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allsoulsrize Matt @allsoulsrize mentions
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Street black underneath to match the sky around to match the place of you. And the mystic made the ...
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Street black underneath to match the sky around to match the place of you. And the mystic made the distinction of being: oscuros, in the dark, its totality, knowing neither good nor bad, cause nor effect, ignorance; and tenebrios, in the shadows, removed from the light but aware of it, sequestered, ... Street black underneath to match the sky around to match the place of you. And the mystic made the distinction of being: oscuros, in the dark, its totality, knowing neither good nor bad, cause nor effect, ignorance; and tenebrios, in the shadows, removed from the light but aware of it, sequestered, un-illuminated by one’s own volition. Do you not understand? Or do you choose to not understand? The road in both directions immediate and somehow unpassable: you cannot go back but there is so much still to do—you must go forward but you are not ready. A flash here and there to pause the movement but inside it continues, will always continue because it is compelled to do so. And there may be answers but they certainly will not be found tonight, yet within a burning to have it all now, this moment, never more present than when trapped—against time, the world, circumstance, the inside of your head. Free floating in the microcosm of mind, satellite adrift, echoless in the tawny black void, wayward, caught between gravities, ineffable duration. It continues. Not because you want it to, but because it simply does. And the motions that are made are not of you though you believe them to be so. The body moves, the mind follows, the world stretches and turns itself anew and here in this place you move forward to take the next step, and the next, and the next. The only ones to be had. Neither forward nor back: if any given spot is the center of an infinity, what choices do you have? What choices can you make? Only one it seems, at least at a time, and shrouded as such—the shadow only lifts once it has passed, the whole of it all visible only, as it were, over one’s shoulder; and the way ahead, always and forever, unknown.

#poem #poetry #mypoetry #poet #poetsofinstagram #poetsofig #instapoetry #writer #writing #mywriting #writersofinstagram #writersofig #instawrite #instawriter
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And looking at you always felt like staring into flames, this beast this animal this uncontrollable ...
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And looking at you always felt like staring into flames, this beast this animal this uncontrollable thing that both burned and warmed both took and gave life, that absorbed all that was thrown into it and turned it into something new or, at the least, something that was forever changed. And ... And looking at you always felt like staring into flames, this beast this animal this uncontrollable thing that both burned and warmed both took and gave life, that absorbed all that was thrown into it and turned it into something new or, at the least, something that was forever changed. And there was that night on the beach, the full moon above and the drums beating their prayer and the blaze round which all of it revolved, all of it, that is, except for you; and I went from there a little lessened, not as much as I had been, but as I left the fire burned bright, the stars its only equal, and I knew it would not last untended; but then, I remembered, the spark from which it came could always be--in fact by its very nature waited to be--struck anew.

#poem #poetry #mypoetry #instapoet #instapoetry #poetsofinstagram #writing #writer #mywriting #writersofinstagram
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And where was the end and when will it be--this place between conclusions and beginnings; close ...
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And where was the end and when will it be--this place between conclusions and beginnings; close close close, packed in and pressed in on all sides but so far from one another--microcosm made macroscopic, these singularities of ours propping up opposite sides of all that is the case. And you ... And where was the end and when will it be--this place between conclusions and beginnings; close close close, packed in and pressed in on all sides but so far from one another--microcosm made macroscopic, these singularities of ours propping up opposite sides of all that is the case. And you are there and yet not, a flesh present but a spirit gone elsewhere, and I here, and here and here and here, clutching at a shadow, wrestling with an end, let this go, pain and peace strange bedfellows: be here, feel it, own--the shore knows only the crash at its feet, unceasing, eternal, and bears it.

#poem #poet #poetry #mypoetry #instapoet #instapoetry #poetsofinstagram #poetsofig #writer #writersofinstagram #writersofig #latergram
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Comfrey patch. "Comfrey leaves are not only rich in proteins, they are a great source of folic acid, ...
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Comfrey patch. "Comfrey leaves are not only rich in proteins, they are a great source of folic acid, many vitamins, and every mineral and trace mineral we need for a strong immune system, a calm nervous system, and a happy hormone system. See why I'm so fond of comfrey? What a marvelous ally ... Comfrey patch. "Comfrey leaves are not only rich in proteins, they are a great source of folic acid, many vitamins, and every mineral and trace mineral we need for a strong immune system, a calm nervous system, and a happy hormone system. See why I'm so fond of comfrey? What a marvelous ally she is!" --Susun Weed

