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Over the snowy mountain peaks
A star is gliding through space
As I’m strolling, embracing the breeze
On Saint Anne’s frozen lake.

Icicles have crept up on the trees
All the living have run away
Sorrow lingers in the silent eve’
Dimming prayers at Winter’s gate.

The cold flurry of air penetrates the bone
Reeds wince with the chill.
A flock of birds pass by like ghosts,
their shapes trembling in fear.

Oscillating wings carve the way
as they fade away in the sky,
a new thought is born I can’t shake:
This is my home. I’ve arrived.
'Erdélyi pillanatkép' translation
June, 2024
summer? i love summer.

summer for me, is not the scorching heat,
it's the light that makes things shine.

it's the time when my inner gloominess is overshadowed by summer's joy,

and the time when the stoic leaves start to giggle because of summer's charm.

not even the dark nights of summer will leave you feeling lonely,

because its loo envelops you in its warmth.

but writing this when just yesterday I was about to faint from the heat of summer, feels symbolic.

like the light of summer hypnotizes you into believing everything's going to be alright,

but hold that thought too long, and you risk losing sight.

and maybe that's why summer ends, to make way for winter.

which leads me to the conclusion that I love summer, because winter exists.

that is nature's way, it's beauty is in its harmony.

and that is why I love winters, as much as I love summers.
this was messy; a journal entry turned poem. people looking for structure might not like it, but these are my thoughts, and I feel people's simple thoughts in itself are poetry.
Maria Jun 7
Will you remember her?
She was so fun after all!
She laughed by eyes, laughed softly.
She was so light and airly at all.
Will you remember her?

Will you remember her?
She so loved all sunsets,
Loved stars and caught their light!
She ran away in her sleeps some place.
Will you remember her?

Will you remember her?
She so adored winter laugh,
Snowdrifts to be higher, the snow to be white
And bitterlly cold and not in half.
Will you remember her?

You will remember her!
She so loved to love!
She gave of herself wholeheartedly!
She couldn’t live without love!
You will remember her!
Love is often so simple, so light, so airy, so pure, so real. But we just don't see it. But then, when we remember, it all comes back in our memory...
Thank you very much for reading this poem! 💖
Ebbing and flowing in
winter months,
buried soft in
snow and cold.
Painted skin and eyes
so they
pulse in
deep red.
Painted hair and nails,
green.
Glowing.
Sharpen the
edge of arms and
fingers to
points and prickles of
festive delight,
mix with crowds alike,
Make whole
and make useless
and make
holly.
Zywa May 31
A cold winter moon

high above the rolling snow --


My heart starts pounding.
Composition "Moon Viewing Music" (2018, Peter Garland), for three gongs, part 1 "Living alone in the woods / few visitors cast shadows / How clean the moon / gleaming in the sky" (haiku by Ryokan Taigu, 1758-1831), performed in the Organpark on four gongs by Pepe Garcia on February 8th, 2025

Collection "org anp ARK" #85
neth jones May 28
this frozen shore     calls me tourist               
followed by money grubber and whoremonger
  then reckless looter and polluter
names me hazard   and spits on me
it squeaks and whines                                                    
pops bubblewrap   and grinds polystyrene
jarring and wincing my ears
nature has called me out                                                
it fires at me                                  
                      with a list of my species crimes
the pudding's in the proof
and i'm left simply unable to be a recluse
in the company of
                              this frozen winter shore
[original
this frozen shore calls me a ***** / names me and spits on me / nature calls me and fires at me / with the list of my species crimes / i'm left simply unable to enjoy  / this frozen winter shore
18/05/25]
Zeno May 23
I could've just laid down if
I wanted to

ignoring the bells that echoes
inside my head

Let the earth swallow me
among withered leaves that decay
beside me

Let the world dry out
as if all lamented things
belong to me

I could act as if
my heart is an icy winter water,
never to beat, never to warm at all

Granite skies would drift above me,
haunting me in my night and
summer days

But in the thunder that frightens me
A swift lightning would pass me by,
a crack of gold in my darkest night

The flood crashing through doors,
through all the breathe that I've lost
I would learn to hold every air that I touch

All the celestial mass throbbing in my chest
The distant rumble of supernovas
that tears me apart,
and black sunshine that shines on my face

Even if midnight splatters beneath my eyes,
with all the stars that glimmer
that badly wants to fall

Even if half of my shadow is blown to nether
I would suffer everyday, and in my pain
I knew I could feel

I would die everyday, with all lamented things
and in all my deaths

I have learned to live
neth jones May 19
dismember
us meeting in the long dark bar
made of old wooden doors ******* closed
we nerved about conversation and drank
the gruff dense social den drew in
                grew around us                                      
pushing our minds about like
     the ember remains
                                  of a sotted campfire
ploying mother lens
we shuffled into the other
                      cleaved a little and uncleaved
then  tuning out the winters night
we did together leave
neth jones May 19
dismember                        
the jerking flesh of my heart
nervous excrement
the manner your head rattles
when i lunge at you
this room stiffens with ****
                    running our corpses thru the flame
the gummy dark muffle day-to-night            
       pinball wisdom of creatures                    
                                   ­   below the floor
cactus salad
        me you and our malady
[notes : inspired by Remember  by Joyce Mansour]
minisha May 18
The embrace of spring kisses good bye to the crystals of winters,
and flowers bloom among mosses within crumbling walls,
yet rather that dancing among the roses,
I press myself against the thorns,
since the crimson string ties the last knot
with the bullets cherished by the winters.
based on a personal experience, haha
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