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On the bridge
between waking and sleeping
I met my father's eyes.

So beautiful and dark,
filled with quiet trouble,
and with tender invention.

Here in this nature park
green branches reach out
to one another, embracing
the air and the sky, touching,
sending chills down each other's
bark and trunk, meeting overhead.

You, my youngest brother, have
our father's eyes, and they are eyes
of pain and tenderness, of caring
every day for our beloved, ailing planet.

Above our heads, just now, down at the bottom
of the road to Ely Ford, sycamores carry thousands
of backlit leaves, each a green window into its own reality.

Who could have known that after so many months of silent solitude,
giving up completely on the illusory version of love,
a new beginning to life would begin as clearly and simply
as the moment when a butterfly, shoulders hunched in the final stages
of imprisonment within its sacred cocoon, knows unswervingly that
this is the day to bust loose, to slowly stretch wet, untried wings,
gingerly begin to flex her coloured, powdery, armature:
learning the way trust in truth and goodness
frees one completely.

*And sheets, and sheets of white light wash over me.
Sheets and sheets of white light wash over me.
©Elisa Maria Argirò
Liz Humphrey May 2012
I’ve found that my indefinable truths are hard to hide.
I can’t hold on to what I don’t fully understand,
it escapes from me unhindered by the label I've yet to stick on it.
Then how easily the world captures what I can’t even find words for,
how quickly it encircles what I perceive boundless,
for my truth must belong in this box or that box and
when it’s all wrapped up and labeled accordingly,
the world delivers my truth back to me, and tells me
I can accept and acknowledge or reject and deny this gift of a definition.
So generous, to give me options, yet
somehow I suspect that I have no choice, for
because I cannot define what I hold unswervingly and confusingly true,
the world and its definition will always appear more credible than me.
When your dance a bounty, yet sing
they fail – I have learned to love,
worrisome mother and adorn you:

such a kiss is planted
a rose on the plump cheek of children.
your girth measures unflinchingly,
the laughter of the world around you
so small, kept in a dark, blinkered box.
your parasol smothers the light
cast unswervingly on stone.
who has long kept you in the caliginous womb,
with all the light that spangles through?
who has snuffed your little arms
and dressed you for everyone to see?
when you are quite flamboyant for
everyone to feast on,
what word passes on as salutation?
when you are festive enough to revel in,
what pagoda tries itself to the life
allowed to gleam proudly?

women, men, children, and all -
frolicsome around the darkled bough
smitten by the frayed sight of believing,
sifting from the way our hands
craft things the dispensable glee
of glasswork: the world is Murano.
and my eyes have seen all flourish
in a darling ebb of curbed felicities – the diaphanous
clangour of steel and shadow.
the slain orchestra of frogs in the crush of rain.
the detriment of the Earth curled like an infant
in the womb of the dark.

     - oh trees and their wondrous life of green,
begin to question the wind and its tourniquet;
shadows drunk on turpentine, the spry wilt of hours:
what is their final duty?
   if our laughter is slain in the perils of night,
how are we to become them?
aurora kastanias Oct 2017
Icy clusters of rocks and dust, leftovers
Of extra matter scattered around a star.
Following the orbit guiding a perpetual run,
For seeing creatures to gaze at midnight skies
In search of glistening shooting lights.

Comets, so named by the ancient man,
Enchant humans to strive and understand,
Beholding their subliming approach to the Sun,
Where radiations and winds melt solids to sparkle
Spews of gas. An aura, a coma and a tail.

Nebulosity inclosing the nucleus confers
On the object a misty glow, distinguishing it
Form a star, hiding water in volatile form.
Tails extending to astronomical units lose
Trails of debris at times, visible to the naked eye.

When finally orbital highways cross,
Meteor showers arise. Debris igniting
As falling stars, enter the atmosphere.
Perseids in August begot by Swift-Tuttle
Comet, Orionids in October by Halley's.