#farmlife #farming #farm #floridafarming #urbanfarming #organicfarming #gardening #organicgardening #permaculture #bacyardpermaculture #homescalepermaculture #homestead #homesteader #urbanhomestead #comfrey #herbalally #susunweed
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And shouts into the void are never just that: this pretension that we expect no reply, that we are ...
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And shouts into the void are never just that: this pretension that we expect no reply, that we are sufficed by the notion of screaming into emptiness and letting the act itself be a catharsis; but no cry is ever so innocent, no voice placated by the thought of itself reverberating in eternity: ... And shouts into the void are never just that: this pretension that we expect no reply, that we are sufficed by the notion of screaming into emptiness and letting the act itself be a catharsis; but no cry is ever so innocent, no voice placated by the thought of itself reverberating in eternity: we want an answer, some retort from the beyond, an inkling that there is something waiting on the other side. And yet our only reply is the echo, the same question poised to the unknowable hurled back at us, slower and fainter and fading to memory—perhaps a hope that we ourselves are our best listeners, truth only understood when we say it ourselves, carried upon the wind, last tendrils edges of it, mere glimpses of the brightest moments we can conceive; but none of that matters in a given moment, near evening and post-torrent, the world saturated from three days rain, the greens vibrant and near-shining in a greyling dusk, whiffs of damp and rot and grass, above it all but scattered the sweet stink of a Black & Mild, here then gone then here again; and you are running and you're never sure if it's towards or from, the nature of a circle to have neither beginning nor end, and you want, hope, have to believe in your heart of hearts that that which you lose will be returned at some point, and so you continue to run, each step a word, the distance, immeasurable though it may be, a phrase, the will to continue is your voice; this howl, this yawp, this big fucking scream; beyond its contents a plea: let it not be unanswerable; let it not go unheeded.

#thevoid #robertfludd #poem #poet #poetry #mypoetry #instapoet #instapoetry #poetsofinstagram #poetsofig #writer #writersofinstagram #writersofig
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"I heard its getting windy and we'll all be blown away, Did you tell me you're afraid? Darling, you look so afraid. And I don't know what happens when everything here ends, But I hope it's like they said, And I hope it never ends..." #farmlife #farming #farm #floridafarming #urbanfarming ... "I heard its getting windy and we'll all be blown away,
Did you tell me you're afraid?
Darling, you look so afraid.
And I don't know what happens when everything here ends,
But I hope it's like they said,
And I hope it never ends..." #farmlife #farming #farm #floridafarming #urbanfarming #organicfarming #gardening #organicgardening #permaculture #bacyardpermaculture #homescalepermaculture #homestead #homesteader #urbanhomestead #pagefrance #dogs #hellodearwind
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"and I will turn the soil with my hands and I will make my home there my garden will grow so high my ...
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"and I will turn the soil with my hands and I will make my home there my garden will grow so high my garden will grow so high that I will be completely hidden." #farmlife #farming #farm #floridafarming #urbanfarming #organicfarming #gardening #organicgardening #permaculture #bacyardpermaculture ... "and I will turn the soil with my hands
and I will make my home there
my garden will grow so high
my garden will grow so high
that I will be completely hidden." #farmlife #farming #farm #floridafarming #urbanfarming #organicfarming #gardening #organicgardening #permaculture #bacyardpermaculture #homescalepermaculture #homestead #homesteader #urbanhomestead #growyourown #aeroponic #towergarden #kale #swisschard #greensongreens #themountaingoats
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And I never knew where to turn, arguments and diatribes woven in my head, never to reach my mouth, ...
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And I never knew where to turn, arguments and diatribes woven in my head, never to reach my mouth, but I wanted so badly to scream to shake to make my impression known, understood, FELT, above all else to make her feel what I was going through, because surely no person could put another through ... And I never knew where to turn, arguments and diatribes woven in my head, never to reach my mouth, but I wanted so badly to scream to shake to make my impression known, understood, FELT, above all else to make her feel what I was going through, because surely no person could put another through pain if they knew the sting of it? And yet, there in the darkness, alone with the ceiling, black with late evening, prayers fired like tracer rounds one after another into the dome of what I believed to be listening: bring her back, soften her heart; open her eyes and ears to possibility; look after her because she is doing the best she can and she is scared, too. And I wanted to hate her but understood too well her humanity; wanted to yell and hurt her with words but knew too closely the truth of her being. And my admiration only made it harder, this cold knot in my chest drawn tight around the thought of her pain and the loss of her presence--I could taste my fear, worst in the nighttime: it's not the other side of this I'm afraid of, but the journey to it. And her light shone soft from her room, from her self: luminous, warm, and unwelcoming.

