every lesson in the wrong, it can be rendered right
There is opportunity, be the change you want to see
Let’s set ourselves free, let’s set ourselves free
In time, beyond the impossible
Breaking through every obstacle
By faith from the intangible
Objects, they are exchangeable
Yet lives are irreplaceable
Real change is attainable

Verse 3
Let actions be effectual, real change be perpetual
Creative with the intellectual, let guidance be instructional
Be rational, co-operational, shared ideas are practical
Measuring the mathematical, alignment formational
Aiming high reach for the sky
Given standards you can defy
With courage here the aim is to try
Moving forward, mystify
Far from the undesirable, feelings unreliable
Testing the improbable, reality is changeable
A bolder step to take, of directions moving strong
You can always go beyond the place that you came from
With realised clarity, we gain sense of the wrong
Let’s now create a place, where we can all belong

Let’s begin and start a new change
For in time we truly can change, subtle change, ample change, some folks just ain’t trying to change
Aim real high towards the change
Constant force, there’s always change
Release control with all the change
For yes in time we can truly change
Smaller change, greater change
So much here to rearrange
New concepts are hardly strange
Stand united welcome change
Restoration welcome change
Conservation bring the change
Re-establish forward change
For yes in time we will truly change

Change may be uncomfortable, let fear be inexcusable
Steer from the reprehensible, payback is repayable
To so forgive, inexhaustible
Of oneness that is plausible, the broken rectifiable
Connected, relational
Associate and we can relate, don’t waste time, a pitiless state
Memories that we cannot retake, in position, get in place
Abundance that is plentiful, examples observational
Joyfulness obtainable, experience the seasonal
Of actions yet to take, we’re keeping the game strong
Keep moving in forward motion, wherever you came from
With avid harmony, we all will soldier on
We can now create a place, with a feeling to belong

Let’s begin and start a new change
For in time we truly can change, subtle change, ample change, some folks just ain’t trying to change
Aim real high towards the change
Constant force, there’s always change
Release control with all the change
For yes in time we can truly change
Smaller change, greater change
So much here to rearrange
New concepts are hardly strange
Stand united welcome change
Restoration welcome change
Conservation bring the change
Re-establish forward change
For yes in time we will truly change

Bridge

With mind-sets evolved, there is true insight
Let’s create a place, to truly shine our light
There is wisdom to release, to regain our inner peace
Together as one, together as one
Compassion in the land, with a heart to understand
A true united force, let’s lend a helping hand
With due simplicity, re-establish harmony
Let’s set ourselves free, let’s set ourselves free
True change may be uncomfortable
Yet it is unmistakeable
New steps that are approachable
Of thoughts from the conventional
Mindful and relatable
Hopeful and aspirational

Verse 4
To go beyond, no greater time, reclaim your light it’s time to shine
In relaxed mode we will decline, natural gems can be refined
Branch of the vine, be aligned
Masterpieces of design, purposed for potential prime
Stand in line, for such a time
Become a part of the solution, let’s create a revolution
Educate the institution, truly merge into a fusion
Reduce the confrontational, join the inspirational
Movement motivational, achieve the aspirational
The journey will be great, endurance may be long
Keep moving in forward motion, can we all just get along
With solid harmony, a team can become strong
Let's now create a place, with the option to belong
Of problems to be solved, of all the games to win
If the foundation is laid, by then we can begin
A sense of harmony, let's take the vision on
Let’s now create a place, where the people can belong


Let’s begin and start a new change
For in time we truly can change, subtle change, ample change, some folks just ain’t trying to change
Aim real high towards the change
Constant force, there’s always change
Release control with all the change
For yes in time we can truly change
Smaller change, greater change
So much here to rearrange
New concepts are hardly strange
Stand united welcome change
Restoration welcome change
Conservation bring the change
Re-establish forward change
For yes in time we will truly change

Chorus
There is ever present change, many thoughts to rearrange
Together we can change the world, let’s rewrite the page
There are many forms of strong, yet we all must soldier on
Together as one, together as one
For each and every fight, is a chance to so unite
Every lesson in the wrong, it can be rendered right
There is opportunity, be the change you want to see
Let’s set ourselves free, let’s set ourselves free
In time, beyond the impossible
Breaking through every obstacle
By faith from the intangible
Objects, they are exchangeable
Yet lives are irreplaceable
Real change is attainable

Written by Geraldine Taylor ©️
Amitav Radiance Mar 2015
Attention pivoted on the farthest
Blurry are the things at hand
The horizon seems reachable
Near ones distances themselves further
Clarion call from beyond the realm
Here, the soul is writhing in anonymity
A void, that threatens to engulf the known
Uncertainties of the realization is real
Heart is anchored here with situation
Yet, the world beckons this soul
The traveler yearns to break loose
The farthest seems logical and reachable
Distance will be traversed through unrevealed
Journey holds key to reach the destination
Manisha Uniyal Aug 2015
My small hut of dreams
surviving all alone atop of hill
covered all around with huge deodar trees
of muddy wall and slanting roof sill

Ginger and cardamom tea
near the orange fire place
reading journals
I will live , capturing the first snow in days

freshly baked potato in oven clay
sprinkled rock salt with melted cheese
fragrant leaves of corainder
lingers on and stays

sweet and sour taste of wine
from the close by farm of grapes
friends and family gather everynight
over dinner and United prays

bells echoing mystery in the air
far from the temples on a difficult mountain
where path to heavens looks reachable
trekking the rocks in sun and in rain


Manisha
bc Jan 2014
One
I hate myself.
Two
I'm scared to sleep at night because whenever I close my eyes it's as if the ruthless words of hatred and disgust that you throw at me relentlessly replay over and over in my head as if it was a broken record perched on the top of a dusty shelf that isn't within a reachable distance.
Three*
I don't know who I am anymore. I lost her somewhere within this sea of sadness I plunged myself into.
Four
Fat, Ugly, Worthless. Fat, Ugly, Worthless. Fat, Ugly, Worthless.* These are the words that taunt me everyday and latch onto me like a bloodthirsty leech that just found a new piece of flesh to feed off of.
Five
Whenever somebody tells me to be who I am and that they won't judge. I laugh. I laugh because being who I am is just a distant memory. I cant be who I am because I lost who I was in fifth grade when I skipped my first meal. I lost who I was in sixth grade when I learned what it felt like to genuinely hate myself. I lost who I was in seventh grade when I first put that razor on my left thigh and drew lines over lines that glistened crimson. I lost myself in eighth grade when I learned how to numb myself so that I feel nothing at all. Now here I am in present time, curled up in a ball of my own self pity, crying out all the feelings I wish I had.
Six
Somedays, I wish I could find the me that loves me, but I can't because the horrid words that you uttered to me stabbed her over and over again relentlessly and when you finally walked away, she stood there bleeding out all the love and trust she used to have.
Seven
I hate telling people how I really feel because they take it as a yearning for attention, not a cry for help. I hate telling people how I feel because they would treat me as if I was a problem and not a human.
Eight
I just wish that someone would paint on me as if I were a blank canvas and turn me into something magnificent because I am tired of continuously painting red lines on myself in hopes that my tear-stained cheeks, lifeless eyes, and pain will turn me into the beautiful girl society expects me to be.
Nine
I just wish I was normal.

