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Ivy C Drape Sep 2015
we have a
wander
& a
wonder
so why
can't we
have a
wunder
?
Souleater Dec 2017
Das Land verbreitet Hass Tiraden,
Jetzt ist der Zeitpunkt, stellt euch auf die Barrikaden
kämpft für euer Glück
ihr bekommt es nicht einfach so zurück...
Es ist klar das es nicht einfach wird!
Habt keine Angst und zeigt euren Mut, tut nicht so als ob ihr nichts hört
ansonsten sehen wir alle Blut
wenn ihr jetzt nichts tut,
schürt ihr nur weiter die Glut...

Die Welt ist eins
Donald Trump nicht nur deins!
Ist Freiheit nichts wert ?
Ist das der Grund warum jeder weiter fährt ?
Wollen wir uns wirklich selbst zerstören?
Es ist an der Zeit zuzuhören!

Wie konnten wir es nur soweit kommen lassen ?
Wir haben doch keinen Grund zum hassen...

Nach all den Jahren nichts gelernt aus unseren Fehlern
die Friedhöfe werden voll sein mit Gräbern...

Macht und Gier, das ist es worum es geht
eigentlich verwunderlich das sich die Welt noch dreht
es gibt genug Grausamkeit auf dieser Erde,
der Grund warum ich nicht aufgeben werde.
Denkt nach was wir erreichen können wenn wir frei von Vorurteilen sind
Freiheit zu spüren klingt unglaublich, wie das Wunder von Kind
silvervi Sep 17
Im Ozean des Vertrauens tanze ich, schwebe ich, verliere kurzfristig den Halt und finde ihn wieder,
Der Ozean ist endlos, nur die Sicht kann ich verlieren, aber die Ruhe kehrt wieder ein, sobald ich loslasse...
Ich schwebe und schwebe und es ist ruhig, still und klar um mich herum. Ich sehe dann, dass es sich ausbreiten möchte.
Der Ozean ist und war immer sicher für mich.
Die innere Panik hatte mich verunsichert und den Ozean gefährlich erscheinen lassen.
Ich darf hier atmen. Ich kann mich bewegen. Ich werde mich nicht verirren. Ich bin und bleibe frei.
Mit dir. Und das ist ein Wunder, das ich hiermit zu würdigen und zu fassen versuche.
Ich bin hier. Ich verbinde mich mit meinem Herzen. Das ist alles, was es braucht.
Du schwebst auch. Du und ich zusammen im endlosen Ozean-Universum.
Es fühlt sich immer leichter an, je mehr ich loslasse. Das ist Vertrauen für mich.
Loslassen. Hier sein. Glauben. Wissen. Fühlen.
Wie es sich anfühlt, endlich zu vertrauen und frei zu sein.
If you think of me
What you think
Mateuš Conrad Mar 2021
poza godziny: tzn.
   wypełnić dzień - dniem...

   too eager to retract "complexion"...
if that is even, remotely, available:
as a Caucasian standard...
return to my mutter-zung(e)...
some great migration
i'm guessing something borrowed
from history i'm guessing
the Copernican "revolution" had its zenith
now is the time of: everything vogue Darwin...

to find an hour in a day and do X -
the algebra notation
rather than the phonetic
i.e. xylophone for starters...
through the chalk-&-cheese grinder
sizzzzzzzle...
drone strike at the snore and snorkel...
unless... fax
me the details... it comes "last" or not
least "late"...
how sigma "behaves" or was
otherwise discovered
to be:
cedilla at some point...
     cursor...
            sNAKEs...
                      σN∀ʞƎς
                                        s'nay'x...

rather "unnecessary" but a must...
bothersome these strict barriers
and when / but when one returns
to the cascade of sounds
and what's to be said: sung...
thought & therefore seen...
i can forgo all the tux-juxtaposing
and a: dozen or so penguins...

bravado... one can try to read
a newspaper...
one does... one even uses this royal
****-off route to mind
what matters...
as an extension of
james marriott's book review...
i was a fan of jordan B peek-a-boo...
when all things in the wunder-land
of tubes: how was copperwire
invented? asked my glaswegian
english teacher? two scots arguing over
a penny... or a: PENCE - je pense!

newspapers have really taken a
hit for audience size, competition...
on the sideline you notice this...
"grief"...
what worked for the 20th century
propagandists... doesn't work now...
at all... no factions just... fractions...
and people in the congested
equation, somehow too...

it can be, or rather is, absolutely: unamusing that
one must have a mother...
for that matter - that there are two -
what with death being the second -
altogether: through and through -
unamusing and, or rather stringent:
      unmoveable shards of darkened ice...
at first that's about it...
        as one does when *** is a "waste"
or that ******* is something
    a typo for a metaphor for a misnomer
of what can't possibly be genocide -
or if it is: a solo project of an equivalence
that's met when...
scrubbing the dead skin parmesan
       off the soles of your feet...
    or having your hair cut...
          or engaging in grotesque pâtisserie...
i.e. pinching a loaf...
sitting on the... throne of thrones
for the holy trinity to congest the time...
frankly... there are not enough
hours in a day to
congest them with listening to
bbc radio 3...
i tried to cram as much radio 4
when in bed with a strict take on
a loss-of-shadow-hangover:
body as if a mollusc esque-form...
not borrowing from Kafka and yet...
glistening with a glitter and primordial
saliva gob-slob jacuzzi...
gurgle at every turn... gurgle-gurgle
and froth to ******: withs... bau-bau-bubbles...