Games of splendour to remind us where
We come from and how it all began.
When antediluvian comets did not shy away
From colliding unswervingly with Earth,
Reach its crust. Inundating the planet with H2O,

For us to be here, witness the show.
On stars and comets
Terrin Leigh May 2015
unswervingly unsure, but
naturally seeking praise
lost in fluctuating status
overt critic; herself
cutting the repulsive
knowing the faulty cure
each thought convinced,
deemed unworthy

poetically sad
open to love not
timid, she crawls out
every ray shines down
numb to passes
thriving, cage ajar
in total abandon
assuredly she flies
leaving him behind
.


This very far which mine eyne doth
                           vision
          the many furrowed shes
                             ouch
         whom hath cramped mine live
                        mine wild
          for the feral precocious
                             yikes
              nubile nymphettes
            the rapid flap of their
                      new vibrissa
      unswervingly mine bearing

                       To mine left
                    the sophic hers
                      to mine right
                  enraptured with I
                          mine me
            hern germinal corporeal
                               too
          hern precocious expressive

                              Ahhh
                  ­       dwindling
      the hemp which the sophic shes
                              twist
            whilst mine cerebral spills
                                too
                      ­ the young shes
                              swell
Mammoth hello to the poets here!
Radhica Kumar Jun 2019
What does being broken mean?
What does being lost mean?

She woke up to moments of unsubdued
She woke up clueless as to what she ought to do.

She walked outside but regrets became obvious.
She walked outside unsure of one's purpose.

She kept listening to bottomless music.
She kept dancing to relentless music.

No amount of books can protect her from what she feels.
No amount of films can conceal the pain for her heal.

She is broken.
She is lost.

She kept it all.

Kept it, and found nothing but cold under the sun.
Kept it, and found pain during rain.
Kept it, and found loneliness under the moon rays.
Kept it, and found no constellation to the twinkling of the stars.

She was broken.
She was lost.

She kept it.

She prayed for peace and had it.

She wakes up to moments of deep breaths.
She wakes up to pursue purpose.

She walks thorougly for she was indeed uncrippled.
She walks unswervingly for she was blind no more.

She listens as profoundess is found in the songs that her soul sings.
She dances to the beat of her finally, unwavering heart.

Such amount books gave new chapters of life filled with twists and things she didn't thought she'd look forward to,
Such amount of films opened hope in the way her eyes was filled with spark and curiosity,

At last, her strings gave in to ease
She knew she always had Him.
Hence, the warmth of the sun filled her back with support.
Hence, the unending pour of rain to her hands and arms as she extends it remind her that Someone's got her and she'll not be the fallen, not anymore.
Hence, moonlight reminded her of her faith and optimism to life.
The stars, o the night's brightest of the most brightest one's appear a memoir of her infinite thoughts gave her beauty and enchanting passion to all things that she does.

Slowly, looking up at the sky.
She squints her eyes as wrinkles at the sides of her face show up.
She feels all at once.

And there she was finally free.
After beguiling charisma,
damnable excoriations fixedly,
gamely, horribly, insult jesting,
kibitzing, loosely mindless nattering,

outlandish pablum, quintessentially
representing senseless trumpeting,
unswervingly vapid wordy
X-DOUBLE-MINUS
yawping zest.

If ye did not already guess from thee
above blimey claptrap, Das English flap
doodle glib human incorporates jokingly,
kookily, laughably mashedup nonsensical,

oddly, peculiarly, questionably ridiculous,
spluttering total unintelligible virtually
witless Xmas yakking zany tripe
writes hello albeit as Abbott Long Winded.

