Tasting
unwalled humanity.
People understanding
how it was meant to be.
A world coexisting.
Handshakes,
respect, and a hello.
Kindness is all it takes
to turn things to mellow.
Vile hostility breaks.
Melted
mistakes blur into peace
as the stars’ sparkles spread.
Explosive flames will cease
transforming the bloodshed.
Brand-new
brings about the return
to a tranquil virtue.
Calm continues to burn
that certain shade of blue.
Polarity showed up tonight in the small white pill resting in my palm—assurance and biological impedance within the same small shape. My endocrinologist believes taking it will rebuild my bone's density, coaxing my body to better use protein, collagen, and various minerals in places where time and age have thinned my bone's structure. But the pill brings its own polarity: it promises stronger bones even as a wave of morning-sickness nausea steals my comfort. Still, I take it, gratitude and resentment settling side by side in my heart. I’ve come to realize that sometimes polarity isn’t abstract. It’s real as real can be with me coping with two opposing truths coexisting.
white stone of healing~
a tide pulls both ways inside,
moor and undertow
LITERARY INTERPRETATIONS-:-
coexisting
detailed
depictioned
staged
contrasts
with NO DEPTH
particular
unsmoothed
graceful
plausible
aesthetics
in FIGURES DEVISED
complex
enigmatic
fairy-tale
idealised
inventions
Arise oh compatriot
The call for change never change
In our era here in Africa
Same voice same particular people
The chants for better days never stop
Same community same poor people’s
The protest for better wages never ends
Same labourers same youths same people
The failed system bad effects never stop coexisting among the common man’s daily life
Same men same issues same people
This kinds of situations attracts uprising
Among same places same countries same people
No wonder the youths no longer obey the old men no more this era
Everyone struggling by disobedience
Regardless the precaution
I wonder what kind of time we are moving towards
With same situations same pains same problems
Honestly tomorrow looks red instead of blue for the future of
Same youths same citizens same people
Hopefully with all the failed era the time is getting sooner for a take over
Who knows cos it is what is always is
The handwriting is not written only on the walls alone this era
It is written more on the faces of the hungry youths so
arise oh compatriot
Pink arrives
like the first warmth of breath
on cold glass—
soft, sudden,
unapologetically alive.
It is the color of almost,
of not-yet-bloomed,
of fingers brushing
but not holding.
It lives
in the hush between laughter,
in the curl of a lip
before it becomes a smile,
in the sky’s quiet confessions
just before dusk gives in.
Pink remembers
how to be tender
without being fragile.
It is the flush of defiance
and the sigh of surrender,
coexisting
like petals and thorns.
There’s a wildness to it—
sugar with sharp teeth,
the kind of softness
you could bleed for
and still ask for again.
It dances
in sidewalk chalk dreams,
lipstick smudges on coffee cups,
and the echo of secrets
shared under low light.
Pink isn’t loud—
but it doesn’t ask to be small.
It glows,
even when the world
demands dimness.
It is the echo of joy
that lingers
long after the hands have let go.
I am in a cold and empty house.
It is an English summer, not too warm.
From a window I can see the garden,
it is a cottage garden,
vegetables and flowers
coexisting in a colorful niche of heaven.
The house seems to lean toward the sun,
yet no rays penetrate its gloom.
From room to room
there are nothing but sleeping ghosts.
The wraiths do not walk or talk,
but recline and loiter,
as if death took them
as they meditated on life.
The garden flourishes,
only the onions dream,
musing upon their circular and layered
existence
as bugs nibble their roots.
Just as the sun surrenders to the horizon
after shimmering out the boldness,
let alone darkness to triumph over;
Likewise, even the sunflower concedes to the sun's movement
radiating euphoria around,
symbolizing admiration and loyalty;
As such the waves converge on the shore
embodying might,
conquering yet coexisting with tranquility;
Thenceforth, let's allow agony to renounce upon us;
for happiness can be consumed,
but pain can create.
Peace is a stress-free state of security and calmness that comes when there's no fighting or war, everything coexisting in perfect harmony and freedom.