#poem #poet #poetry #mypoetry #instapoet #instapoetry #poetsofinstagram #poetsofig #writer #writersofinstagram #writersofig #iamahotassmess
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And it was all spectral rouge at the horizon, the penumbral shadow cast as a mask of crimson, of wine-dark, ...
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And it was all spectral rouge at the horizon, the penumbral shadow cast as a mask of crimson, of wine-dark, huge and stark against the sea below it. And the tide was in, the shore-pound raucous and evident, no gentle lullaby, and somewhere amidst it the sound of kids playing, conversation, ... And it was all spectral rouge at the horizon, the penumbral shadow cast as a mask of crimson, of wine-dark, huge and stark against the sea below it. And the tide was in, the shore-pound raucous and evident, no gentle lullaby, and somewhere amidst it the sound of kids playing, conversation, a gathering, the beach no empty seascape this evening. And the idea is that in syzygy comes shadow, the moon's light dimmed by the very presence of that which it orbits, and this becomes a reflection of the darkness within us; or rather, that which we would prefer not to reveal, what is kept hidden--soul and satellite part and counterpart. And we are asked to bring it forth and let it be, accept it as additive to the mixture that is us: pour the whole of ourselves into the world, and do so without regret, unapologetically. But for me on that beach, the sea the sand the waves, Selene ascendant, ruddy-faced and scattered and sparkling on the eastward calm past the breakers, it was just another chance to clasp hands, knees half-buried, head bent, the whole of me intent on you, pleading once more to a darkened and star dappled sky to share in your life, to keep us whole; to see one another true and patent; to care unequivocally, love holistically: all edges and corners--both good and bad, past and present, shadow and light.

#poem #poet #poetry #mypoetry #instapoet #instapoetry #poetsofinstagram #poetsofig #writer #writersofinstagram #writersofig #eclipse #lunareclipse
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And the mornings were always the worst, when the understanding of what might come in the light of ...
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And the mornings were always the worst, when the understanding of what might come in the light of the day became real. At night there was always possibility: the optimist’s dream of a sea-change, a cosmic shift that could happen while we slept. Aren’t revelations found in dreams? Don’t people ... And the mornings were always the worst, when the understanding of what might come in the light of the day became real. At night there was always possibility: the optimist’s dream of a sea-change, a cosmic shift that could happen while we slept. Aren’t revelations found in dreams? Don’t people wake up new, see their world from a different perspective, and realize what they have is what they seek? Or maybe it was the same for her: the mornings adding more steel to her already iron resolve, each day a reminder of what she did not have; each turn of the sun one step closer to ridding herself of what no longer served. And that morning I woke and left our bed, her still deep in the covers, more than likely halfway between sleep and waking; and I stopped for a moment when I realized that it might be the last time I do such a thing: leave her sleeping in our bed, creep softly from our room; that from there on out “our” would no longer apply, and the silent but cataclysmic realization that everything was about to change. And I stood for a moment silent, unsure of what to do, no action seeming appropriate or even meaningful. For want of better I kissed my hand and touched the bed just south of her feet, and proceeded as I always do: looking to the morning light outside, that brought with it a world unknown and unsure; and yet, as always, with hope for the better.

#poem #poet #poetry #mypoetry #instapoet #instapoetry #poetsofinstagram #poetsofig #writer #writersofinstagram #writersofig
#johnkeats #tohope #brightstar
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And I was knocking knocking knocking on the other side of you; on the opposite space of what was between ...
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And I was knocking knocking knocking on the other side of you; on the opposite space of what was between us; this thing, huge and insurmountable. And I would knock it down if I could, but I haven’t the tools, each implement I try useless against the face of it. And we learn that love tears walls ... And I was knocking knocking knocking on the other side of you; on the opposite space of what was between us; this thing, huge and insurmountable. And I would knock it down if I could, but I haven’t the tools, each implement I try useless against the face of it. And we learn that love tears walls down, that instead it builds bridges; but somehow each “I love you” adds another brick; each “please” the mortar; each attempt to keep us whole seeming only to strengthen the partition, to fortify the barrier. I here. You there. The delineation between one and the other, once imperceptible, now given form: an edge defined; an end perceived. And I would destroy it, but it’s not mine to dismantle. And so I will wait, and hope that time wears its façade, weakens its foundation; until finally the stones that divide us instead pave the way back to one another.

#poem #poet #poetry #mypoetry #instapoet #instapoetry #poetsofinstagram #poetsofig #writer #writersofinstagram #writersofig
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And her eyes were green, all emerald deep and malachite strong, and in them could be found the echoes ...
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And her eyes were green, all emerald deep and malachite strong, and in them could be found the echoes of a life lived long and true, as true as any other anyways, no better no worse, genuine, with love and sadness, heartache and joy; but the last time I saw her her eyes were closed, lain restful ... And her eyes were green, all emerald deep and malachite strong, and in them could be found the echoes of a life lived long and true, as true as any other anyways, no better no worse, genuine, with love and sadness, heartache and joy; but the last time I saw her her eyes were closed, lain restful and lash-to-cheek eternal, and though I wished I could look into them one more time, sparkling and alive, and have them understand, to see the knowing somewhere behind them, it couldn't be; and so instead I'll look for their reflection in the bright moments, the instants  that we find, every now and again, when the truth for which we search shows itself ever so briefly: ours to hold and, just as quickly, to let go.

#poem #poet #poetry #mypoetry #instapoet #instapoetry #poetsofinstagram #poetsofig #writer #writersofinstagram #writersofig
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