This uneventful life of mine desperately
clings (nee plaintively begs cessation
from ****** condemnation since...well,
when alma mater of fact abracadabra magic)

assailed, thence rendered blinkered existence
moot. Prolongation experiencing sustained
nirvana, wrought pitiless cooptation diminishing
enlightened fruition. No matter impossible

to believe omniscient prediction nearly came
to naught. Instant karma graced ecstatic grandeur.
This abbreviated attestation cognitively laughable,
a mere figment of imagination. Ultimate acquisition

asper beholding heavenly jurisdiction limited to
infinitesimal immeasurable marginalization.
Representation allowing, enabling, and providing
sustained self actualization, a willow o the wisp

pipe dream visitation. Appetite whetted
via smidgen spiritual delectation. Now angelic
amplification, declaration, and glorification stymied,
and only briefly espied, when unfettered temptation

sensing an Indus scribe Hubble lucubrate fashioned
afterlife became accidentally accessible. Now???
Utter Pradesh futility, imbecility, and lunacy
to experience sublimation viz cosmic conscious

Creator! Impossible to lie prostrate, thence
whisper vis a vis instigation, intonation, and/or
invocation lamentably ordaining realization
sans, re cap cha, analogous to verboten fruit,

which similarly anointed, when faint approximation
(fulfilling fleeting fatherhood feint), the  
******* exaltation additionallygrounded.
Thus a blackened imprecation exponentially

fulminates, pestiferously quakes, and
sycophantically tortures purposely, viciously
increasesing prolongation of deprivation.
Despair erodes faithful generation formerly

harvesting insightful joyous kinship with long
lost loves. Salivation for salvation even pronounced
via declaration for crucifixion. Mine kismet grounded
spiritual gypped facilitation instills voluntary extradition.

This native American son willingly adopted
Alfred E. Neuman disguise. Outfitted thus,
while astride Red Baron (docile caparisoned horse),
I will sacrifice mortality surrendering selflessness

to trumpeting, and subsequent permanent deportation
among grateful dead, who defy condemnation
at the price of corporeal longevity. Hallelujahs,
hexameter hosannas, and hurrahs vocalized.

Transition thru divine gabled (invitation only)
dominion extolling democratization, a lifelong
(qua death short) aspiration alm ma LIX spittled
emotionally kudzu choked up existence. Now

blessed eternal peace handily given after thine
incessant pleading,whereat each outstretched palm
olive adrip with perspiration. Redemption (though
atheistic bent) effort likened to universalistic,

naturalistic, holistic, and cathartic balms despite
all this twaddle i.e. unnecessary verbalization,
sans obfuscation, jocular equivocation.
Translation even more onerous from this: Man
Hue Sscript!
Asper sweaty palms,
and other physiological ills
nothing beats infusion of
spine tingling electrifying chills -
experiencing psychological nirvana,
(nope NOT even
prescription medication pills)

except attaining, experiencing, and succumbing
delivering to ****** flesh, sans
nightly cathartic, intrinsic dream changing stills
and pacific inner calm gained,
thru shuteye, which tranquility
vis a vis REM hark able slumbers instills

necessary linkedin kickstarter instagram
godaddy transcendent reddit state, and fulfills
verity corroborated by perusing reliable
opinions painstakingly researched tracts
compiled by hands of
expert sleep specialists quills.

No surprise to me reading
(easy to understand)
judiciously, meticulously, and
professionally researched studies,
which unswervingly demand
the absolute zero tolerance

to deny deep jeep grand
(Cherokee) surrender into the land
where lovely bones and flesh
at rest, the agreed stand
hard quota of about seven hours finds
Melatonin the naturally occurring hormone,

secreted by the pineal gland
augmenting figurative trip wire,
where entire corporeal being fanned
by naturally biochemical processes
as if...complex species
guided by invisible hand.

Today, upon arising
without deafening vacuum
cleaner, yours truly did not feel gloom
me, nor rankle, an ordinarily mellow (Hume
more wrist) fellow, nee unlike
yesterday morning, where boom
ming ear splitting cacophony

gravely rented death stillness
unwittingly did exhume
even the grateful dead,
they did fuss and fume
(lumbering like 10,000 maniacs)
furious with rage

unbridled as many a jilted groom
(imagine a billion infuriated room
*** hating thwarted lovers) assume
ming stanced ready to throttle throat
of she that chose to clean house
no matter engendering global sonic boom.

— The End —