Drowned in words...

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posted on Dec, 30 2012 @ 03:04 PM
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Words

Are but signposts
Mirrors

Better read between the lines
Resonate what's real

Who came to fool you
Keep you
Trapped
Broken

Who came to remind you
To set yourself
Free
Fire free
To burn like star again


In behind feel the flow
Feel whats real inside

What you hold
Behind the mask that hides you now
The roles which keeps you trapped

Deepest deep
Don't get stuck
In that boat you built
Ego drive
Ego drown
Ocean sets you free

Lies will drown
Diving into real


Do not trap yourself in words
Or get caught up in the numbers

Seek deeper
Always

Of the darkest waters the brightest light are born
The bleeding heart it loves the most

One drop out of many
Forms an ocean
Becomes a wave

It's coming
Inside
Outside
You

Flow and swim
Or play the role
Keep the mask and drown

Essence essence tune so deep
Touching everything

Fire born
And named through water

Only through the mask you die
Only by a role we fade

Emptiness it knows no dead
Only new beginnings
Standing in the doorway now

Heart so free and open




posted on Dec, 30 2012 @ 03:43 PM
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reply to post by laffoe
 


Very nice


Poems are the best.

I love being able to express how I really feel through words.

And you my friend did a very good job!

-nat



posted on Dec, 30 2012 @ 04:35 PM
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reply to post by natalia
 


Thanks my sweet friend
Only happy that your loving poetic heart liked it

Hugs and love to you



posted on Dec, 30 2012 @ 05:26 PM
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reply to post by laffoe
 


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Thanks laffoe for sharing another good poem.

Poems are great short stories about life that speak volumes.

It has been said that the greatest secrets of life are found out either through music, mathematics or poetry.

Mathematics and scientific theory are like the "high tech schematic" of life. However, Only the poem can put it all together into words that can be really understood at the deepest levels of thought, spirit and consciousness.

Below is a poem written years ago before we where born, yet the poet knew that her poem would have it's time.
I came across this poem while reading some Russian poets and thought it was a good one.

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These my poems, written so early…

These my poems, written so early
That I did not know then I was a poet,
Which having tore, like droplets from a fountain,
Like sparks from a rocket,
Into a sanctuary, where there is sleep and incense
Like little devils having burst,
These my poems about youth and about death,
This unread verse!
Scattered through shops in piles of dust
Where nobody picked them up or does,
These my poems, like precious wine,
Will have their time.

by ~ Marina Tsvetaeva (1892-1941) Russia


.



posted on Dec, 31 2012 @ 12:54 PM
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reply to post by chrisb9
 


How beautiful and touching, thanks for sharing that poem sweet friend

Yes only when we bend the words and stretch the language, only when we fill the emptiness between the lines and words with something real... From heart to heart.... Only then we may together, make sense
Create love
Heart by heart

Lots of love to you





 
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