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Amitav Radiance May 2015
The heart’s ways
Take a forlorn path
Mind takes time
To appreciate
Long before
A realization
Of two parallels
Never to meet
Mike Essig Apr 2015
A pirate sailed south, but too far.
The good ship's prow found
harbors filled with icebergs,
frolicking penguins and walruses:
it began to snow inside his mortal soul.
He dreamed of perfect white beaches,
warm sand, sunlight, palm trees
and (perhaps) a lovely French poet in a slight bikini
lolling like Erato on holiday.
He could taste the sun and coconut on her skin.
It was only a vision, but one worthy of a quest.
He preferred living dreams to dead conclusions.
Many people told him he dreamed too much,
to accept this landfall and be content.
But cold and darkness are not a pirate's lot
and contentment does not appear
in the official pirate's vocabulary.
Even an aging pirate holds true to course,
pinned like a medal to his longing and desire.
More sail, he cried, and turned the helm
toward the islands of his heart,
toward a landfall of warmth and color,
toward hot and willing flesh,
toward parrots and monkeys and blue skies.
Leaving the nay-sayers in the cold,
he headed the only direction a pirate can, further.
- mce
I love pirates; always wanted to be one. Almost made it but ran out of time. Argh!
Mike Essig Apr 2015
You shall not find solace
in the marble laws of Man.
Self-help programs
and sermons
will not dispel the emptiness.
***, drugs, madness, alcohol
will not prevail.
The constructs of religion
will only constrict your dreams.
God is a disinterested third party
waiting to be approached,
not caring if he is or isn't.
Submit to the vacuum
of your heart at four a.m.
Surrender to the void
that only love can fill.
Drink deeply; hold tight.
Dawn must come.
  - mce
Jamie King Apr 2015
It's a rain of needles.
Silver skies, the ground
red with blood of a friend.
was I the spikes falling down?
Piercing tears
Stabbing the heart
Impaling the skin
Tearing apart, a bond forged in wars.
Am I now beyond foes' walls?
Hope smothered whole even so
there is still hope...
I'm sorry:(
Through the darkness I part the Veil,
And walk the hidden paths,
In the brightness beyond the pale,
I see what none have seen.
There's danger here in the world beyond,
In the gleam beyond the gloom.

And all my days it waits for me,
The calling in my blood,
And through the years I walk the paths,
That very few have seen,
The Veil grows thin as years go by,
In the gleam beyond the gloom.

Through the darkness I return again,
From those fair hidden paths,
And as I walk I learn to talk,
Like I once knew I could,
For few have been beyond the veil,
In the gleam beyond the gloom.

~In the Gleam Beyond the Gloom by Bethany "Lorekeeper" Davis, March 5, 2015


My attempt at translating it into Latin:

Velum parte post umbram,
Et ambulate per semitae occultae,
In splendóribus supra pallidus,
Non video quid viderim.
Non est hic mundus extra periculum,
In splendóribus post umbram.

Et omnibus diebus meis memet maneat
Vocatio in sanguine meo,
Et per annos ambulate semitae,
Valde pauci, quas vidi,
Velum crescit tenuis quod eunt anni,
In splendóribus post umbram.

Per tenebras revertentur
Ex his latet semitas occultae,
Et ego ambulo illis loquela,
Scientes semel ego potui,
Pauci abierunt trans velum,
In splendóribus post umbram.


And a translation of that Latin from an academic translation site:

And the hanging for the part after the shadow,
And walk by the ways of the hidden God,
In the brightness of beyond the pale,
I do not see what I saw,
He is not here the world is out of danger,
In the brightness after the shadow.

The call waits for me,
In my blood, and all my days,
And I will walk you through the years, the highways,
Very few men, that I have seen,
As the years go by the thin veil of the increases,
In the brightness after the shadow.

From these things it is hidden by the darkness,
They shall come again the paths of the hidden God,
And I, I walk the angels have speech,
Yet knowing that once I was able to,
They went to the other side of the veil of the few,
In the brightness after the shadow.
Sombro Mar 2015
He smiled,
And the lines on his face were dug anew
About his mouth,
To the girl with lines around her eyes.

She shut them tight
And thought of worlds of sun and stars
Where men flew and birds watched in envy
She was watched by the man with lines on his brow

For he frowned
Head of liquid knowledge hung
Heavily over the page
And the lines of his thought marked deeper

A joke, a dream, a book
All this and more to these different ones
Many more with lines from all their lives of spleandour or squalour
I thought of them and the lines wrote themselves

Deep in thoughtful ink.
What we do in our lives makes us who we are, and its effect is always easy to see.
Amitav Radiance Feb 2015
Lost in the wanderings
Through the ancient paths
Covered in anonymity
Long before they saw light
Many civilizations perished
Unaware wanderings
Lead the heart to unknown territories
Lost in the midst of nowhere
But have found an existence
Uncanny feelings awaken
A realization of the lost soul
Finally, it has found
Crowd of humanity could not spare
From the least known places
The soul has found a treasure trove
Wandering through meanderings
Directed the lost traveler
To a place of wonder and clarity
Herein lies the truth
Immerse yourself in silence
To celebrate the new realization
Katherine D Feb 2015
A story lies
  within theses eyes.
a story unheard,
  completely absurd.

A truth untold
  is about to unfold.
a truth contains no lies
  but oh so many ties.

A path forgotten  
  grows rotten.
a path will cost
  all will be lost.

A heart not taught  
  is left distraught.
a heart grown cold
  will lose its hold.

A soul unprotected
   can be subjected.
a soul left bone dry
  will surly die.  

        ~K.D.
The tears leave paths
down my face
across my self
Cutting deep in grooves
Indentations
where I can still feel
You

Your touch
running across my cheeks
falling
I walk down those trails
aimlessly
because you are still
there
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