-b.c.
First poem I published on here, I hope you like it. -b.c.
Michael-Angelo Aug 2015
Oceans couldn't keep me away from you, distances aren't reachable, I'll swim to you, love, street-fight or die trying, the stars and the infinite galaxies won't keep me from your love, it's the same old story, guy meets girl, but I am a fighter and a lover, I'll fight Bulls with no sword, I won't cheat, I'll use my hands, I'll run and ride wild horses to be by your side, I'll swim with sharks with no cage, fearless heart made with fiery stone, our love is deep, and I'll stop at nothing to die by your side, the same old story ... This story is endless, I'll conquer kingdoms, **** them with love to make you mine, till I crawl bare-***** ****** ravished to hold your hand and make you mine...
Just a little love poem for my current crush, hehe...!! ;)
K Balachandran Feb 2016
Prelude
"Let's go" his soft whisper
the mantra, in his voice she hears

the esoteric voyage through
the cryptic high seas of self,
fathomless, unmapped,
uncharted and reachable
only by the most fearless
ready to unbind and make
the self free for it's adventure,
begins thus for the peaceful pair
complementing the absolute
for a life time, til they reach there
and find themselves one with
                      pure consciousness.

"Let's let's, but only together"
she chants in unison,with him.

1.
Bidding good bye to ego, clad in red and black
a beast, not easy to bring to it's  knees, submit,
the high horse proud,raring to go,having  sharp horns
sticking out, fierce, that goes berserk,on seeing white.
Altogether a curious construct, that dictates terms-
they set about, invoking the blessing of the flame of light.
2
They stood together,  eyes widely shut, bringing
both palms together,in front of their  chests
creating a lotus bud, symbolizing hearts,bowing
each other in "Namaste",-bows the divinity in thyself-
chanting the mantras of peace, thrice, each time, repeatedly.
3
"Lets go back to the begining of every begining.."
the primordial hum, transcending quagmires of time
in the path of our ancestors,who did see the" unseeable",
without eyes, knew the "unknowable",diving in to the
ocean depth of self,going inwards chanting"Neti, Neti"
Not this, Not this, inquiring each till the essence did reveal.
4
They did this, focusing the eye of the mind, on the eye
beyond all, that watches every small thing in universe.
Mind, sharpened like the blade of a sword,efficient to cut
the Gordian knots,of paradox, duality and illusion,
encountering the silence that thickens at last, speaks
the words of wisdom,patient they are, to know the ultimate,
right there at the source of light that is the true essence of all,
5
Celebrate the pure consciousness, that pervades in every thing,
the thought that begets all thoughts,that  moves on to be karma,
that becomes purer, through the cycles of lives, one after another.
"Let's be humble, utmost, sans the ornamental clothes of pride.
May the thought reigning cosmos, the spirit of peace,chanted aloud,
take us to it's sanctum sanctorum and melt us in to it's divine embrace.
Only one there is, all are it's integrals,the divine cosmic hum 'Aum'
that enliven the universe within each cell, remember , is eternal"
                                                #@@#
Know thy self as an inner  universe, integrated to the outer,seamlessly,
which is, eternal, non-dual, peace in essence, effulgence and happiness
enshrined in the core.All the explorations in to the core by ancient Indian seers, record these findings in the "Veda"s (The "told" chronicles)
Emily Tyler Jan 2014
I glare at it
During last period,
Jumping too high
But not high enough
To reach the swinging rope.

I'm in history,
And some glazed-over teacher
Is pointing at the
Chalkboard which has
Tiny scratches that look like words
Scribbled all over.

But I don't look at my notes,
Because my neck is craning
Too far back
To look at the rope
That is
My two and a half hours of freedom.

A single note is released into the halls
And the students chace it
And I leap into the air
Because the rope
Is reachable
And I grab it.

I begin to climb.

I sit by you on the
Dirt-dusted tile floor
Outside the gym
And we work on algebra
Or english if it's a good day.

And don't get me wrong,
I hate the familiar stench of homework
As much as
The next
Hunchbacked highschooler.
The rope stings my hands
While I climb.
You numb the burn.

But I have practice
And the rope is easy to climb
And I reach the top
In two and a half hours
And you get into
The yellow sardine can
That goes to your neighborhood.

And all of my muscles ache when you go.
Two and a half hours between school and crew practice.
Adellebee May 2012
Never Neverland is the place where dreams come true
Where you don’t have to be serious, don’t have to grow up
Where Peter is the one to follow and ensures that the everlasting imagination is forever
You can run around in your underwear and no one would notice,
Go get worms by the fireside and tell them to come play
Astronauts, doctors, photographers are all dreams reachable
In Never Neverland you are safe from teenagers torment
Or weight weighing you down, every time you count the calories of a *******
Never Neverland is a place of wonder, a place of intrigue
And where memories don’t fade, everything is everything
And everyone is part of some huge inner circle
Giggling and building forts
Nis Jun 2018
Ojalá mi cara fuese jazz.
Ojalá mi cara fuese atardecer de cien días
y se perdiese como música en la marea.
Ojalá mis notas fuesen fuego
que corriese raudo por tus venas.
Ojalá se perfumasen en el aire
y  diesen sentido al amanecer del alba.
Ojalá fluyesen como el agua
suavemente rizando la rojez del cielo.
Ojalá fuesen contundentes como la roca
y cayesen a plomo junto a mi corazón muerto.

Ojalá mi cara fuese jazz.
Siempre cambiante, nunca la misma
subebajando en el horizonte.
Tierna y vibrante, siempre difusa
alzándose hacia el cielo con alas desplegadas.
Dulce y salada, externa e interna,
por ósmosis entrando por cada poro.
Pesada y rígida, sólida y pura
cercenando la realidad con su ser preciso.

