Joshuas

A place to post poetry

36 posts in this topic

Hello everyone,

What i am hoping to get out of the replies to this post is for this to become a place where people can post their poetry (be it spiritual, philosophical, personal or short story). However, i don't want to keep this restricted to poetry, i would also like to see some philosophical musing, beautiful descriptions, insight full thoughts on life (perhaps having came to during a sessions of journaling)

What i don't want to be posted as a replies to this post is discussions, if that happens i will report them (of course i can't do more than that). But, of course, compliments or critiques are always useful and nice.

I'll try to post regularly, being someone who started writing poems by himself that should go well (with some periods of being more active and less active). Perhaps nothing will come of this besides me, no threat, i'll keep posting for a while anyways. Don't expect great poems of musings from me, but perhaps some gems will be posted as a reply to this in time (I, do, hope so).

 

Any one reading this who is into writing, poetry, philosophical musing, feel free to post.

Lets make this a thing of beauties :x

rumi.jpg

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Being a great fan of journaling, here is the first poem on this topic written about journaling.

Journaling.

Embark on this journey,

explore yourself, unpack your psyche, unveil your depths

 

Dig at the vault of soul

and bring forth your will and fear,

dwell on your mysteries and dig towards sincerity.

 

Illuminate in writing,

let it be a guide to finding your way

 through struggle, hope, desperation and wellbeing.

 

Purify and grow, transform and integrate.

Let the acid of growth work through you as you

Search your way in the way of things.

 

He who seeks will find.

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Nature, peace, solitude

You feel the place where you want to be,

nature, peace, solitude.

 

Let things go, let things be,

out of that

a will that brings you closer comes.

 

A will like a seed.

No tree grows from it,

it becomes a change of ways

 

It’s a hunch that leads you,

a bit closer to what you feel there is.

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Such a dear experience

Consciousness,

such a dear experience,

 

Always so intimately close to itself

and always wisely loving to those who are open

to its empty presence.

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The mystery of my contemplation

Your being is our being

My being is our being

 

look carefully and you will see

that so it is with all.

It is what isness reveals,

 when deepened.

 

My touch is your feel

and my feel is you skin

 

My sight is your eyes

My feeling is adoration

 

Your feeling is the mystery

of my contemplation

 

Your being is yours

and my being is mine

 

But where those overlap,

we meet in fields

of soul air

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Life towers over us (last one for today)

Life towers over us

and we face up to it.

 

It dances

and we go with it.

 

It sings

and we sing along.

 

As it comes

it goes by.

 

Looms over us

and it passes.

 

we seek

and we fall.

 

We come to find

and get broken

 

It’s ways

are our mind boggling

mystery.

 

In which

we’ll find our way.

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Great idea to start a poetry thread!

I had opened one a while back in the journaling section, but deleted it since no one seemed to be interested. 

@Joshuas Unfortunately your poems are more a collection of thoughts. If you try to rhyme them they would be nicer to read. 

The first one has a bit of imagery in it. 

Most of my stuff doesn't rhyme either, especially what I wrote at the beginning. Trust me it is much more satisfying to have 10 lines of a rhyming poem, than pages of disconnected lines. 

Its easy too. Especially with some tools. 

An online Syllable Counter

Rhymedb

Lyric Notepad (Android App) 

I'm looking forward to your next creations. 

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@Psychonaut Thanks for the feedback! Hope this will get going, a bit.

I write Free verse poems, i enjoy these the most. Free verse poems do not necessarily have to rhyme. But I'll to to write one that rhymes :). But i must say, i really suck at rhyming... I'll try anyways.

Also, i would like to read one of your poems.

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The warrior spirit

Your life is yours.

 

You live the way it goes

&

it goes the way you live it.

 

You are alone.

Your world can never be shared,

to you the world of another can never be known.

 

You are an ‘I’ in a vast universe

all on your own.

That is the root of loneliness.

 

You are an ‘I,’

the core of what It means to exist,

the magnificent pearl of awareness,

lost in the ways of the world.

 

Face up to loneliness

come to solitude,

seek your own way,

go to what calls you.

 

don’t become foolish,

stay grounded and strong.

Don’t lose the worlds way in your strife for greatness.

 

Become a warrior,

 

Evoke your spirit and find your fire.

 

Fight towards the life

you want to live.

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The jest of madness, the grey father of wisdom

The jester of madness

guarding depths.

 

His knives are panic,

his jokes are fear,

his riddles spin your neurosis.

 

His trickery was praised as a work of awe,

by one who saw through.

 

His jokes are laughed over,

as Absolute hilarity, when understood.

