I try to write of tulip skies,
but my pen finds the shadows first.
I want to speak of beauty,
but my tongue can’t carry the weight… -dishonest-
I try to sing of lilac air,
but every note becomes a bruise,
a wound that pretty things can’t use.
The air becomes… -suffocating-
The easy things…
finding laughter in wind chimes,
they won’t stay still for me.
They slip through the ink,
as it’s written upon the lines.
The page rejects the grace,
of summer’s touch on a freckled face.
It calls instead for broken hearts and scars,
For bruised-up dreams behind prison bars.
I leave the pretty things
to someone else—
and write what stays
when pretty things fade away.
I feel a slight touch on my arm and look down
and………….it’s a spider
Despite the heavy circumstances in my life and a
migraine weighing me down
I fly to my feet and spin around trying to dislodge
the creature that is much more nimble than I am
I try leaping as each joint in my body complains,
I try flicking it off, but as we are both moving,
it evades me and continues to run down my bare arm
I rush to the door and fling it open and continue
my graceless dance on the porch as the neighborhood
begins to wake up for the day, I am pretty sure I am
yelling at this point and I feel sweet relief as the
eight legged arachnid jumps from me to the porch railing
as I sigh and begin to realize where I am and who else
is present. I wave to my neighbor and say a chipper
“good morning” as my face floods with color and I realize
I am acting very odd, but to be honest, who cares?
The spider and I are both safe it’s not crawling on me
anymore. I sigh and begin my day, hopefully without
encountering any more of God’s eight legged creatures.
water
his undertow
where seagulls still cry for
his touch on the stiffening mast
sails gone
sea swept —
his shipwreck
staging her oars
whispers in the water
she screams
This is to be,
a seed yet sown,
a deed yet done
a whisper on tongue
a kiss becoming
an echo sent
a gift bought
a line cast
a promise made
a wink of eye
a smile on lips
a touch on skin
fingers meet
a glint, a glimmer
a ripple, a quaver
orange glow at dawn
a breath of wind
a whiff of scent
footsteps
creak of gate
knock on door
hum of tune
distant bells
chimes of time
ticks, tocks of clocks
bird calls, howls
the smell of food
This is what can,
and is To Be.
My garden…..spring vibes! - Dr. Gopakumar air
Where another misty morning soaked in the soft sun rays,
Adding a mystic beauty to the surroundings.
Where the plants are showing their full presence
With the newborn buds, leaves and flowers.
Where the air is filled with fragrance of fresh blooms.
Where the birds chirp non stop,
Butterflies play hide and seek,
Happy Bees whisper a secret song of mysteries.
A gentle breeze plays a new rhythm-
A soothing touch on the soul.
That leads to mindfulness,
Here the past, present and future merged into thin air.
Evoking a sense of timeless beauty of nature.
Copyright @GKN 2025
Darkened my world,
Turned it upside down.
A cloud of grief follows me around.
The sun shines, but my eyes see darkness.
A mother’s worst nightmare
Became my reality.
Torn from this earthly world—
My brown-eyed baby girl.
Grown up, but always my baby,
Leaving me in a whirlwind of misery.
Always trying to honour her,
Keep speaking her name.
Cling to her memory like a lifeline,
Whispering, Please come back to me.
The wind echoing, I’m still here beside you, my Mommy.
Feeling a gentle touch on my cheek
Where my tears are falling silently.
The pain so immense,
The grieving so quiet.
The passage of time has not lessened the pain—
I’ve just learned to carry it differently.
I understand:
We breathe, not forever.
We walk in body, not forever.
We live, and we die.
But one thing that does not change
Is the love I have for you—
In life, in death, and evermore.
In the afterglow of your beautiful loving heart
lives a flower that blooms each and every day
Planted deep within, you are the great thou art
of my living soul's reveal, you are the way !
Dazzling me with brightness and effulgence
you are a glowing candle in the thick of night
With luminosity you touch on my resurgence
helping me revive, a long lost dormant light;
You are a gleam, a glint, a polished diamond stud
an opalescent being who grants prismatic hues
Seeded in your garden I know that I am loved
above all else, ... and it is I that you did choose
You are the afterglow of love's most precious gift,
the bridge across forever, that never goes adrift.
A touch on her feet
Bending onto her level
Carrying the fondness
Deep In your eyes is feel
Eyes are having a battle
Filled with confusion
Gathering courage to decide
Hacking for her soul
Illusions filling the system
Jail for her admiration
Kindness shown by her
Love you express
On your knees
Playing with tension
Queen in your heart
Resting her palm on your chest
Sacrifices she made
The time for happiness
Unique gift she is
Vocals are not enough
Worshiping is your only thought.
I Thought I Learned All I Could About Love
I thought I learned all I could about love—
how it bends like willow branches
and breaks like brittle glass,
how it hums in the quiet of a held breath
and vanishes in the space of a sigh.