Ojalá mi cara fuese jazz
siendo lo que no es,
no siendo lo que es.
En cada instante de su espacio manifestándose
en cada punto de su tiempo existiendo.
Única e indivisible, aunque difícilmente alcanzable.
Verdadera mentira que perdura tras los siglos.
Satírica cual elefante boca arriba
dando a luz a lo que siempre ha sido nuestro.

Ojalá mi cara fuese jazz.
Saliendo hacia la luz verdadera
y tornando hacia la oscuridad traicionera.
Volando hacia arriba y en picado,
oteándose a si misma , eterna y cierta.
Creando un nuevo mundo igual a este,
igual de distinto que este a si mismo.
Imitando la certeza de lo incierto.
Pretendiendo con falsedades llegar al verso.

Ojalá mi cara fuese jazz
y fuese objeto de su ser
y fuese sujeto de su haber
y se realizase siempre que le dieses tiempo
y se realizase siempre en lo que siempre fue
y avanzase inmóvil hacia la verdad
y esperase impasible a la mentira.
Ojalá de cada error saliese un mérito,
una esperanza, una virtud siempre precisa.

Ojalá mi cara fuese jazz
tornando el arte arcana en ente nuevo,
aunque sea falso.
En estúpidas epifanías tornando el acto
cual poeta escribiendo estos versos.
Ojalá repetir versos pasados en lenguas nuevas
y llamarse artista.
Mero comentarista y observador
de lo que precedió en tiempo y espacio.

Ojalá mi cara fuese jazz
existiendo con sólo pensarlo
negando el pensamiento mismo,
lógica implacable mintiendo mi rostro,
contradicciones inapelables mintiendo mi ser.
Con precisión matemática ser mentira,
con la etereidad del arte ser verdad.
Ojalá como estafador maestro ante tu mirar
se hiciese música que disfrutar.

Ojalá mi cara fuese jazz,.
Ojalá mi cara no fuese jazz.
Ojalá no tener cara, ni nada.
Ojalá el solo pensarlo me dejase ciega,
sorda para la música de mi rostro.
Ojalá pasar por debajo de una escalera tirada
para no recibir buena suerte.
Ojalá austera o inexistente,
cual dios mirando tu filosofía vana.

Ojalá mi cara fuese jazz
y unificase tantas corrientes
como puede abarcar con sus brazos.
Ojalá pudiese tornar cierta la realidad
por el mero hecho de pensarla, pero no puedo,
pero mi rostro se muestra impasible
ante desdicha tal y sigue avanzando;
regla dorada entre uñas de marfil,
largos palillos para comer la realidad desvirtuada.

Ojalá mi cara fuese jazz
y revolucionase el mundo con su pensar
y desmontase heregías como ciertas.
Ojalá años más tarde siguiese su lucha
contra el infiel divino hasta su muerte,
y como la de un mono con barba
se tornase contra el padre de la ciencia moderna,
y le enseñase a pensar en sueños,
a soñar en vida, a soñar en muerte.

Ojalá mi cara fuese jazz
y se repitiese eternamente para mi suerte,
nunca cambiando, siempre presente.
Ojalá asesinase al padre de todo
y se adueñase de su lugar.
Ojalá existir antes de ser.
Ojalá rodar por la vida sin mirar a los lados,
destruyendo lo que tantas veces nos ha aplastado
y creando la belleza del arte, que es eterna.

//

I wish my face were jazz.
I wish my night were sunset of one hundred days
and it lost itself like music in the tides.
I wish my notes were fire
which ran swift in your veins.
I wish they would perfume itself in the air
and gave meaning to the morning's sunrise.
I wish they flowed like water
softly curling the sky's redness.
I wish they were sturdy like rock
and they plummeted next to my dead heart.

I wish my face were jazz.
Always changing, never the same.
updowning in the horizon.
Tender and vibrating, always diffuse
rising towards the sky with open wings.
Sweet and salty, extern and intern,
by osmosis entering through each pore.
Heavy and rigid, solid and pure
cutting through reality with its precise being.

I wish my face were jazz
being what it is not,
not being what it is.
In every instant of its space manifesting itself
in every point of its time existing.
One and indivisible, although hardly reachable.
True lie which endures beyond centuries.
Satiric like elefant on its head
giving birth to what always has been ours.

I wish my face were jazz.
Going out to the true light
and turning to the treacherous darkness.
Flying upwards and in a dive,
scanning itself, eternal and true.
Creating a new world equal to this,
equally as distinct as this to itself.
Imitating the certainty of the uncertain.
Trying with falseness to reach the verse.

I wish my face were jazz.
and it were object of its being
and it were subject of its having
and it came true always you gave it time
and it came true always in what it always was
and it moved fordward unmoving towards the truth
and it waited impasible the lie.
I wish of every error a merit would come out,
a hope, a virtue ever precise.

I wish my face were jazz
turning arcane art into a new being,
even if false.
Into stupid epiphanies turning the act
as a poet writing this verses.
I wish to repit old verses in new tongues
and to call myself an artist.
Mere commentator and observer
of what preceded it in time and space.

I wish my face were jazz.
Existing with only thinking of it,
negating thought itself,
implacable logic lying my visage,
unnappealable contradictions lying my being.
With mathematical precision being a lie,
with the ethereality of art being the truth.
I wish that like master con artist before your looking
it turned itself into music to enjoy.

I wish my face were jazz.
I wish my face weren't jazz.
I wish I didn't have a face, nor anything.
I wish only thinking of it made me blind,
deaf to the music of my visage.
I wish passing under a fallen ladder
to not receive good luck.
I wish austere or non-existant,
like god looking at your vane philosophy.

I wish my face were jazz,
and it unified so many streams
like it can embrace with its arms.
I wish I could turn reality true
with the mere act of thinking it, but I can't,
but my visage shows itself impassible
before such misfortune and continues onwards;
golden rule among ivory nails,
long chopsticks to eat the desvirtuated reality.

I wish my face were jazz
and it revolucionised the world with its thinking
and it disassembled heressies as true.
I wish years later its fight would continue
against the divine infidel until his death,
and like a bearded monkey's
it would turn itself against the father of modern science,
and it taught him to think in dreams,
to dream in life, to dream in death.

