Poetic Masterpiece: A Childbirth Of Profundity.
Like delivery of Divine Revelations
which favours calmness of wilderness;
It's brought forth in Creative-Glory-Of-Solitude:
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Flourishing on
Natural contours of land,
Variegating with rainbows,
A continuous river
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I read her to see her
And see her to perceive her.
Perceive that her mind touch
I love more, she thinks of ‘much’.
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So it is the duty of the artist to discourage all traces of shame
To extend all boundaries
To fog them in right over the plate
To kill only what is ridiculous
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Poetry is something
that dances rhythm of your heart,
sings song of your soul,
dreams dream of your subconscious.
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At dawn, the rain falls down
while whispering about your oval silence,
that silence breaking my emerald dreams.
My dreams are like those
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It's midnight here in Utah
And the world outside is still
As I sit down at my keyboard to compose -
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Along this cosmic filament
Flows wisdom, subconscious awareness -
From one corner of the world to another,
Differences dissolve into realization
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Not so young and vibrant anymore
Wonder what the future holds in store
What contract did I sign on coming in?
When does the living end and death begin?
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Fear is a battalion of mercenary chemicals
Capable of incapacitating even the most hardened of individuals
In the absence of faith, hope, Love and sometimes courage
Fear is stealthily deployed to incinerate the mind, body and spirit
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Guilt is not to be doubted Franz Kafka wrote
The human has been tied to the guilt of not having done
What said the God or his prophets what the society ordained
What the preachers say the first man was killed
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I believe I realize you,
When every tangled emotion
Deprived of freedom
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My Beloved Brother
(A Dirge)
Years ago you realised the truth,
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Every so often ^ v ^ v ^
despite the disinclination \ \ \
to do so and the friction /\*/\
which it causes, but not everyday, , , , , ,
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In the rhyme of iambic rains
I'm wetting; sweet scent of
Cake in my writings nostrils
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Down down there
Deep deep in the hidden recesses
There lies a little space
Vacant and welcoming…
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EXILE IN MAJESTIC SILENCE
esspeecee
# Exile in silence,
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We are sleeping sometimes deeply,
At this deepness of the new night,
Sometimes we are waking up again,
Dreams or nightmares we see suddenly.
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What mysteries reside within the tangled net
Of electromagnetic impulses triggered by
The mechanism of thought and emotion?
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I was drunk with the sobriety of my love
Wandering with a passion of a possessed soul
Swimming in the azure waters of my wonderous cove
Thought that I had discovered love that was whole
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Half rotten, the other side of the mango
had the lust in subconscious mind
part eaten by insects and birds
soon the smell will spread
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A TRIBUTE TO HEALING POWER
OF POETRY
(BIBLIOTHERAPY)
The word poetry derives from the Greek word
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He opens his eyes,
Sleep disturbed,
Her compounding thoughts
Strike a painful chord,
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Dusk goes away, crows sleep,
And darkness comes within,
Stars twinkle and clap hands,
We sleep but we see dream.
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I had sex with a famous poet last night
and when I rolled over and found myself beside him I shuddered
because I was married to someone else,
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:)
What kids are watching on telly
are crimes and crimes in all variety!
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Because I said so, that's why
Reasons? Those I don't supply
I am your subconscious, what I say goes
And if I were to say stand on your nose
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Janice worked 9-5 as her boss's secretary.
At work she was sedate. But her evenings could be scary.
You see, Janice lived a bit on the ‘wild side',
something which, from her coworkers, she did hide.
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Only name the day, and we'll fly away
In the face of old traditions,
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In books written by scholars
With an element enforced on words
You read with your subconscious
And digest all you’ve heard
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A WORLD BEYOND!
Between the confines of life and death,
There lies innumerable cycles of life itself!
