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Javaria Waseem Oct 2014
You keep everything valuable covered with the fear
that it's beauty might be ruined with dust.
Yet you uncover yourself with the fear
that you might not be 'valuable' for this world.
Scars and scabs
Come leaking out in drips and drabs
After events that occurred  
And events that shouldn't have
Sand on soles go walking into shoes
And embed themselves there within
Shards of glass buried deep under the skin
Wiggle their way to the surface again
And when life warms to the call of the sun
We pack it all back, for morning has come
Old things get beat down until purple and plum
For newer less blue things to be squeezed under thumb
I worry about my mind and its multitude of storage rooms
Filled with undealt with boxes and musky fumes
Now stuffed to capacity
Those come leaking out too
They tare through the surfaces that have long since been plastered  
And sawed down and painted and polished afterwards
Now my body, heavy and ***** with these returning things
Sheds them part by part in painful rebirth
And after I've been made naked of these morsels in my mind
I'll pack new boxes in my empty  storage rooms from time to time
For a peaceful heart is a dozen a dime
But none is as interesting and messy as mine
Alex Gifford Aug 15
It's that moment
when the pieces
of the puzzle
all combine.

And you see a
glorious picture
that you doubted
that you'd find.

And then after
when the pieces
are inspected
each with care.

You see purpose
and see meaning
each too valuable
to spare.
This came to me all at once. It's an attempt to describe the feeling of your mind being blown when everything lines up and finally makes sense.
Stargazer Oct 2015
Reflect on the valuable lessons of yesterday
without dwelling on her mistakes

Dream with anticipation of tomorrow
but never allow her vision to cloud the purpose of today

Live in the moment
Love life in your current station
Enjoy the now

Even darkest night gives way to the dawn of a new day
Jeff Gaines Apr 2018
She thinks that she is only silver.
Second place, forever and again.
But this girl ... she is so, so much more.
She is my dear, dearest friend.

Her soul, while brighter than the sun,
is tortured by confusion and things in her past ...
lofty goals that would thwart even the toughest
and a lifestyle going so fast.

Courageous ... and meek.
A warrior ... and a flower ... all at the same time.
Legions of followers, those who look up ... never to see,
the little girl who roams in her mind.

She will get were she is aiming ...
my heart believes in her so.
She is strong, stubborn ... so very brave,
and this child inside her grows.

Now distant, I'll still watch her life
unfold

from this abyss, for reasons that may forever remain
untold.

She is far more valuable than any silver, precious gems ...
yes, even gold.

No object d'art or more costly antiquity ...
has ever,
ever been sold.

I only wish that I could have somehow ...
somehow
made her see ...
that as my friend ... she was so, so much more ...
than merely silver to me.
What can ya do ... What can ya say ... when someone just doesn't "get it"?
The grey hair on your head are moonflowers
The wrinkle on your forehead is wine
You need to stop worrying about your body
Cos when I look at you, you’re doing just fine

Stop weighing the things that aren’t important
Cos the valuable things cannot be weighed
Like the air that we breathe or our feelings
Or all the beautiful memories that we’ve made

And what about the magnificent souls inside us
The spirit that tragedies couldn’t break
You cannot weigh the experiences that made you
Like those moments we spent sitting by the lake

The scar on your cheek is a white butterfly
The fat on your tummy is snow
You need to stop worrying about your weight
Embrace yourself and let self doubt go
"One lie weakens a thousand truths."

"Time heals, steals and reveals."

"Karma finishes what revenge neglects."

"The future is uncertain, but we play a part in its design."

"Help when you can, pray when you can't."

"If your life is out of focus, it's time to change the lens."

"Honesty is in the alcohol."

"The only thing better than a second chance is never needing one."

"Sometimes the most valuable company is yourself."

"Instincts over impulse, always."

"The greatest comeback is the one least expected."

"Fear is a light sleeper."

"You can't change the past, but it can change you."

"Some are born with a silver spoon, others with a pitchfork."

"Even the smallest of pebbles has its place in the sand."