I wish my face were jazz
and it repited itself enternally to my fortune,
never changing, always present.
I wish it assassinated the father of everything
and took its place.
I wish existing before being.
I wish rolling through life without looking sideways,
destroying that which always has crushed us
and creating the beauty of art, which is timeless.
Ufff this was a long one, took some time to translate it and I think is as accurate as a translation of a poem can be, but any advise regarding it would be appreciated. I know it sounds pretty random, and it is, as it was made mostly through automatic writting; but there is a common point joining the whole poem and giving it order. If you really like it, give it a few reads and see if you can find it ;)).
Kim Denise Oct 2015
Last night, you held my hand.
You talked to me about how
your life is going on right now.
You told me the days when I was
reachable to you was the happiest
days you ever had.

Am I distant now?
Did I ever leave your side?
Was I the one who disappeared
without saying why?
Am I not the one who waited
for a year for a text, a chat,
a reason to quiet my thoughts?


Anyway, you also sang to me,
it never fails to make me melt.
You really know that music
is the way to my heart.

But why is it that when you
sang my favorite song,
I felt my heart crumbling to pieces?
Maybe it's because my heart
knows it's not real, that everything
that's happening right now, everything
that has happened was just a
product of my lonely imagination.


You squeezed my hand so tight
and that's what you always do
when you are about to say goodbye
then you looked at me in the eyes
like you never want to let go.

But you did.
You did.
You did.


I only see you in my dreams,

*and maybe that's the best I will get.
Spiros Zafiris Nov 2012
perhaps I was twenty-six
she looked me over and soon enough
the walk to her place was zip, zap, zoop;
meaning, although the barman called
me over to tell me she had recently stabbed
or had tried to stab a bartender from
down the street,
my only concern was another mandrax, a
joint of kashmir hashish with thick ***** streaks
and, most certainly, a new escape; a new woman

the floor (a penthouse apartment, mind you):
much water from an overflowing sink...then, there's
the layer of dust on the dishes of the dish rack...and, not
to forget, the four or five
frightening knives, all very reachable

then, she introduces me to her first
jumping up and down episode--hollering,
"you're my father! I must **** you!"

how I spent two or was it three days with
her dumbfounds me these days...the fool, me,
I remember, first turned off the water
and mopped dry the floor...the miracle of
how my hand awoke and grabbed her wrist,
with the blade's tip an inch from my heart,
will have to wait another session with Harmony
--that She may reach into my mind and
pull out a more clear version of the epilogue
of this is-it-a-poem which I've written
in numerous other versions over the years
~~
..(C)2011/2012 Spiros Zafiris
..channeled; spirit Harmony; reaching into the poet's heart
~~
Michaela Tripp Mar 2013
Never Neverland is the place where dreams come true
Where you don’t have to be serious, don’t have to grow up
Where Peter is the one to follow and ensures that the everlasting imagination is forever
You can run around in your underwear and no one would notice,
Go get worms by the fireside and tell them to come play
Astronauts, doctors, photographers are all dreams reachable
In Never Neverland you are safe from teenagers torment
Or weight weighing you down, every time you count the calories of a *******
Never Neverland is a place of wonder, a place of intrigue
And where memories don’t fade, everything is everything
And everyone is part of some huge inner circle
Giggling and building forts
SassyJ Aug 2018
The dusk sets its hasty way
On the bricks and alleyways
where gypsies are endowed
smoking, trashing and fly tipping
Cursing, gossiping and fighting
and it all passes like an oasis
as a monster evades time
as the scorched leaves greet
after all those year and seasons
The tree by the window has grown
having seen misery and laughter
drunken nights and loving days
****** dates and eventual transitions
The burden of truth, it caught my eyes
Captured the barrenness of my soul
it thirsts for a far away distance
those reachable mountains of fortune
It hungers for an embrace full of life
outgrowing the space by the window
tearing the netted curtained screen
Every time I see the that tree
I giggle and then smile a little bit more
as if captured by an angelic love
In love with that tree, it makes me smile the way it has outgrown the netted curtain.
The transgressions of utter here and nowity
Unbeleivable longing for a collapsing norm
On the altar of self destruction and causal
Reciprocity fluttering on rebirthed dreams

You can sing and love these colorful birds
Vibritang meticulously with rare palpitations
Of greater bodies, which dust is a part of us
Delusional creatures, flying on the grandeur

Non reachable to written words, stellar ink is
Spilled, playing on the shores of ever returning
Waves of transformation; Shapes dance within
Your gaze, telling the story of water coy stillness

Unmovable we move on, unlovable we love hope
Clinging to tree roots and blood veins as clothes
Warm our trembling fragile figures travelling on
And on into the higher realms of transfiguration.
Imagined by
Impeccable Space
Poetic beauty
~
Arte Aug 2018
A world of dreams
Awaits for me
In the distant light
Or near future
Among the stars
My dream is one of the many stars that shine upon the night sky
Big or small
Same or different
Impossible or possible
Far or reachable
Some are there to be desired
Some left untouched and just admired

Every night I look up, they are there
Everyone’s dreams covering the night sky
Reminding us that our dreams exist
Giving us a sense of hope that we may achieve them
But also a sense of disbelief as they seem so far away
There they were
We just have to reach them

My oh my
My star may look very small among many others
But through my darkest nights it fills me with light and hope.
Because if i didn’t have these stars what would decorate my night sky? Or more so my life? My life of beautiful dreams

But when night turns to day
And morning sets in and the stars fade away
It’s back to reality
And the stars disappear like a forgotten dream that wasn’t meant to be

But when nightfall creeps in again
A glimmer of hope crosses the night sky
A shooting star
And that is when
I’ll know I will have achieved my dreams
Neon lights Oct 2014
I spent one of my days, somewhere at the end of October, facing all my fears
I let them through my mind and everyone got infected by bad vibes from me
That day I woke up to some distant rambling of my parents fighting
I found myself falling back into sleeping sweet embrace and awake at 9:30, finding dad sleeping on the stairs.
The day before, mum put oil on my hair and I complained about the smell that doesn't fade away after washing it  four times.

I was thinking of buying books and listening to music but can't because mum is beside me
And I don't like doing anything near her.
I asked her if I could change my glasses frame if I get straight A's for finals
She asked me to find a hammer to nail my bamboo box together
I wanted to show her a picture I took at school with another seven people of which I don't even know three of them
but end up telling myself not to because I don't want her to critize my funny body posture.

My sisters came home and suddenly all in a rush rummaging through some old things behind my closet.
They found a picture of me when I was six and another one when I was eleven taking a picture with my favourite teacher.
I told mum to get rid of my kindergarten ones but she kept them
Next thing I knew, I lost the one when I was eleven.

I saw the printer wire and my sister insisted that we should put it up so mum did and I fixed it. I fixed the printer and clear the carriage jams and all while putting up with all of the screamings going on between both my parents and both my sisters.
I blasted ******* bands in my ears and running loud thoughts in my head.

