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Sean Achilleos Jan 2020
For God is the ocean
And we are the rivers
And all rivers run to the ocean
No matter how far

s.achilleos
6 Jan 2020
s.achilleos
6 Jan 2020
Colm Jan 2020
Don't wake me darling
I have no worry once here
Where rushing life finds
Every flowing finger free
And contented rivers be
"Don't wake me from this dream, please"

I wanted this seventh verse to be a personal one. And it is, a visual representation of how I perceive being at peace with your own mind. With learning how to let thoughts pass you by, without care or concern. Be in the river, up to your waist,  and be free of thought or fear complete.

Sunday Seven (or S7) is a series of tanka verses (57577) which I completed one cloudy Sunday afternoon. With topics ranging from the faithfulness of dawn to the depths if the ocean home, I hope you enjoy reading them and can appreciate the height and depth of this variety.
Colm Dec 2019
Close your eyes
Stand in the river
Let all of the waters whip past you by
Though you be made of similar materials found
You are no less running
Ever moreso alive
Than the current to be found around
Let the waters pass you by
This is how I, an introvert, need to be around people. More willing to flow without being swept away.

Let the waters pass you by
Harley Hucof Oct 2019
So much to take to vibrate in higher states
To liberate what you must pay.
I try to make myself see,
I find emptiness in an invisible sea.
Held, blind, my eyes are not mine,
But the truth is clear ,
But my lips are sealed,
Anyway there is no one to hear.
While i am connected i am leaving symbols maybe someone will read for me my roles.

Words Of Harfouchism
Tyler Matthew Oct 2019
She dreams in aqua blue,
seasons melting into one another,
dancing among fallen leaves
or beneath the golden sun,
     her fiery green eyes shimmering
     like emeralds in a jewelry store case,
     skin like water running through  fingers,
     dancing, dancing,
hands thrown to the sky
casting rainbows like ribbons
to celebrate the dawning of her joy.
Starry Aug 2019
As an ice River flower
The locals
Say it was from the gods
And goddesses
Of the Himalayan
Mountain
For each peak
Is the home of either.
So when you see a river
Think where it came from
Colm Aug 2019
Through the rivers and the rain
   My emotions seep

No matter how far I reach
   How quiet I be
      Or how fervently I wish
      For this condensated heart to dry

Beneath stars and moonlight vain
   I stay
      Locked in the garden of perpetual being
         Without your warmth of certain meaning

And when the new morning comes
   With the quiet thought
      I realize what I had always ought

That I cannot seem to make you mine
   Regardless of the place or time
https://youtu.be/HGekjZd5LPk
Colm Aug 2019
Poetry is
The earth we see
When its tumultuous and green

And syllables
Are the rivers
Carving out valleys deep beneath
I did a pretty in depth analysis on one of my favorite singer/songwriter and the results were surprising. He often crafts lyrics in a very poetic fashion, with an orderly, underlying structure of sorts. Never unwilling to bend or break from the format. But still clever in the ways of syllable-based structuring. Which is cool and makes me want to take better care of my own prose and poetic lines.
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