"The humble voice resonates the loudest."

"Write your failures in pencil, your triumphs in ink."

"Scars speak every language."

"Two things you should always trust: your gut and your God."

"Every tear leaves something behind."

"Courage brings you to the fight, wisdom wins it."

"Relationships start and end, but the lucky ones get to begin again."

"The devil doubts. The angel accepts."

"Biggie makes you dance. Tupac makes you think."

"Justice is money green."

"The only thing better than good friends are lifelong ones."

"I'm in a fight with life and I'm losing on points."

"We are remembered for three things: the times we did good, the times we did bad and the times we did nothing."

"Every underdog wants to be top cat."

"Love never travels alone."

"Dreams reveal what thoughts conceal."

"The problem with the world is the wolves outnumber the sheep."

"You can't spell tragedy without rage."

"Focus on the valley and the hills will disappear."

"When you ignore pain, it ignores you."

"The past and future are distant cousins."

"Hope is always listening."

"Moonlight is for lovers and devils."

"Nothing will get you in better shape than a breakup."

"Time is a tattletale."

"Sometimes all that's left is a penny and a wish."

"There's a special place in heaven for those who suffer on earth."

"We are connected by smiles and tears."

"The mirror mimics what the mind imagines."

"If infidelity was a crime they would have to build more prisons."

"What the blind man sees, the sighted man seeks."

"The ego is a phony friend."

"Luck will take you as far as fate allows."

"Two things that never forget: elephants and broken hearts."

"My train of thought has no conductor."
Tristan Currie Nov 2015
Your situation can change, your location might change,
Your timing with other people will change.

Respect yourself and other's self.
Share the good salt, RELATE!
Don't pretend, or imagine that you once tried.

Rant often and without reason.
risk happiness

Sincerity only requires threefold more effort to be recognised
than the effort required to fake a good image.

Yet, sincerity, as a liveable reputation,
is a thousand times more valuable than being favoured.
Don't fear death.
Who died before?

The body's a shell life consumes.
Who knows where the soul goes?

If there's a hell then I'll be in good company,
So why be scared?
If there is a heaven, I'll break into it. After all,
Who would prevent this?
If everything ends, then we've work to be done:
Let's be adventurous together.

My soul is aflame in this
continuum of days/continuous daze.
I'm content to pour fire on it and watch the blaze.

Follow my lead,
Breathe with me.

I'm going to play Drugs on guitar,
Ratatat and we're all on the floor.

Sentience is the greatest power in the universe,
And each of us hold it; growing consciousness.

Hard to believe something so valuable
is a commodity. Let's not commodify it.

Exponential sentient expansion occurs
when we dare to walk between "the doors".
Through venturous exploits, discovery awaits.
Quote:
Line Twenty-Three references The Doors of Perception (1954) by Aldous Huxley.
Our Eyes, our precious eyes, God´s comfort
they are the windows to our heart
God will never take away this greatest valuable support
He is healing all the ailing parts
He is a God of Greatest Love
His Residence is straight above
We can never imagine His Love for us
so greatest, that surpasses truly all things with plus
believe in Him as a child is truly a must

my heart is crying all the time, my dearest Kim
terrible monsoon inside all parts
please, know that all poets here love you very much to the brim
and we all pray for your well being
hear the beating of our praying hearts....


created with love,
Sylvia Frances Chan
This humble verse is meant as a support for our dearest Kim, who is still suffering from ailing eyes. May this verse contribute a tiny bit to your healing process, please have patience, God hears all prayers, sure.
Jayantee Khare Dec 2017

Mind can be a Spider ...

Swinging between the things
Spinning a web of threads
Elastic thin intricate
To hunt food for self
Or end up eating itself...

~One can be a think tank
Stuck, but no outcome

Or

Mind can be a Silkworm as well..

Confined in darkness
Spinning a cocoon of fibres
Strong lustrous fine
To be weaved into
Useful valuable fabric...

