Unbounded
A boggling thought
Which may toggle
Not-knowing
In the character
Bound in a story
Like this one..
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(PoetrySoup Format)
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in the pause
— beauty is still,
and as moments gently move
embracing the rush . . .
the air holds a soft h u s h.
in gentle breaths
words wait to whisper—
a timeless melody we know . . .
the closeness of
forever love.
lingering in the calm
creates a longing for
a tender touch,
and— a delicate
echo
____________________________
~ safe in the space and feeling you close ~
movements in space marked by time
is the stage where’s birthed a rhyme
and wherein dream forms shape shift
which heart tends to sieve and sift
desire mirrors aversion
becoming our perversion
but turning inward our glance
makes erect our soul’s stooped stance
when light chose to crystallise
it began to weigh and size
yet cessation holds the key
to be in this instant free
when there be no ownership
no doer then does worship
whence consciousness as pure light
is awash in bliss delight
we’re the light we sought to seek
so plugging energy leak
ego dies and we reclaim
flame of bliss that has no name
It seems
At least to me
That…..they
Are always there
Hidden in those instants
Wherein I lose my focus
Drift into “un-thinking”
Move without my own consent
Call ‘em what you will
Imps, trolls, the Billy goats Gruff
A synaptic surfer
Washed ashore
Popcorn scattered on the beach
Pursued by satiations seagulls
An off-key note
Sabotaging a symphony
A keyboard cannibal
Consuming all thought
Hunting in the alphabetic jungle
Of scrambled words
I have cursed them and cajoled them
All to no avail
An effort less successful
Than a dog chasing its tail
You might show your brawn,
Flex your fists,
But my words are stronger.
You might sharpen your knives,
Slash at my throat,
But my words are sharper.
You might yell and scream,
But my words are louder.
You might push and shove,
Beat me down,
But my words can be brutal.
You might lie and manipulate,
Twist what happened,
But my words carry the truth.
You might try to make sure others don’t hear,
Damper my screams,
But my words won’t be silenced.
Words have power that might can’t conquer.
depress any key
deplete white expanse
letter-litter
Thoughts and feelings written in words….how powerful you are
I vent, you listen, you stay silent….without opinion
No expectations, no judgement, no disappointment
Readily available….you are one in a million!
trees tall,
leaves fall
wood thick,
dry stick
old bark,
now dark
deep root,
brown boot
ants crawl,
quite small
owl cry,
moon high
a stream,
bright gleam
sun glade,
dense shade
green leaf,
zilch grief
wild moss,
soft floss
Those first words
spoken truly
— the most sacred in your heart
(Dreamsleep: September, 2026)
I find myself with just myself
reflecting on undelivered letters
of winter past--
the most bitter front
glazing evenings where a fireplace
becomes a chilled shelter
of sharp, dazed musings :
I travel within time's slow compass
when a season ago...
you left unnoticed , without closure
And my soul burned in the
ragged kiln of night chapters...
not a lint of words crawled
between us,
leaving me searching for
blank pages of despicaple darkness.
If
No word works
Any word will do..
Well..no
A story is told best
With better words..
Seems we have
Two stories here
Which are not two...
I hate good-byes.
There is nothing good
in them.
They are too permanent.
Ominous par excellence.
I said good-bye
to a friend once,
never saw him twice.
No, there is nothing good
in a good-bye.
I favour
farewell.
A quiet enchantment needs
no stage to captivate.
A sudden, incandescent grace
illuminates the crowded room,
Disarming every hardened heart
with effortless benevolence,
An unpretentious, magnetic
warmth that softly draw us
near.
It leaves a lingering,
unforgettable impression in its
wake,
Enthralling spirits without a
single ostentatious word,
A fleeting, beautiful magic
woven into the quietest breath.
Hymns we hum are our own version.
We cast aside the ancient,
dogmatic liturgy,
For the hymns we hum are our
own version,
Symphonies forged in the
crucible of autonomy.
No longer chanting the
antodisestablishmentarian
strains,
We orchestrate an unyielding,
revolutionary resonance.
Every breath breathes a
nonconformist hallelujah,
An uncompromised,
multidimensional manifestation
of faith,
Dismantling the
institutionalized, authoritarian
altars.
We sanctity the beautifully
unconventional spirit,
Our voices rising in glorious,
independent ascension.
A pocket full of smooth, round
stones,
A beetle crawling in the grass,
The tallest tree that I can climb,
And watching fluffy clouds
pass.
A secret kept by my best friend,
The perfect song to clear my
head,
A locked diary beneath the
floor,
And all the words left unsaid.
A quiet house before the dawn,
The monthly rent paid right on
time,
A steady hand to hold my own,
And mountains I still hope to
climb.
The health of those I love the
most,
A peaceful night of restful
sleep,
The quiet joy of letting go,
And memories I get to keep.
The warmth of sun upon my
face,
A rocking chair, a cup of tea,
A long and winding story told,
And knowing they'll remember
me.
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