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A tough outer shell
Soft inner core, within
In crevices deep
Lies sweet water still

Calm and swift
The duck glides by
The pond
Where predators lurk

Like the powerhouse
Its energy source, profound
When it lights up
Brightens the whole town

An inspiration
Lies in the unlikeliest of places
Manifests itself
In Petals of lotuses

Sometimes in life’s unexpected turns
Time unveils
Solutions right
Hidden
In plain sight
Was inspired by my friend’s words

“Something’s really bugging me…
and since I know there's no solution
I’ll just keep it all bottled up" - Priti
It does not take much.
To give a kind word or two
Compliments and such.
 Jul 5 Druzzayne Rika
Ash
these echoes are still in my mind

(that look in your eyes,
the one you gave across the world)

scraps of you torn apart by time

(the promises we made,
wavering like a conquered flag)
this one is very visual to me in a way I can't communicate in the main body. the words are on a battlefield, but few in number - they're the wind, the ashes, and the last remnants of a war long past. it's the quiet that is the strongest emotional pull. the silence, the little remains of a destruction that was once there.
isn't it strange, that you meet yourself in different people, in new faces,
The person you witness and become, the imprint remains
It is part of you, subdued but brewed like cyclonic wind
Decode others with empathy, look beneath the eyelids
The door to the soul, it looks just like mine
From the exterior, what is, all these coverings?
We have hidden the warmth quite beneath everything.
In this reality
Her and I never met
In this verse my path
Bypassed that regret
Yet only to fall
For another one
Who'd break my heart
Before she's done
And on to another
Setting sun
  Of another multi
Universal conundrum
...
Traveler Tim
You have to let go and not hold on
When life's past has cut you to the bone
Cast away the anchors
grasp
Cut the ropes , drop sails on the mast
Check the weather that the sunrise casts
Let go , Let go ,
. . . the ugly past
 Jun 29 Druzzayne Rika
Lily
Simply words, without meaning,  
in a partly empty book.  
An empty page, not yet written,  
takes its time to fill the look.

Naming past and naming future  
the pain, the joy, the tears.  
And always, in some fragile echo,  
My deepest pain appears.
At the quantum levels
the wormholes connect..
Muse is but a solar radar
where particles redirect..

The patterns open
in a dopamine state..
Brilliant thoughts
begin to race..
Write them down
before they fade..
We are merely antenna
in the bio waves..
Traveler Tim
You need not hide
behind your poetry
You need not resist
what you believe
Your words are there upon the page
The naïve are deceived
Your greatest fears define you,
your closed mind is never free..
Loop us through your poetic spells..
Infect us with your bigotry…
Traveler Tim

I’m called the traveler because I have been all over this world and back. People are good people every everywhere you go..
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