~One can be a writer
weaving words twined with thoughts
into beautiful write

Just a thought to ponder upon....
Mykle Matwaya Jan 23
Throughout the course of this life, I, just like you, have made my fair share of mistakes. To compensate for that & also out of a fear of letting others down or causing pain or suffering to anyone other than myself, over the years I have tried to hone to almost perfection, the habit of seeing down the line when it comes to the decisions I make and the chances I take. But alas, no one is perfect, especially not I.

Although I was compelled to grow up long ago, I feel as though I am still a young man, a young man with old values. Values like honor, loyalty, dignity and a wonderful sense of shame, which compliments the first three aforementioned values quite well. Traits far removed from the gooey 'Quick’mix’d Battered' personalities we find ourselves standing shoulder to shoulder with in the oven of today’s irreversible societal meltdown. Everyone seems to have forgotten to teach their off-spring of that which makes life worth living & keeps the world turning. Which is of course, living for others just as much as we live for ourselves. Unfortunately, due to the selfish pace of today, rarely is anyone noticed for their gestures towards humanity. The reason for this phenomenon, being of course; Man Kinds evolution into the Narcissistic Vampire he is today. And as a result of this, not only do our efforts towards one another merely go unnoticed & unappreciated, but far worse than that, courtesy is no longer even recognized for what it is and so therefore is rarely reciprocated and thus, phased out. And as a result; Man Kinds new triumphant mutation, 'The All-consuming Ego', is free to simply **** the meaning out of all that was once so valuable to the fabric of human society, while arrogantly presuming to be deserving of it all anyways, regardless of it's contribution to anyone or any thing. Now the ego acts as a new type of biological O rgan, an invisible 'Iron Lung'. Processing the very niceties that once separated us from the beasts, as if they were just like any other natural resource. But there is a difference & that difference is that these are human resources and in my opinion are just as valuable as the air we breathe, and just as  sweet as the water we drink. Manners are things to be noticed, cherished and savored. They are decency's, gifts, that when given & returned, should impart on us the feeling of being recognized for our own decency and our own efforts towards our fellow man.

However, since Man has placed his Ego at the forefront, where once stood the Human Heart, 'It' now sits at the receiving window, absorbing and indifferent, and instead it all goes unnoticed, unrecognized and unappreciated just like a gulp of air and is simply exhaled without a second thought as to how precious it really was.

If you were able to ask a fish, to name one thing which It considered to be, both the most obvious aspect of his environment and also the thing most essential to the survival of its species, the last thing it will mention is the water...

Ask a man today the same question, but replace the words “his environment” with “humanity” and the last thing He will mention is another human being.

But I digress…

You'll have to excuse me. I am after-all a true romantic in every sense of the word and I have always been quite partial to dramatic effect. I consider myself a realist, a term too often confused with having a negative outlook. I beg to differ. In a world gone mad, I just prefer to keep my eyes wide open and my head in the game, as opposed to having it shoved all the way up my own a$$ like most. And although the world may not be so pretty out here, at least it’s real, as am I.
Please allow me to make something abundantly clear; I never have been, nor will I ever be, anyone special. And being aware of these facts is still far better than pretending that both of them are anything other than just that, facts! I find no comfort in self-congratulation, self-delusion, or deliberate oblivious ignorance.
I am what I am.

What more can I say?
Another year come and gone and just like the rest of the world, it seems things for me too have only grown worse.
I am void of regret, none old, and none new. And for the exceptions of my Daughter and the Almighty Himself, I apologize for nothing and to no one else. After a lifetime of experiences and lessons learned,
all that I am truly certain of, is that I am still here. And unfortunately, so are most of you.
And I also know this, I am still standing. Upright, with both feet planted firmly in reality and God willing, that is exactly how I intend to remain.There is not one ****** thing in this world which I have any control over and everything I have ever wanted, I have never gotten, and everything I have ever had, has been taken from me.
And yet here I remain. Standing, till the day I die. And when that day comes, the depth of the grave will be twice as deep,
to bury me upright & on my feet.
Immovable-
em Jun 2015
65 years from now when my grandchild looks me and asks me
"Grandma do your cheeks look like they are falling and why does your backbone rise higher than the rest of you?"
I will answer:

Baby girl what they don't teach you in school is that the older you get the more gravity pulls at you.
Keeping your feet planted and your mind out of the clouds.
Life moves down instead of forward.