I knew its patterns, its rising and falling,
the way it lingers in the scent of a shirt,
the ghost of a touch on the skin,
the echo of a name in an empty room.
But then you—
a story unwritten, a storm unnamed,
a language I never spoke, yet somehow understood.
Love was not a lesson learned,
but a lesson unlearned,
rewritten in the shape of your hands.
Now I know love is not a road walked once,
not a book with a final page,
but a horizon that stretches further,
always further,
each time I think I have arrived.
By
King Willie
Have you ever
had that feeling
you are not alone
a good feeling
a feeling of warmth
you sense something
a light touch on your arm
you have become lost
here comes a choice
you are not sure
which direction
there is a flash of light
you glance around
a penny is found
picking it up
you feel tingling
sensations
you make the choice
follow that direction
the direction where
a penny was found
it turns out to be
the right choice
an angel
can always find you
no matter
how lost you are
if you are lost
pray to the Father
in the name of
Jesus Christ
and have faith
perhaps you will
hear the whisper
of an angel
Edward J Ebbs - 03/11/2025
Her eyes are shining spheres, sculpted from the marrow of forgotten stars,
Each gaze a window into a universe that pulses in silence,
Charged with the intensity of solar flares dancing on the edge of the horizon,
Yet their warmth is a well-kept mystery, a burn that leaves no trace on the sky of the world,
But just a delicate touch on my soul, an unspoken secret of a silent love.
In the depths of those eyes, untold stories from extinguished times hide,
They flutter like an inner fire that warms my dreams on cold nights,
A secret call that whispers desires that cannot be spoken in words,
And yet, in that silence, I find the echo of an understanding that transcends the light,
A profound connection, like an unseen thread binding two souls beyond time.
On the dark sky of my heart, her eyes shine like beacons of hope,
They guide my steps through the dense fog of doubt, revealing a luminous path,
And in that light, I lose myself and find myself, a traveler of an eternal dream,
For in her eyes, the universe finds its form, and I find my peace,
A dance of lights and shadows, of desires and fulfillments, in a never-ending story.
At dawn, the world began to wake,
Rushed below as the bustle breaks,
A body smiled, drained of its breath,
Hm, It was me - free but dead!
Shocked in silence, they stood in blame—
"How dare she die? What a big shame!"
"So Gross, she died yet wears a smile!"
Hm, It was me - free but dead!
Through heaven's lens - my soul does ache,
Will they now love and feel my pain?
Will they regret, or still neglect?
Hm, It was me - free but dead!
Cursed, they scream - "What price we paid?"
I craved their touch on flesh that stayed,
To hear them weep for sins instead.
Hm, It was me - free but dead!
I dwell - Why didn't they chose care?
No worries—virgin soul 'declared'.
Will they now let it play and sway?
Hm, It was me - free but dead!
Inscrutable
Not knowing
An impossibility of
Words which try to
Touch on the
Immediacy
Of thoughts and
Emotions arising
From viewing
A single face..
An appearance of
Everyone...
When you need to yell?
Nothing else will really calm you.
Your flash flood can’t be held.
Those words that are tar on your throat
linger on a self inflicted ball gag;
You just won’t walk out of silence;
Man, I absolutely love an uncivilized
scream in my car;
Wandering through the house with keys
you’ve become frozen in place;
Tearing up a piece of paper everyday
you take out rage on something tangible;
It helps but only just to the side of relief.
Really what you want is to punch a wall
or shatter a vase all over the floor;
Still all you need is a full tank of gas;
Man, I absolutely love an uncivilized
scream in my car;
With just one touch on the accelerator
everything is finally able to be freed;
The death grip on that steering wheel
is all you need to finally set yourself free;
Don’t ever ignore your anger,
just go explore a brand new back road.
Man, I absolutely love an uncivilized
scream in my car.
My eyeballs move as though witnessing scenes within eyelids.
Face, just like obeying commands of some far-off spirits, skids
Heaven, with the triune god and the angels illumine
I cross the boundaries and reach all realms beyond human
Truth and untruth are tenderly mixed like milk and water.
Where's my skill gone that culls out shapes from mud as a potter?
There's a sensation. It's like the touch on a touch-me-not.
Between what's seen and unseen, known and unknown, there's a knot.
As a small drama that is enacted within a long play
Does the unsaid truth sparkle, piercing the veils of each ray?
Do the deeds of good overpower the deeds of evil?
Between brain, bones, blood, nerves, and muscles, there's an upheaval.
Sitting aside my flowing stream of thoughts and thoughtlessness
Do I, the dreamer, discover my own dream's plotlessness?
Cuffed with cautions, causations, cognitions, and cogitations
Aren’t each dream and the dreamer bound by vague limitations?
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