The borders fell like fever from a long-tormented frame,
No steel was turned, no legions marched, no decree spoke their name.
For when the node of silver wood began its quiet rise,
The phantom lines of sovereign pride dissolved before their eyes.
The ancient ghosts of territory, of fortress, and of crest,
Like winter frost before the sun, sank deep into the breast.
The pain that once had armed the hand and built the concrete wall
Was opened to the anchor node, unmetered, shared by all.
A mother’s cry in Sector One, the drought of Sector Four,
No longer stopped at checkpoints or the barricaded door.
The collective mind, in empathy, received the bitter sting,
And wove the ache of centuries into a single string.
Where once the barbed dividers stood to guard the hollow grain,
Now surged a tide of healing hands to wash away the stain.
The map of old Vaeloria, where blood-bought nations bled,
Became a tapestry of care, by quiet mercy fed.
No citizen was left an island, stranded in their grief;
The shared scar of the species brought its ultimate relief.
All the dishes fell down broken
Favorite cups, you won’t believe
Smashed to bits, but it’s unspoken
Myths don’t mention human grief
They don’t want us to come close
Private troubles doesn’t count
If you ask, nobody knows
What was their crime about
The collective guilt is fake
There is no such thing on earth
Otherwise we’re God’s mistake
From the accident of birth
Trevelyan, a sole survivor
Is the one we should remember
See the picture of white rider
On eleventh of November
Of one thousand ninety nine
He escaped the great excess
Of the punishment, confined
To the Land of Lyonesse
Then the plot disintergrates
To the pieces that don’t fit
Well together, so it fades
To the dishes crashed in bits..
unperceiving
as
improving patriotically
again
through
their hieratical
intramural
supervision
(Weekly Magnetic Poetry Challenge • July 6–12, 2026)
Hold back with knowledge, life plays rough
So your incentive attitude
Won’t stand a chance against the stuff
That means to sound crude
Stay calm, benevolent and easy
As humble as you can
And soon you notice no one sees you
Cause you are one of them
How does it feel, to be well stored
In some collective fate?
Are you quite sure in support
Or do you hesitate ?
Are you surprised to fathom that
Nobody gives a damn
About you, what you intend
To be, apart of lamb,
The little lamb, who lost his mom
And cannot see his dad
In restless search he cries for them
The truth he wouldn’t stand.
A drop of water has no direction,
Until its introduction to a stream.
A streams movement will bend and change through its self infliction.
While,
A stream is unable to conform stray water:
It is shaped by such.
A car may control its own movement,
However, is constrained to the roads of its creation.
Stepping out into the collective,
My soul choosing the directive,
I selectively choose my way.
Letting my imagination play,
Straying thoughts catch my attention,
As more enter my dimension.
I see a reflection of ascension,
My body is feeling the tension,
Your intention my only impression.
As I dive into another lesson,
An energy expression session,
Consciousness intersections,
Set up for interventions.
As we venture into the unknown,
Growing together in time,
Our interaction climbs,
Intertwines,
A new twist to the vine.
Exchanging with the Divine,
Your energy is mixing with mine,
As I begin to find new emotions,
Different thoughts within my mind.
Standing behind my truth,
I let them all through,
Transmuting them too.
Giving you a better view,
Something you can hold on too,
To direct the stew of emotions,
Pouring from this ocean of energy,
The collective gets from me.
This reflection,
Is my projection,
Playing a section of my mind,
My eyes find the design,
As atoms create every line,
Casting shadows from the divine,
Because it's light you shine,
A sign of your connection,
The reflection that your seeing,
Showing the meaning behind being,
Your agreeing with the soul,
While you roll with the punches,
A bunch of challenges and blessings,
Always guessing if life is just testing us,
Arresting our attention,
So we create a dimension,
Just to experience ascension,
Evolving through the lesson,
A projection coming from you,
The reflection coming through,
An expression of what's true,
Teaching what we need to do,
Even in ways you don't want it too,
The view is your vision,
This creation your decision,
In constant revision,
Your own television,
Playing one show,
And once you know,
You really start to grow.
No time to be on the fence,
our stressed Earth wants more dedication
to her defense.
Weeping for her is not enough,
join the environmental cause, we
must be tough.
The world's children to elderly,
doing something about pollution,
climate change, it's a priority.
Save wildlife and humans for their rising,
from our collective humanity, our globe
needs reviving.
The youth of us should inherit,
an ecologically sound planet for
generations to benefit.
God's earthly angels are at work out there,
as I know so many of you care. ~
Forget the cautionary calls for restraint —
this world doesn’t need saviors.
It wants hands that claw at the roots,
Sick fangs that grind old ideas to dust.
Ideas aren’t soft; they’re detonators,
charged and ready to shatter the silence.
You don’t repair a broken machine
by merely shining its rust.
The absence of thinking is a pandemic—
eradicate it like a disease.
Smash apathy with a hammer.
What we create afterward
is in our hands.
November moon,
dangling pearl
trailing the face of dusk
like a brooding tear.
Morpheus leads our way
through luminous sleep,
through stained glass shards of
our multiverse.
November moon,
you languish unrealized,
in somber slumber fog.
Our mortal arousal,
our wounds are reopened.
Morpheus leads our way,
through lustrous ruminations,
through spiraling remnants of
our Megaverse.
November moon
We hardly notice you
in our narcoleptic cloud,
our emergent consciousness,
our collective imagination.
Morpheus leads our way
through refulgent recall,
through steep sleep stages,
where we are unified
as one.
We struggle to find peace in the collective
because we're in pieces as a whole
This fragmentation is unnatural & we're
at war with the divisive
No matter how you slice it us coming together
should be the goal
The pie in the sky is a sweet dream & those
that eat are decisive
Look to your mind for the answers for in its
eye are the solutions
The confusion is by design for in disarray
we are conquered
Know that ideas design things & are the
beginning of conclusions
Nothing exists without them for they're seeds
of all that is fathered
Don't be bothered by appearances as many
of those are illusions
I allude to this for a reason because many are
easy to deceive
Every piece is important to the pattern in a
world that was built on collusion
The puzzling truth is playing out but many
are reluctant to concede
.
whut's sangfroid
mean
* it means to "remain calm or cool under pressure,
especially, an excessive countenance".
Now, i am certain that my post "utopia sangfroid"
will sense...the calm is waking up to your lady
with bulging eyes look'n az ya done wrong;)
Remember that with a collective heart, you can connect to GOD
gather your quills, gather your words
ink deep inside the well of your hearts
choose phrases that resound with your soul
Be a billboard for the broken, lonely and lost
Advertise God's Kingdom
with the workings of your hands
Share your riches with those less fortunate
and always say, thankyou.
A melancholy of poets
A suffering of poets
A torment of poets
A provoking thought of poets
An expression of poets
An inspiration of poets
A rhyme of poets
A verse of poets
A stanza of poets
An anthology of poets
A poem of poets
We are all poets
however some of us
go to the trouble
of writing it down
parliament mischief
unkindness and murder
crow family
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