Bones grow frail and muscles shrivel up and weaken just like your ability to dream.
Dream of what you’re going to be,
"when you grow up" because,
darling this is it. I'm all grown up.
I am all I was ever meant to be.
My clay has hardened,
no longer able to bend and curve with the wind.  
Too weak to keep walking forward.

That is why baby run while you still can,
discover the world.
Leave footprints in every corner of existence,
because when you're as old as me your feet will be sore
and won't be able to venture deeper into the pockets of the universe.
Roots now bind me to this little house where I will keep moving down.

Gravity is too strong for me now dear. My skin has already given up. Succumbing to the mighty force. Falling away from my bones that lie hollow inside my cheeks engraved,with the memories too valuable lose after  lifetime.
So that when this world had
changed,
beyond recognition,
I will still hold inside of me the days that I spent in the sun .

As for my back.
Honey, the best thing you can have is a backbone ,
because when everything in this world in pulling you down,
you're going to need something
to keep holding you up.

My backbone,
a tribute to the years
I spent tiptoeing across
the coal beds of this life’s mighty fire.  But one day it will turn into a white flag of surrender.

That is when you know that gravity has won.
I will sink back into the earth
and maybe start again…
this is a spoken word piece that i wrote today and will be performing at a small thing tommorow, ahhhhh I have less that 24 hours to practice and memorize plus I'm doing this and 2 more so I'm kinda freaking out! wish me luck ;)
Andrew Rueter Oct 2017
There's a fight between us
In every imaginable way
You could call it a match
But that would be misleading
When we focus on our differences
Versus is what we find interest in

I turn on the news
To watch illegal aliens versus ****** predator
There's a wall between them
That has a money stem
And perceptions
Of bad intentions
Even our valuable verses versus
When critics can't agree what to purchase

Us versus them
When us is me
And them is you
Rich versus poor
Bush versus Gore
The churches versus each other
On points as minor as the cover
They attack a mirror
As hatred becomes clearer

We fight constant battles
Our brain constantly rattles
From the anxiety brought by our fellow man
But when our anxiety is part of their plan
To rule the timid
We hit our limit
For love we plead
To counteract greed
Because when it's us versus ourself
Look what that does to our health
Deb Jones Jan 2
To be loved
To love

To never forget
We are all but a grain of sand

To never get used to
Unspeakable violence

To see the atrocities in the
World and cry for their pain

To never look away
And pretend we didn’t see

To seek joy
In the most unlikely places

To pursue beauty
Until our eyes are enchanted

To never complicate what is simple
Or simplify what is complicated

To ask why
To ask why!

To never forget
For forgetting is intolerable

To respect strength
Not power

To watch
And try to understand

To never look back on decisions
Already made and done

To know regrets are valuable
If lessons were learned

To meet everyone with a smile
Without judging
Color
Religion
Political views
Or who they love

To overcome
To rise above
And realize
All it takes
Is love

To try to make your life matter
Not in an attempt to gain anything
But in small quiet ways
That make your heart sing

These are the words that define
Us as human beings
Let’s stop wasting us
To overcome
to rise above
and realize
all it takes
is love
~Temporal Fugue
Lucius Furius Aug 2017
It promised to be quite ordinary,
that old student/new student/faculty social hour.

I had come to Champaign with high hopes a year earlier,
starting a new career (--and hoping to find someone to love).
Now, with just three months left,
my studies had been a success,
but I had not found anyone to love.
And now I was thinking beyond Champaign:
where I would go, what I would do with my new degree.