In other words, while war destroys and disrupts, peace builds and strengthens as well as restores. Moreover, peace is personal which helps us achieve security and tranquillity and avoid anxiety and chaos to make our lives better.
https://youtu.be/rF2N4Zf8mqs
competing without terror or war - no therapy needed
NOTE: I was thinking marine life, even extreme environments: animals don't need therapists. Why?
They are coexisting
like the earth and the far sky,
split by horizon.
VIDEO/AUDIO on YouTube above. NOTE: On the video; double-click to enlarge, and/or, right-click for the drop-down menu and click on 'Loop' for auto-repeat, click settings and pick the highest level for quality viewing.
The Hub Of The Earth, I
Some vehicle screeches toward soundless nights,
a wheel cover errant for intimacy,
as it settles midst different roadside slights.
The decreasing engine roars criminally,
pruned for a snapshot temporal existence,
the bright hub unpolishes pitilessly.
The earth's orphans coexisting subsistence,
under new suns and periodical moons,
melts in a blink of an eon insistence.
Meddling miners carved canyons, felled forest looms,
a blue world shadows as a universe watch,
sculpt mountains, charcoal skies, oily oceans, dooms.
A womb will reinvent the species that botch,
our metamorphosis cast a new sasquatch.
2021 March 13
*1st Place*
ALL YOURS (Mar 20)
~~Brian Strand
No, my friend,
we are neither pure good nor pure evil
but
we are both good and evil!
Look
at all these pairs of opposite forces bellow:
hope and fear
courage and cowardice
success and failure
pleasure and suffering
happiness and unhappiness
knowledge and ignorance
virtue and vice
love and hate
They
are all coexisting in one's soul in perfect harmony
till
the moment we are called upon a decision to take
then
a vicious war of domination begins between the opponents
that
usually, lasts a lifetime
and
pending who the winner of this conflict is,
we, my beloved friend, become one or
the other! *
© Demetrios Trifiatis
09 June 2020
* This poem was chosen as POTD. Thank you all good friends who have contributed to this honor by their continuous support! God bless you!
I also thank the site for the bestowed honor!
She Follows me now, everywhere I go.
Just one step to the side, and behind.
Her presence permeates my every thought.
Her wide-mouthed scream,
sounds in every word I speak.
Her bound hands in prayer are lodged within my heart.
We are forming a disquieting companionship.
Are we leaving, or just arriving?
Her unquiet calmness
gives life and death to each moment,
a mad mixture of erotic harmony and discord.
Coexisting, where all things are possible,
yet nothing guaranteed.
A hole has opened between our worlds,
and within the chaos and confusion that pours into my existence,
lies a promise, a hope, a chance.
Faith is tethered to love;
together, they connect your heart to your soul.
Faith is a bridge, spanning the chasm
between mortality and spirituality.
And though faith is blind,
it guides your soul towards eternity.
Hope carves pathways to love,
without which life has no footing.
Trust supports love, and faith fuels trust;
their relationship is symbiotic and coexisting.
Empathy forms the foundation for faith, hope,
and love; the three pillars,
upon which humanity stands;
fortifying faith, harboring hope, and nurturing love.
Truth is often obscured, hidden behind
a fog of despair drained of light.
Yet, hope, trust, and love
fuel faith's flame,
enlightening our souls and revealing truth.
A car rolls into a soundless night,
Its light sends a bursting view of overhanging growth,
In a microcosm succession of descending seconds,
Pruned for a snapshot temporal existence,
Till all is rendered back to the void of night.
Sounds of rolling wake the void,
'Tis but a wheel cover errant for intimacy,
The road approves its adoption,
As it settles amongst other roadside neglects,
Earth's orphans coexisting under new sun's and periodical moon's.
Dull chrome insulted by grey matter and passing ignorance,
Melts in a blink of an eon as inherent elements being nursed,
A rebirth phenomenon after being ripped from its womb,
As meddling minds, carve out canyons and canvases felled trees,
Sculpture mountains, etch on charcoal skies, paint from oiled oceans,
All from a dark planet behind a concealed metal mask and chromed artificial air tanks,
That all were at one time...
...an errant orphaned wheel cover.
2019 September 19
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