That day I cut my nails only on my left hand
Later, one my right hand finger is stained from printer ink.

Evening came and dusk came, night came. Midnight came.
I talked to the only person I'm sure I love and reachable. Autumn.
She's 17 and leaving school next year also very worried about her big exam on Nov 3.
She told how her emotional day went that day from how her classmate cried and her teacher cried too so that night
she got into the shower and cried and I said that it is okay
and we talked about biology and saliva and ulcers.
I listened to Good Riddance that night for how it constantly reminds me of people I love: Autumn and Luke and people I loved: Nightingale.

One of my friend also had the same vibe saying she is afraid of tomorrow, afraid of turning fifteen next year just like me.
We laughed about our first day going to school few years back then.
I brought up all those people I used to know and asking myself where did they go?
Or was I'm the one who disappeared?
Night came as I sit on a dying school chair listening to the ******* loud TV downstairs
I made coffee and listen to those voices.
Dad switched off the TV I was left with a strangling silent even with music on full volume.

Unconsciously, I grasped the coffee mug in front of me
clinging to its blistering warmth and started to cry for no reason just draining out the weight of life of today.
I shut my eyes with intent to barricade those tears from falling
but
it just pools and pour out and didn't cease and I just let them be until I hear someone going upstairs.
Oh how embarassing to see me in this state wiping off tears on the sleeves of my shirt where my heart should have been

Here I am in this endless mirage with a mug of coffee listening to the low hum of voices so familiar and imagery of many people that I'd like to take their pain away
just to let them breathe for a while.
I sipped the bitter coffee to the last drip
I tried not to think of those times when I haven't listen to this one song quite awhile
and
just before I press play it crossed my mind what if this song changed
It was kind of disappointing that it didn't but the feelings I had for this song did change
I took a few glance at my bookshelf and lost in this flashback when I used to measure my height on it
and
adding another 28 cm just to see how tall Luke was and it turns out he was taller than my bookshelf
so before I went to sleep on the same night, I told myself that I need to be at least 175 cm.

I lean against my chair trying hard to recall when did those things happened?
It can't be that long ago but
the image is so unreachable in my head.
Today, it's emotional day Autumn said it's an emotional day and
I said strikethrough 'an'
Today, life seemed as inevitable as death is
I'm here with no particular purpose of living set in my mind except surviving against a few little distraction
and
let me tell you this

*I like it.
Today is the day and this is what I've gone through today

(12:23AM)
Julius Nov 2012
Your eyes are sockets of disapproval
My eyes are sunk in their reticence
Would I be the flustering morning sun?
No I'm not, I only break the dawn
When, creeping from my slothing insolence
I enter the world afresh to some harried call
A new day stretching my body from contortion
To a slumbered, slouched hunch
With bags afrenzy under these eyes that stare back
Are portals to my  soul, which is also empty
Reflections of woeful, haggard dejection
Which, in my mind's eye, which is yours,
Give me call to curl back to my hibernation
To recede like my own vacant eyes do,
To my seat of morose repose
Senseless, as I stare thickly into space
Beholding my dreams strewn before me
As I curl away from them, and they seem ever reachable

Moments ago, I used to speak to myself
A mutterance for the day's outlook
Something to find a more suitable reflection
Waiting for me at the day's end
A worldly philosophy, or mind set proposal
But a strange shame spoke back at me,
As I perceived my speaking of these words
That with each day's turn only mildly echoed
As I turned from monotony with each night
To mediocrity of passionless habit

With a pinch of thought each glance conjures
I look upon myself in years,
My futile vision, my rampant egoism
With which the twinkling eye discerns me
At my now stage, and with
Reassuring confidence tells me not to change
As with time's growth will I become you
But blink and I return to forever
For without vigor and drive will this image
Imprint and stagnate its glare upon this glass
My eternal face, my motiveless eyes
Which so piteously transfix themselves on wonder
But turn up only rubble and soil

Now, I turn in disgust, relinquishing my desires
And, turning to the hour, feel slowly
The weight of each second's thunder
Crash upon my shoulders as it is snatched from me
And now I must not lounge through this new morn
I must not lessen with the tide
What I have stored up in greatness
But instead find the key to my ghostly heart
Bring myself back,
Forward into each new life
I miss the 'waiting' you used to make me do.
It used to be my favorite thing to do.
Yes, especially when you were late, or so late I can even forget I did nothing but just wait for you.

I miss the times we were sending SMS's
when I waited, sending tens of messages before you can reply a one-liner.
I also miss those feelings I had when you don't answer your phone,
when I try to call you numerous times...and all i hear is the annoying ring
to let me know you are reachable but just not bothering..
the ones I ended up waiting until the entire day ended,
And had to wait again to hear your sweetest apology that have always worked.

It's crazy, but I loved that waiting until you come home.
When you used to tell me to wait for a few minutes, but ended up waiting for an hour more.
Weren't this the very thing I used to do too, when you were still asking me out?
I guess you turned the table, and how I didn't mind about that because I was already there,
Revolving around you.

Time wasn't precious spending them to wait for you for lunch, wait for you for dinner, even wait for you to know I was waiting.
But seeing you finally come, I remember the feeling of gladness waiting brings!
It's like the feeling you have when you experience a miracle when you don't even deserve it.

Yes, I miss being the one waiting for you,
and the times I felt that I was just the only one waiting for you.
Thought all those waiting I did, weren't a waste, but rather,
A training ground for my upcoming occupation..
So optimistic of me..
I've always thought they'd prepare me to face the biggest wait in the history of loving you.
The wait that you'd finally choose me.

But you Didn't.
The funny thing is, there's Still a strong drive inside of me now that pushes me to wait even more...
Wait to prove my doubt right or wrong.
How long would that be then? I don't know.
This whole 'loving you' thing is so powerful it could steal my time.
It doesn't seem to see that time flies.
It doesn't seem to feel the overtime and no alarm sound would seem to wake it up.
so it moves on...
Samantha Page Jun 2013
The rain falls like tears,
slow and steady.
These clouds loom overhead.
I can see the light fighting to peak from behind....



There is a gentle release.
The rain is washing the world,
as these tears wash the soul,
leaving a crisp luminosity.
Tender with the reflection
of the areas the light fails to reach.



The area where they meet,
the light and the rain,
the smile and the tears...
Reveals a rainbow.
A spectrum of emotion and color-
with no reachable end.
So beautiful, so touching.