I scanned the faces in the crowd.
Mixed in with all-too-familiar classmates and teachers were new people:
A formidable, blonde-haired woman
with a big voice and a large imitation pearl necklace;
no meek, retiring librarian here; a Valkyrie.
A guy with wire-rimmed glasses in his early twenties;
congenial, but serious; he had studied engineering.
A girl; stylish, extroverted;
loved Faulkner; engaged to be married.
A sensitive, thirty-ish woman; recently divorced;
her ex had stuck her with a mountain of credit card debt.
And you, in a pink dress.
No jewelry, not much makeup.
Nice figure.
Very simple, very pretty.
A wonderful smile.
Obviously bright.
You had gone here as an undergraduate.
You had taught school in Iowa for several years
and now were back to get a Library degree.
You had grown up on a farm.
You were eminently lovable.
You were, amazingly, unmarried.

I felt that I was at an art exhibition in nineteenth century France.
Here was Raffaelli's "Boulevard of the Italians"
which had sold for 500 francs.
Over here Lecomte de Nouy's "Ramses in His Harem"
which had brought 1900.
And over here in the corner, neglected,
Van Gogh's, "The Artist's Room at Arles".
I felt like shouting,
"My friends, can't you see the beauty of this painting:
its simplicity and purity, its energy; the symphony of its colors!
You have opted for these smooth, conventional paintings
and left this one, the most valuable of all, unsold. . . ."

I felt like hugging you, right then and there.

You were number two or three on my all-time "instant attraction" list.
But I was wary -- so many others had not worked out, why would you?

Our first date was a "Streetcar Named Desire".
I put my arm around you during the play and held your hand as we walked back    toward your apartment.
I invited you to "Bubby and Zadie's" cafe. You refused and offered no alternative.
I was devastated. So this, too, would come to nothing.
We would walk the three blocks back to your apartment.  We would say    goodnight.
I would go home and cry. That would be that.

But when we arrived, my hopes soared: you invited me up to your apartment. You really just didn't like Bubby and Zadie's -- and you liked and trusted me well enough that the intimacy of your apartment didn't seem inappropriate. We talked for a long time and kissed. When I left, all traces of wariness were gone. The coming weeks would not be ordinary.
Hear Lucius/Jerry read the poem: humanist-art.org/old-site/audio/SoF_058_champaign.MP3 .
This poem is part of the Scraps of Faith collection of poems ( https://humanist-art.org/scrapsoffaith.htm )
Love's, but a *** of fool’s gold
It has you captivated, and excited about finding something valuable, then you wake up, and find that ti's but just a fake. It can stab you in the back and hurt worse than a stake. Love is, but a *** of fool’s gold you may find, and behold. But remember its but a *** of fool’s gold.
I was inspired when I heard of a poem called fools gold. And I decided to write a different poem about how love can catch your eye and still be a frod, well love these days are most likley to be fools gold, but there is always going to be real love out there nomader how the world changes, there is a *** of gold at the end of every rainbow (every good one anyways..). https://hellopoetry.com/poem/1954189/fools-gold-to-a-romantic-soul/
KiraLili Feb 2018
I want to listen more
Be conscious and uber aware of what I make and feel as I make it
And hear it
Engage in the valuable conversations that surrounds this art and all arts
Reflect on the journey that each creator takes
What does the content mean
Where does ones awareness take there pen or brush
When it crashes through the fog of our societal cocoons
Into new growth spiralling from our cyclical existence
There I want to find
To experience often
The moment of cohesion
When the spark in our soul
Sets aflame
The genesis of artistic creativity
Uzzie Aug 2018
She smiles with wounds hidden
Beaten by sticks
Thrown by stones
And yet she still remains the Queen on the Throne.

She is sometimes treated
as passing paper
blown by winds
that illuminate stains on streets
As his feet seek to *****
her cleansed soul within...

The baggage she carries.
The shades of burden she walks with.
The sorrow that she has married.
As she feel like dust
as it has no value
when it's wiped of valuable goods..

He enters her purse
as she is not obliged to
be taken advantage of
By him who played the characteristics
of a two-faced lover...
All thanks to lust.

The beauty of a woman
not appreciated.
All her struggles fail
to define her, but are then told
because they are the reason of
UBUHLE BENTOMBI!!
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