 

A bad friend,

who tells you what you don’t want to hear,

he is called by the wise.

 

He drags you down to hell,

looming madness & doom in your struggles

 

This he does

so that you can learn to face the darkness

crawling in your hidden liars,

 

this harlequin hasn’t revealed all

her secrets to me.

 

I’m just at the brink of facing this horror

and seeing it as humour, just at the brink.

 

But already some rest has been woven

into the madness of his tales.

 

And so, a haze of depth has

been revealed,

a feather of weight was held

in my awareness,

a door creek opened.

 

In it the jester hides

preparing ordeals to burn the rot

so that one day the door

opens.

 

The grey father of wisdom,

will stand behind the bowing jester

both kindly,

letting me inside.

 

So that I can succumb to their lessons,

to one day open Pandora’s box,

to be taken into beauty

and held

by an eternal pearl.

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Fly or Cry

Rays of gold sunlight shine onto your pale skin,

A bright fire rages and heats you from within,

To burn through all that is not true and holds you back,

You leap into your sure death to finally crack.

 

It may seem unfair to know that you are falling to your doom,

What can you do to foster the recalling of your last tomb.

Is there any use or point in crying out in despair,

When it seems to be as if there is no one there to care.

 

You created the world in which you live from within,

And are responsible for what you keep and bring in.

Nothing ever changed when all that you do is crying,

Instead you will need to spread your wings to start flying.

 

30.1.2019, Version: 1

Edited by Psychonaut

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Addicted to Pain

 

It is his addiction to self inflicted pain,

Which makes him delve down, though there’s nothing to attain.

The bleeding doesn’t stop, his body is in strain.

In the preceding moment he will cut his vein.

 

Red blood gushes from his throat as his fear takes shape.

Dark energy rushes through, pushing him to rape.

His memory trapped him, with no way to escape.

It is okay, he is insane, it’s all on tape.

 

31/01/2019, Version 2

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@Psychonaut I really like Fly of Cry!

The rhyming does make it very powerful. I've tried it a bit, still feels very new and rusty to me, but i'll try to create something somewhat elegant.

Addicted to Pain is rather dark. If you want to talk, you can always message. Of course it could very well just be for the poem, in that case never mind. But if it's personal, i think i get it, hard times.

I'll post one or two poems soon.

Edited by Joshuas

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A prayer of spring.

I’ve prayed a prayer for spring

Hoping to sprout a time of blessing.

 

Out of an odourless fragrance           

This sprayer came

 

Trying to grasp it is like saying a nameless name

 

All I can say is 

imagine a lightless light ,

a shining transparency, o so bright

 

In it the yellow green of spring leaves truly glows,

it feels like the wind soothing a field of meadows.

 

For now, the struggle of struggling has washed away.

As all, it too was bound to decay.

 

I've been seeking for the wisdom of spring 

as i've been trying to get onto the path                                                                                                                                                                                                   

of a kingdomless king.                                                                                                                                                                                     

Edited by Joshuas

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a finger span

a tap, then gone

no thought is mine

nor will it shine

forever

but deep engraved

the trace of brave

and liberating feeling

above the head no ceiling 

together

 

 

 

a wish, a wink, a trick

a moment 

the clock says tick

the lock says click

a feather sticked.

 

 

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14 hours ago, Joshuas said:

A prayer of spring.

I’ve prayed a prayer for spring

Hoping to sprout a time of blessing.

 

In it the yellow green of spring leaves truly glows,

it feels like the wind soothing a field of meadows.                                                                                                                                                                             

I like that you rhymed a bit. Those lines are my favorite. They have a bit of imagery.

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Brain Daggers

 

What is it, what is real and true,

When all I feel and am is you.

Or more, it is the lack of you.

An unreal split back into two.

 

It is not real, I know it deep down,

But it feels so real, I lie facedown.

In the hole I have dug, I will drown.

My soul weeps, I finally break down.

 

It keeps repeating over and over.

My heart is hit and bleeds from exposure.

I wanted to show her how to go there,

Now its fleeting away going nowhere.

 

 

31.1.2019, Version 2

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there are flowers that bloom and birds that sing in the night

there are people who shine that bright

like bread from the manna tree

like milk from the ambrosian sea

like a mirrored mirage 

of an inkblot collage

wild

sad

mad

free

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Cool breeze against my skin,

Soft warmth of breathing in,

Waves break gently again, and again,

Where did I end, or begin?

 


All stories and explanations are false.

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An ocean in a salty tear, a blink a blink for every year, that passes by, Tell me: what trick am I? 


All stories and explanations are false.

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