Human nature.
Humanity, and nature.
Complex reflections of one another.
Unending uncertainty,
and unrivaled relentlessness
shows unparalleled misunderstanding.
Erin Kay May 2013
The most beautiful thing in the world is disappearing.
Eyes half-shut,
Eyes, half-shut,
Infinity.

The most beautiful thing in the world is your
Hungry,
Still-searching eyes,
Always unsatisfied,
Only ever somewhat watching anything other than the reachable nowhere.

I don't see anything in your eyes
And I think that's the point.

Famished,
Poor, and
Crawling
You exist,
Stomach curling
And stirring bones in its wake.
You exist but only over the horizon.

Searching for the furthest thing you can see,
Searching for what lies beyond that,
Looking for the grayed creatures above your touch
But
More than that,
Raining thoughts upon them like a curious god
Only just remembering
His own power,
His own creation--
Wondering how they're holding up away from you.

You miss them,
And you've been dying to see them.
Charlie Chirico Mar 2013
Everything became interchangeable.
Words of wisdom,
which weren't welcoming,
were washed willingly.
Only now knowing
that the definition of a "wash"
is a sensitivity.
An appropriate metaphor
would have been a description
of an undertow; hands over feet,
because a cartwheel is superfluous  
underwater.

It's interchangeable.
The fact that the
white whale can
signify the tepid tactic
of the once sought
suitable soul.

It's tangible.
The decisiveness of another party.
A warm body to lay beside.
Another to lift the veil.
To speak love and hate
with full confidence.
Understanding that love and hate
is reachable.
Aloof to the fact that
you are
the love and hate.

It's manageable.
Although, *******
teeth has become customary,
the prospect of "******* face"
still lingers.
It's only until the lack of movement
with fingers...
It's the lack of *******.
But, it's manageable?

It's interchangeable.
It's knowing that what was
sought after was temporary,
that a sealed kiss will
eventually lead to an
opened envelope.

Then after time has taken its course,
you will be inside of another,
and another will be inside of her,
but the difference isn't the physicality.

It's the emotion that kills you.
EJ Aghassi Feb 2015
the obvious tragedy
torment me torment me
light rain to torrent
puddle to sea
it lines up so
perfectly

these are just some
lines in place of those
I'd rather have led
up my nose
or is it lead?
oh well, who knows
there's sun draping
the flowers that grow

that is what should be
the focus now, those
flowers literally
let it resound
they reach pretty finger
into the ground
embrace the earth
let it resound

the goal is to rise far
above, the putrid petty
pushes and shoves
a pitying glance from
the woman you love
your pride, starved for
romance, worn like
a glove

it's reachable in some
context, though those
roads aren't
illuminated yet
but they lay still
tread-able and you
have able step
light your own way
illuminate yet

it's hard to convey
the meaning, of
this whole mess
feelings and things
I myself don't know
what good it brings
this whole mess
feelings and things
drunk among other things
Sarah Spang Oct 2015
Before this
There was infinity, reachable by tiny fingers
And wide eyes
Scraped knees and
Bobbing heads disappearing into the trees.
'Nilla wafers and nap time
Took us off through the wildest jungles
Sent you drifting with a patched eye across the ocean
With ol' blue beard

One day, stark as the contrast between warmth
And a dash of ice-water
Every illusion used to protect, to comfort
Became as crystal clear
As shattering windshield glass.

I remember that day
I remember the clutch of fabric in my small hands
The spicy, familiar scent as I pushed it into my face
Feeling no warmth behind it, no enclosure of arms
Only the carapace
Your long-sleeved second skins
That filled the rich mahogany dresser
Long after you departed with the last you'd ever wear.

Not touching the cold stranger in the box made it real;
Nor the sound of it's door as it closed.
No, not even the earth piled atop the pile of
Crushed roses
The stone bearing our names.

It was the sweet, lingering scent
The essence you left behind
That had already begun to fade;
The scent that was as unique as rain on fallen leaves
Would one day leave
Just as you did.
Jay M Wong Jul 2013
Oh, dearest future brings not plentiful hopes but plentiful fears,
Oh dearest troubles comes not in singles but in plentiful pairs,
So draw not the sword to fight off thy troubles that come near,
And wield not the shield to defend against the pains that we bear,
But waits the impeding horizon that greatness comes in fiery form,
As thy trouble retreats in fear and treachery upon the passing storm.

Yet pass the horizon is but another reachable horizon before thee,
Yet too awaits plentiful fears and troubles that shall spawn a'sea.
So bare that too, for an impeding horizon is but just ahead,
And through the plentiful pains and sufferings are thy to tread,
And shall wait upon the fleeing of thy troubles and fear of these.
Before the passing of the horizon and see'st another to seize.
Fern Woodward Nov 2012
This was there own personal Neverland.
A place where they lived like adults, but had the responsibilities of kids.
The ultimate freedom of a no strings attached kiss,
selling a bit of their souls with each sinful purchase.
Oh how bad I wanted to be a part of it.

Take me to this corrupt Neverland,
this place of spoiled childhoods and sad futures.
let us dance and laugh and play,
until we die or get sent away.
Utopia seems so reachable while standing in your shoes,
Out of all the worthy people,
I hope I am the one Peter will choose.
for assignment
Michelle Long Feb 2012
I couldn't concentrate. The page of math homework was staring back at me; it was blurry and incomprehensible. Such a simple problem, yet it had seemed like rocket science at that moment. My mind was drawing a blank (which it'd seemed to do a lot of), and I had to rest. I'd hoped that maybe, just maybe I could wake up feeling extravagant and ready to tackle the homework, though, of course, I knew it wouldn't result like that. So let's just say I was being remotely lazy, committing to another episode of procrastination. But, I still found myself stacking my books and folders and things onto the mini table standing in front of my bed, and dozing off.
    Sleep was what I needed, to relax for once.
    Once fallen into a dream, I felt peaceful, like I was floating against a cooling wind and flying through clouds. Of course that all too quickly ended as the dream transited into the same, repetitive nightmare I'd had night after night a lot before then. The dreams consisted of nothingness, just blurs of hate and confusion, filling my mind and scaring me on many levels. The floating then turned to falling, sinking. This went on forever, it seemed, making my dream-stated mind want to hide, striving to wake up.

