Tag: Poetry
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Recently – Poems
Torn – I was torn apart, Away from what I knew. One day I was put back together, And it was all because of you. – M L Wood My Home – I search inside, Looking for my home. There I find you, And I know, I’ll never be alone. – M L Wood
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A Man and His Dog
As we breathe in, and out, He is there. When we smile or laugh or cry, He is there. As the sun sets, And world fades into the darkest of nights, He is there. When the bones ache, And the memories have started to fade, In your heart, He will always, be there. – M…
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Solipsism – Are You The Only Living Being That Is Conscious?
If one is willing to admit that they exist, that is to say that they have an internal world and subjective conscious experience, then one must also be willing to admit that they can never disprove the idea that they might be the only conscious being in the universe. Or, is this merely nonsense? Solipsism…
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The Man and His Soul
What is a man’s soul but a collection of all he has known, seen or heard. The metaphysical umbrella that is “him”. Yet, also, what is not him. The soul is what man could be, will be and all of the previous generations that have come before, wrapped neatly into a bag of bones that…
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A Brush Stroke
With the stroke of a brush one can forever change the colour of a room. The same can be said of one’s words, choose them wisely. – M L Wood
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The Ideal & Anxiety`
The difference between your ideal self, the version of yourself that you aspire to be, and the manifestation that you currently embody, is the amount of room that the devil has to play. This situation provides a certain amount of angst and necessary integration. That is to say, if you are moving toward this ideal…
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Faith In Values
Ones positive emotions are tenuous, fleeting and inextricably linked to value systems. That is to say, that one must have faith in ideals, certain beliefs and values. All of this pertains as to how you perceive, interact and cope with the world around you. Faith is embodied wisdom. And through this faith in something bigger…
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The Bees
My eyes close. I hear them. The bees. They are doing what bees do. The sound is so clear, so concise, its hard to distinguish where it ends, and where I begin. Wait. Perhaps there is no beginning or end. No! Merely sensory input, that insists on being interpreted in such binaries. Such a tragic…
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Rebirth
Volcanoes are like the seasons destroyers, to be sure perhaps, we should be in awe. fire and ice, they are, creators of life. a phoenix, reborn we often, only mourn. Let us take a moment, to remember, the illusion its all – evolution. please – love, don’t fear, the end is always near. smile, rebirth…