That extols life with its infinite evolving
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The beauty of subconscious
As if a fairy queen bathing undressed
In a solitary forest
The tunnel spreads its allurement
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i thought........about
all the answers, that i sought
and with a shout....
i scream, due to the misery
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Success
Thursday, January 13,2022
4: 45 PM
S...Simple
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this dream is beginning in the street when at night
carefully I am looking at the more and more dark sky
and suddenly I see creatures some strange are flying
degenerated though similar to reptile-birds
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Still in their dens
Living in the past
There were no divisions
In the subconscious
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Whence, whence this soundless roar doth come,
When drowseth matter's dreary drum?
On shores of bliss, Om, booming, breaks!
All earth, all heaven, all body shakes!
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Ghost Poem 1 (Where Ghosts Hide)
Under lock and key, in dark corners
They are the shadows of the past
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The story of Satyavan's descending down
Upon the World of mortal grips,
Soul, the pious, with Truth divine
Death and ignorance play the whips.
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অন্য অস্তিত্ব -
আমি বসে আছি উন্মাদের পথে একাকী
উল্লাসী চেতনার শব্দে কলমি অনুনাদে
...
I should have cried much before
There was high temptation to remain alive
Even in the big preparation for death.
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I have purchased a portrait
A beautiful woman‘s picture was there.
For once I thought I know her
But then felt otherwise
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When your conscious catches up with subconscious
More than small miracles begin to unfold
Your eyes see the golden sunrise
You discover treasures within
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The magic of my childhood days,
I see thru the filigree works
Of your green pointed leaves.
The mild-yellow light which you
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This midnight is in middle of time,
Dusk has slept and dawn has also,
Both will wake up in new turn,
Rising of sun will bring new day.
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What if a dream should actually come true?
Can you imagine how that really might feel?
One day you are laying down flat on your face,
The next day you are dancing a 'Scottish reel.'
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Once I was a poet
My mind embraced inspiration,
as she was fond of me
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I can smell the rains of poetry,
Coming my way
Magic is in the air
Ominous clouds tower to the heavens floor,
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there he lies in his room, so broken
lyk a piece of fray lies helpless to preserve its fading existence
I jus luk at the way his body trembles wid every breath inside
tired and exhausted by the recurring pain
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Enjoy a surge of energy
Embrace your feisty spirit
Throw yourself deeply into
Something vigorous, adventurous
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Pit Stop At The Subconscious Station
Our world’s a soft type perfume,
One worn close but gone by the falling of morning dew,
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Life Came Like a Storm
Life came like a Storm,
With unuttered silence,
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Psychedelic smoke
Rising in the backstreet of my shallow mind
Kiss my lips
With one more puff of your feverish wit
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Wait until the lights are out
Everything is silent.
Drift into the subconscious by the drum of the ticking clock.
Creep along into the darkness
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In that dreadful space on earth
There was no mirror to wash
Face from dust with palm of water
The fishes had drunk all before perishing
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Dawn I not in the robes of silk
For I know what I true deserve
I walk in the tight rope of life’s brink
Wishing it would less curve
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The level of my awareness drags open the subconscious out,
the sleepy dragon of instincts with fire and sharp claws,
I feel them foreign, an un intimate, unfriendly animated animal,
so I go surreal, the real is beyond the imagination, I see
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I thought it is perfect
to remain invisible
in silence like a pearl
in one sea shell and tie
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I think of you
And I want to liken your memory
To something beautiful.
It seems your almost ethereal beauty,
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What fears assails you of the finality
Doomsday is to befall we live in the last times
Judgment will be what we will see it happening
Ferocity of execution is what appeals to human minds
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Enough to be
Saturday,16th March 2019
Let the love flow
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AUM - The Awesome Sound Vibration!
Resonates with every pulse of this vast world,
Reverberating through every object of this universe,
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When someone criticizes you, listen,
It means your subconscious created a burden.
Can mean that you are wrong or it is just fear of success,
Anyhow, you must look into it, find the truth, be fearless.
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Defining A Dream
Fascinating is the world of dreams
Experienced by most of us.