    And then I did. And it was all over. Just like that, it had happened many times. I never had thought much of it, considering I always forgot about it one minute after waking.
   The night following I had the same dream again. Yet this time it hadn't even given me even the faint happiness in the beginning-no, it went straight to the good stuff. And when I awoke, I was confused and frightened. It'd never hit me quite that hard before. And, I remembered it. Night after night after night, the dream kept coming back. Each new night it deepened and expanded, seeming to last longer than the one before. The nightmare frenzy went on for months, and I had had no idea what to do about it. I'd just hoped it'd straighten itself out given time.
    The only hope I had once captured in the inescapable, never-ending dreams was the eerie sounding of my alarm clock. It woke me up; it saved me from the nightmare abyss. The ambulance-sounding drone-which is enough to drive most people insane-was my savior, it stopped everything in its tracks, it ended the dream altogether and set me free. It felt great to wake up, getting away from the horrid dream world. Well, after I calmed myself down, at least.
    Throughout my days I was becoming even more timid than normal. I felt an unwanted, unseen presence around me. I couldn't pay attention, I could only panic. Hours would just fly by, and I would spend them staring at the wall, afraid to move, afraid to unlock myself into the room surrounding me.

    But, one day, after another sleepless night, something clicked in my mind and I woke up. I told myself I was being stupid, and that there was nothing there. I snapped out of the scared coma and breathed a little. It worked for the moment.
   I managed to content myself watching re-runs of a television show. I felt my eyes become heavy. I needed to sleep, I couldn't resist the urge. Nights before that particular day were restless. So, no matter how hard I fought to stay awake, it was no use.
   I felt my body being dragged across the ground by some great force. My feet began to burn, as faster and faster the force took me. Then my own two feet started moving without effort; they just took off. I felt a burning feeling take over my whole body this time. I screamed and struggled and dug and scratched for any possible grip I could obtain to pull myself away. There was nothing but darkness. I couldn't feel any object, I couldn't feel warmth or coldness, and I could not tell if I was in the air or on the ground. I was just being pulled by my own mind, forcing my feet to keep up with it. I suddenly felt like I was falling again. I was completely numb all the while, trapped by my own mind. Slight screeching noises emerged from behind me, then from above me, from all around me. The noises grew, getting louder and louder, turning into high-pitched screeches. The noises surrounded me. Bounded in my own invisible stance, I still couldn't feel a thing. The screeches became whispering voices, gutting and growling, circling me in. The sound was so horrible, I could feel my ear drums burst, it seemed. I couldn't bare it any longer, the pain was too intense. I found myself kneeling onto the ground, cupping my hands over my ears with fatal attempt to block the sound out.
   Then it all stopped.
    I looked around and found that the darkness had left in exchange for the setting of a room: my bedroom. Except, this room didn't feel like my room, it felt like a prison. I felt as unsafe as possible, even more-so as when I wasn't dreaming. I stumbled forward, feeling the objects around me to gain stamina from being so used to the nothingness. Slowly, steadily I crept towards the door, struggling to open it once I approached it. It wouldn't budge. I banged my fists against the door, tried the **** over and over, and screamed in attempt for someone to rescue me from the outside. It was no use. I broke down, falling to the ground, sobbing in fetal position. I felt so trapped. I had the idea that I was never going to get out, and the claustrophobic feeling I was getting as if the walls were closing in on me wasn't helping it. The walls seemed only a few feet away from touching each other then, as I remained in my place against the wall. I closed my eyes and breathed in, startling myself as I heard the droning call from out of the sky: "Beep-beeeeeep, beep-beeeeep, beeep, beeep, beeep..."
    And I sat up, breaking out into a sob, I felt so paralyzed.
   I spent that next day huddled at the corner of my bed. I had always liked sleeping there because it made me feel more safe and secure. But at that moment nothing felt safe or secure.
    My nightmares were controlling my life.
    Since weeks before that, I'd sensed things amongst me. I felt an orb of evil flow around me everywhere I went, which was why I couldn't calm down. I was sure that I was being haunted, but I had no idea how to fix it. I started going insane, as literal the term as possible. I'd sometimes talked to things that weren't there, screamed at them to leave me alone. I thought I'd seen bodies, and spirits. It was nonstop. I quit going out (even simply going outside), I just sat in my room for hours rocking myself back and forth.
    One night I'd lost it completely. I swore I saw a creature come from the window. It slithered down so easily, I was mesmerized. I snapped back into consciousness (as much as I could have) as its body scampered across the floor like a lizard, nothing ever thought possible to be seen through human eyes. Like something from a dream.
    My body began growing tense. It's only in my mind, I'm just hallucinating, that's it. I told myself as the creature inched forward. I couldn't escape its presence, I couldn't run, I couldn't scream, I couldn't move.
    As its face reached mine I could feel evil swarm around it. I closed my eyes and swallowed.
    In response, the creature let out droning scream... But the scream sounded more like it was coming from an ambulance. As soon as it let out, the thing was gone. Then...everything disappeared. Everything. The room went pitch black, and I could only feel my body suspended in the air. It felt like I was flying, but at the same time, I felt like I was falling.
    The screams became more organized and reachable, almost as if they were coming from a place so near to me. But I couldn't feel or see a thing. Louder, louder, louder they became, as, finally, light hit me.
    I opened my eyes quickly to a white abyss. I blinked and found that it was my molded bedroom wall staring back at me. I sat up in panic, and turned to my wailing alarm clock. It was morning time. I had just woken up.
The flaws of this are abundant and it may not make much sense to many of you -- I understand. This was written when I was a freshman in highschool, completely on the spot, and it was one of the first story(ish)  things I've written, so I'm afraid to let it go. Bear with me.
Sandoval Aug 2017
He was a blank book.

With my ink of sonnets,

I gave him a story,
syllables full of stars.

I made him
readable, interesting, intriguing.

But, the last thing that ever crossed my mind,

was that sitting there,
on that shelf, I also made him

reachable.


*Sandoval
Katherine Smith Aug 2017
When I was young, I would steal the old cassette tapes my parents never listened to and record messages for the stars. At night, I would sneak into the yard and play the recording back, hoping someone was up there, listening. It was a silly thing, really, wishing the stars a good night as though they could hear.

After you died I thought that maybe the messages had been for you all along. It takes years, after all, for things to travel between earth and the heavens. Perhaps I was getting a headstart on missing you.

Now, I know the truth. That I was a kid with nowhere to turn to. That space is a soundless vacuum. That you are gone, reachable only in the moments I press rewind.
Serenus Raymone Oct 2012
They call me gifted

I got it down to an exact science

You can call me scientific

Poetry personified

Powerfully prolific

Rhythmic

So addicting you’ve become dependent

You’re so lost in me

You have no choice

But to defend it

I’ve turned you into a believer

When you were just a cynic

You’re sick

I’ve infected you

Sending you to the clinic

Untreatable

Wide reachable

My mind is an epidemic

A disease that destroys

The things that you

Were taught to mimic

And shows you

That the world around you

Is a cleverly designed gimmick

They call me prophetic

I say no

I’m just not afraid to

Point out the pathetic

Power hungry people

Whose sincerity is synthetic

The futures in their hands

And you’re content to let it?

