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David Smith Jan 2021
A quite audience, easily forgotten
The passing of winter rain

Stretch and strain, back to my game
Oblivious once again

Yet your pall remains,
A kiss of mist upon the soul
A sentinel
Of chestnut, oak and magpie’s lair

The cross you bare, a gentle snag
From times when you were elsewhere

A golden wave crashes down
Heavens glory reflected, here

The soft rustle of recent gift
A reminder that we care
Arcassin B Mar 2020
By Arcassin B


I could see my dreams and anguishes,
seeing them as I go further,
your world is ****** in so many languages,
that you might be okay with ******,
I could see that music is failing to secure you from
all the bad,
famous people die so much , but just think how did
they get like that?
Big whoop right ?
do you even care?
is this fueling you?
take out your phone and record someone dying here,
do you know the stupid **** that you do?
Big whoop right ?
do you even care?
is this fueling you?
take out your phone and record someone dying here,
do you know the stupid **** that you do?

I manifest and push back,
the negative **** that lingers,
illuminate and attack,
my mind will shine like veneers,
take allegiance to myself , you should hear the words
I'm saying , is this thing on?
I should have guessed it , they rigged it,
As long as my mind knows,
then my imagination shows,
wondering off to the plane,
flying off into the sky, I'm too cold like an eskimo,
will the evergreen forever grow, i guess nobody knows,
My love will show though so
Big whoop right ?
do you even care?
is this fueling you?
take out your phone and record someone dying here,
do you know the stupid **** that you do?
Big whoop right ?
do you even care?
is this fueling you?
take out your phone and record someone dying here,
do you know the stupid **** that you do?

©abpoetry2020
https://arcassin.blogspot.com/2020/03/big-whoop-featured-on-upcoming-lp.html
Marta Aug 2018
Stillness and immobility
They look just the same
But one can be bliss the other is pain

The stillness arises when the tension is gone
When the tension grows immobility is born

The blessing of stillness it flies high and wide
The curse of tension pulls the mind closely tied

Stillness and immobility
They look just the same
But one can be bliss the other is pain

In the eye of a storm mighty worrier she waits
Her opponent exhausted from the forces he breaks

From the centre she moves in any direction
Her hands tied only by one thing - affection

Stillness and immobility
They look just the same
But one can be bliss the other is pain
Sally A Bayan Feb 2017
....to the solemnity of that place
felt just right...
a noise-prone, peopled space,
.....a corner i, we...go back to,
in the cold, or hot of
every morning

like every meeting,
we look above,
pay our respect,
warm up,
then, a time of peace, flows in, when
a calming moment starts...
breathe... like a baby,
inhale, at the start,
exhale, when finishing,
let go of the rush
let go~~~through movements~~~
in waves so slow~~~~~relax~~~
set free your worries, even for a while
think of peaceful~~~green mountains~~~
look through a nearby stream~~~soothing~~~
with tiny ripples whirling~~~
clear, like a mirror,
showing true reflections~~~while
a gentle breeze passes~~~and touches~~~
to unchain~~~to refresh~~~to dry
...to revive....

all purposes...will have been achieved
...........................before the hour ends...

then...comes the time to leave,
a time, for each one,
.......to face another day,
............another sunrise
             ........another sunset...


Sally

Copyright February 6, 2017
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

___________
...really feels good to be in sync with the group once again...
a refreshing respite... from fast paced activities...
good ole friends...relaxed conversations over coffee, slowing down, letting go, and all...
evildum Apr 2015
Sinewed by the the ancient art
of tai chi, he forged the forces of  the universe
to lure a dreamer  into his lair. He stayed
silent as a spider; and with seamless
gliding of  limbs and fingers,
he entrapped  his prey like a moth
entangled in a cobweb. The sky
was bleeding then when she asked:  “How
can I walk  through the dusk?” “Just
follow me, I’m a pathfinder,” said
he. He whispered to her ear:  “Close
your eyes my child and trust your heart.”  
And to the tremor of  his voice he danced
her, deeper and deeper  into the night. Soon  
his lips dripped with her muffled sobs, the stench
of  his slobber drifted  into her pristine dream;
and he confessed:  “She came to me;
I’m innocent.”

— The End —