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Bri's Intro Poem:
This showcase is meant to amuse, educate, &/or {at least} help you to pass your days.
PoemHunter, and my "friends" here, have done just that** for me for years in many ways.
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New conception of wonderful belief,
We have perceived during sleeping,
Dream after dream is coming in mind,
Stars are dazzling still in full moonlight.
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There is no denying fact
Good or bad is in our acts
What we do must be in fairness
To bring always cheers on face
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Are dreams reality, or is reality a dream
Asleep, does our subconscious travel
To worlds and lives as solid as this one
Or is our reality someone else's 27316dream
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Our world forever changes every second every day.
Nothing halts the pass of time; old age will have its way.
each mighty cliff or ancient tree will suffer the same fate
life seems just an experiment, a transitory state.
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The old woman waited,
standing on the sidwalk
watching the round-about
She seems frail,
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I do not know if I have words to describe
Where my dreams took me last night
Saw an stop over in a journey continuous
Some getting ready for a night's rest
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It's been two days since I had a dream
Still I can't shake it from memory's stream
It wasn't about any out of the world activity
Yet morning buzzed with its connectivity.
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Looking into the eyes of Medussa, the Greek mythology's evil one
Will turn anyone into stone, they will be done.
Earthly problems are similar, you dwell on them or let them go,
You eat up yourself or ignore their existence, just saying: 'so? ? ? '
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Yearning for eternal confluence
With the ultimate slumbering in subconscious
Returns with a longing, a force thunderous
In solitude, in the mind of a person pious.
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I’ve started a 'showcase' on my PoemHunter site,
which is NOT a contest; it’s no arena for a fight,
but instead a place where once a month I shall post..
a poem* from you, a PH member, which you’d like read most.
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Music's exciting
Classic or jazz
Or rock n roll
Ever a delightful stroll.
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after countless drinks that night
she fell asleep
into the calm darkness
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The Saint and the Beast are in our subconscious.
There in the subconscious
is the source of most of
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graveyard
the silent peaceful garden of corpses,
the last stoppage of the motionless physical bodies
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Mind is poised for embroilment
in the tireless journey
chasing for desires
short term and long term
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Bernard F. Asuncion
(Acrostic)
Beloved poet of spontaneous art,
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Shudhu Ekta choaan.
Sporsher noy,
Choker dutee tor,
Unmaadonaar bhoraa,
...
night
Night, the time to rest
Night to party is the best
Night, the time family sits together
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Today, tomorrow, same talk
Why would it matter one bit?
If I died today …
Why would it matter?
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The happiness that once swelled a proud expansive chest
has since subsided. Concavely, I must lament a dire and calamitous defeat;
my unholy reunion with the drink is now all too fatally complete.
Never a slave to any master, only the occasional scantily dressed mistresses
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A sense of calm dwells within,
while one experiences an
awareness of one’s
innermost feelings. In tune with
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In this SECTION “B “of November 2015 showcase, the poems will be (generally) of the following length: MORE THAN 12 LINES AND LESS THAN 51 LINES. Each poet may have one poem in this section; second poems (OR late 1st poems) of similar length shall be in SECTION “C”.
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A life time of happening
My little heart is flooded with
Filled to the rim experiences pour
Like waters in deep ocean
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Troubled sleep
Drowsy subconscious
Lost lucidity of
Silhouetted dreams
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The cemetery trees whisper
at the emptiness of a given prayer
The subconscious speaks,
though I'm unaware
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Pinkness I need neither white nor red,
Sleepiness I wish, neither living nor dead,
Loose grip of conscious, by a hard touch if it is raped,
So soft is my unconscious, it will be reshaped,
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The world is such a restaurant of God
According to competence and strength
Where all spend time with well and woe
Through the little guest moment
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You took me by surprise
Yet again
When you stormed my dream
Last night
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Here we are in America camouflaged in poverty
Our minds programmed - voice of prosperity
While there in Africa we lie starving
While there in Africa we lie dying
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