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Theres no going back to who we were,
I am a different breed of love, your cur…
I loved you once more,
You didn’t treat me *****…
So what left to lose now,
Our eternal pain somehow…
It’s more than letting go,
When memories a’flood, and glow.
What madness to think my own life,
To burden you to death, cheat me midwife…
It’s more than a pure grudge,
Your slave to sludge…
Funny thing you teach away,
Fondness of the heart forced at bay…
I’d like to think somewhere so it all works,
Deepening the worst wasted worlds, lurks?
Just know it wasn’t your fault -
Us lost in love? Our names found, souls exalt …
From listening to HEALTH & Nine Inch Nails, Isn’t Everyone.
They slaughtered all my comrades
The decades and demands
No more
Take heart I say
to myself, leaning against
the wall to end sorrow.

Solar year, O red
and green pain, don't invite the
wounds. Don't cry moon, don't.

Standing in the pulpit
I invoked peace to stop the hands
of clock. Time was moving very fast.
Satsih Verma May 24
When life stops, will
you learn what death is? A living
death solves idolatry one day.

Why do you run for
more? Am I wrong? When I want
to stop you, you were searching pearls

The exile gives a real
meaning to meet the god at the end
of land. A rebel faces the truth.
Satsih Verma May 23
Can you heal my
insomnia? Raise the bar
and eat your words.

You have stopped
singing. Take me moon I
am getting very hot.

Why people are dying
without blood? Someone
was sending the message?
Jeremy Betts May 22
I can't live with these thoughts
Take them from me permanently
Or ready my pine box

All life's cheap shots
I've never found a remedy
All pleasantry coagulates or clots

Vast planes of sparse lots
Riddle my memory so little to no memory
Only empty, inflammatory subpar plots

My past leaches off my future as it rots
Leaving mostly nothing left for me
Subsequently having less than the have nots

©2024
I passed by a piece of land
It was covered with weeds
Aside the trees, it has nothing else my eyes wanted to see
The same land before now saw different farm tools dress it
Season after season
Year after year
It was dressed and clothed with different crops
Crops in rows and and made of different colours
But this piece of land has lost its beauty today
The tools won't work it again
The rains may come
The sun isn't out of job
But the tools have all gone to bed
Because the farmer has gone home to rest
A rest from all this earthly stress
Vitæ May 22
Awake from a dream
dipped in sun fire,
is a caterpillar still
wrestling in my heart's
asylum—a chrysalis,
summoned by the
wilderness, is prying
itself open.

Where the field laid
bare in a pallor of cold,
is where spring begins
to overflow, like flowers
blooming from the deepest
nether—loving death is
outgrowing this world.

I wear a cloak of patience
over limitless energy,
shedding for dialogue
between potentialities,
inside me spins a thread
of great longing, but
around me, a great hope
is bursting at the seams.

A force spurs a descent
from the cave, from the
crumbling walls I am made.
What remains lifts the
curtains before a
show begins, where
in solitude I undress to
become a house of wings.

The orchard cradles
my smallness in a
concentrated blossom—
lighter than breath,
brighter than vision,
hidden among all there is,
a great wave inside a ripple.
To be delighted is to realise,
the world you fell into is
a vast sky.
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