Some call it rhetoric

I call them irrelevant

Speaking out of the side

Of their necks

Hand held out for paychecks

Employed by evil-Ignoring the Hell of it



They call me gifted

But they can have the same gift

If they open their minds

Don’t disregard the signs

Refuse to stand stiff

Then watch the world shift
Gary Dec 2014
We were once mountains
Standing tall, standing proud.
Mountains of great girth and of great pride.
We were once, the top of this world.
Landmarks, conquest, tourist attractions.
We were once as tall as the clouds.
And where safety , for the Eagles home.
We were once.

We were once, great boulders of strength and of size.
We were once great boulders hanging on for life.
We were once in the mids of this world.
Added beauty and charm to the mountains side.
Became steps to help others achieve their  goals, became hidding spots for smaller animals to hid from their prey.
We were once great boulders.
Relatable, reachable and visable.
We were once.

We were once rocks, that have fallen from the highest of peaks.
Rocks that have been broken, slammed, stepped on to help you achieve.
Rocks that made up the lower grounds of a stream.
Planted, stacked and buried
As a bridge for your feet,
To keep you dry.
We were once rocks.
Used as a grip for your boots, to keep you safe.
As a path to guide you, to all that you achieve.
As caverns for the minnow and his family.
As a safe haven from the piranha.
We were once.

We were once dust
The wearing,
the fragile truth.
Looked upon as not a thing.
We were once.
We are once.
Once
We are all dust.
Once,
We are all the beginning.
Once,
We are all,  the foundation.
Once,
We can see, we are all needed
Once,
We can hear, we are all our own strength.
Once we accept,  all for who they are, all of what we can be.
Once,
We see truth and strength
In unity.
All is just as import to building a powerful mountain.
Once,
All this,
Then, this rocks dust can rebuild
His majestics mountain of strength.
DC raw love Jan 2015
as I get up from sitting behind this desk
my body is full of pain

not from love or hurt
but from a hard days work

as i think about drifting off
i am already planning my next days moves

these are times when i forget about my past
and my drive goes in a different direction

a positive one full of visions
full of faith in what i do

i have been clean from my addiction
for only 9 months and my mind has changed

i no longer chase dope
i chase dreams

my dreams are reachable
they are now coming true

i now have people who now look up to me
instead of down on me

my life has change in an instant
and where did that time go

the memories of my addiction
are know behind me and
only a blurry visions in my mind

all i can say is to one
is to never give up on your life
Hal Loyd Denton Jan 2012
Mystique

Nameless woman you emerge from the shadows even your skin looks like it has been with the long dead
No color can be found just white as a sepulcher a sleep walker who stumbled out of agelessness back
Into time what wisdom do you hold I bid you seek life’s undertow the normal everyday will take care of
Its self splash not in strange waters but submerge yourself slowly the wise ponder and step out of sync
By this kiss you will no longer care to resist so futile are those that chase dreams that are unworthy of
Their time and effort steel bends not except by fire in this world you will tire and never win the prize
Gold has its allure in misconception ascent to the throne will not be done by glitter or brightest facets
From precious stones the risen and esteemed ones have been found in lonely camps in deepest jungle
Dwellings other searchers are drawn to them like a fine jeweled compass at length of time there visit
Ends but more importantly nonsensical rhythms that plagued the searcher has been shown its deceit
And now is rejected personnel wealth and position is now laid in the dust from where it has its origin
Now the narrow life is detested a global modification is put in its place from true center everything is
Reachable and attainable the puzzle that was always a relentless act of false starts with the only given
End it could possibly give just an embarrassing action ending in futility the waters flow without ceasing
To the sea man to acts on reflex his ultimate quest is to make a difference be remembered favorably
How he plants and sows the seeds in the fields of this world with earthen eyes they are so pleasant and
Magnificent their entire macrobiotic root system is just that the total of its end can be quantified
As natural or worse neutral it will follow all harvest it will recede with time eternal dreams have no
Substance or reality in time my lady friend was speaking out of time if you want to catch up to the steps
She has rehearsed here like other wise searchers go to the books left by the man in that jungle
Encampment that she recounted you will recognize his name it is no mystery Albert Schweitzer he had
All earth had to offer education wealth social standing he didn’t squander these grand resources he
Brought them to the highest bargaining table that could ever be found he atoned them through sacrifice
Brought them to gleaming stellar existence as fruitfulness to those in need that harvest supersedes life
And will never fail written in words of eternal flame they will always commend the persons that practice
These essential truths the lady in this piece is quiet renowned in her own right her name is Fidelity      
Unconquerable Wisdom build on her foundation and you will never come to sorrow
ottaross Oct 2015
Laughable
Affable
Reachable
Near

Damnable
Mandible
Crucible
Bone­

Icicle
Tricycle
Sensible
Fear

Inevitable
Dependable
Dispensabl­e
Stone
Francisco DH Jun 2013
When I listen to my heart,
I hear the whispers, the wishes it shoots at the first star it sees.
The hopes and dreams that always seem reachable but then again not reachable.

When I listen to my heart,
I can hear it telling me that I should stay away from him.
I hear the protests and the strain as it tries to pull away
but at the same time I hear it secretly telling itself that it wants.

When I listen to my heart,
I hear the sighs of not wanting to continue with anything.
The tired groans pulse throughout my body.
Telling me that I should stop and rest.

When I listen to my heart,
I hear the blood pump through the veins.
That's all really

When I listen to my heart
I sometimes listen and sometimes don't.
Pain
Some say that it's easy to forget
Others that it'll haunt you forever
But I don't believe that
I feel like pain is a
Reachable
Tangible
thing
That it walks around
Looking for it's next victim
That it is
Everywhere
Everyday
Of our lives
That it waits patiently in a corner
Waiting
Waiting for that moment
That one moment
That you
Mess up
Fall down
Embarrass yourself
Or are hurt
Just so that it can come out
Then it'll sit down beside you
And envelope you in it
And every time that you
Think that your finally free
It'll pull you back in
Soon you'll be surrounded
And you'll give up
Then as you cry
Sob
Or break down
Pain simply gets up
And moves on
Forever repeating it's cycle
Because Pain
Pain you see
Is Immortal

— The End —