but i'm thankful for the comparison:
and my own little life too...
little so little it doesn't dare to raise
notions of hierarchy...
that there is a hierarchy that's all
the better:
no one's moving up... no one's
moving down... plateau of plateaus...
but when i suckle at the bottle...
and it's a bottle of ink i can't spill
while i'm also drinking for a tease
of... teasing humour...
and i haven't written awhile...
while i pick up something grandiose
to experiment with... like...
bbc 3 will champion clarice lispector
but not machado de assis...

but agreed... what happened to
the "unread": i'll come dangling on
a hot-air balloon... screaming maxims...
first of most: or 'of all'...
i'll probably buy a bicycle and cover
those distances walked...
from havering-atte-bower
to... st. paul's cathedral...
coldharbour...
epping... in half the time it would
otherwise require me to tame
a marathon...

exemplar status... when i arrived in Paris
on my own i was not filled
with anything Stendhal likened imitation /
overbearing / copycat implicitness
(no implicity) -
         i exhaust the right to write more
than any of my drinking unfathomable
cruising through bottle and bottle:
message after message...
crab feet...
            giraffe necks...
scissor when expecting...
                           bamboo pincers... etc.

otherwise finally arrived at:
this "finally arrived" at
                dź (дь)
no vs. dż (дъ) otherwise...
what do i do with a "3":
                   эз: mind m'ah f'ez...
butter-fingers: deutsche! primo!
if my schnörkellos & butterfinger...
does you any harm...
crescendo + from the Urals
of the plural S... tomb of the vicinity-"victor"...

Paris... on the night of the Bataclan
stampede for bones, bruises,
tendons and sinew...
and offal... like... chicken heart...
chicken stomachs...
like that night when i was painting
my bedroom drenched in rose...
in chemical red
looking out for those mantis eyes
of lore like a bored
housewife of Pompeii...
before the irrittion
of the gods and the Huns...
drenched me with stuff all morbid
and splodgy...

suppose a ghost invites me to:
close a door...
suppose a door
suppose closure...
suppose the presupposition of...
****** theatrical null
and then a peacock of genesis...
a phoenix of exodus....

       a big chin 'arry delves into
structuring thinning...
who's a who who (a) what's already been given...
triptych on the buckle:
less hooves of horses charging
anti: against chaffs of wheat and more...
this sinking sensation requesting me
to make drown of all things
spec-tac-ular...

yonker: *****...
             mr. se(o)ul... his says...
says he:
           is any 'n' every...
Trafalgar Sq. presupposing
a Na-po-le-on...
to a somewhat... be...
well done.. boiling down:
the...         knuckles...
heave this limbo of cartilage :

oh i'm very much adapted
to...
insomnia
and "insomnia" libido too...

quake... nothing passes...
a biscuit might...
"crumble"...
a clown might poke fun
at making a...
"jellyface".
I found the birds circling above an ancient stone ,
as the skies were gettin darker ,
their. clouds  once blue now crimson and black in colour .

Alas  the birds didn’t make a sound ,
they didn’t swoop down ,or croak , or . Caw  !                                          Yet I was transfixed by what I saw ,
and so  my bones were broken  without number .
I fell unto the ground ,
and I prayed to God if I should should not see out this day ,
at least if they be scattered to the four corners of the earth
Should they ever be found ? .

That beast or man might not find them ,
or dig them up from the ground ,
or birds of prey scavage or use them for nests ,
then fly away .





Then I saw four creatures circling above the earth ,
with the moon and the sun,
along with billions of stars all rolled into one .,


Twas Then I saw a stone which had stood before man could even count ,
and so I began to wunder,
what it was all about ?
no clue to where  it came from ,
but burrowed in its heart ,
a name ...
A name from before even time began ,
before the earth could speak

A timeless treasure that always stood before the world began .

So then I returned to my body as my spirit had not yet given up my
Fight  to live ,
to ponder on what I had seen ,
a darkness far greater yet ,
more darker than  my eyes had ever met .

But darkness in all its brooding forms. Could  never cast its spell ,
and that which stood before me was on its way to hell .


And so I found the four compasses of the earth ,
and anchored them in  seas unchartered depths
so I tried to navigate before the sun the moon and the stars .

But God who’s good shepherd would never lead me astray ,
In open seas he brought me back from where I lay .

with thirty pieces of silver ,
and a cross of Roman wood ,
‘‘twas before a brightest light ,
that shone without darkness ,
a name which is Christ the Lord ,
is so often misunderstood.
In stone it now stands before me ,
where beneath no grave can lay ,
a corner stone of heaven that won’t ever see decay .

— The End —