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Therapy Poetry

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olson29
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Re: Therapy Poetry

Postby olson29 » Wed Jul 30, 2014 11:28 am

Jade Falls


It's too tough sometimes, this human experience.
We're so righteous and that makes us more wrong,
We point out flaws in others that could very well
be our own. Can we blame the sky for changing blues,
greys, shades of black? Can we blame the seed for
becoming what it is? Can we blame the river for
going as it goes, the aquifer for being quiet.

The closer we become the more we are unveiled to
the imperfections we all share. In poor health or poverty,
in emotions, and essential mistakes - we are all suspended
in a state where we can choose love or unforgiveness,
and this will be one of the greatest factors in your destiny.

It's so tough to love, to only love. People piss us off, and
hurt our feelings. Sometimes we become so enlightened,
yet forget it all and lose it all in the matter of a moment.
Other times we decide we do not like someone and
only hurt ourself because of it, over and over. Love feels better.

How will you be love(d), when you allow yourself to serve others
no matter how much it hurts your pride, when you can
stop taking it personal. There are divorces and marriages,
but how great are friendships and all relationships when
we never give up, and we accept the darkness in others
(since it can only be found within ourself), and we laugh
instead of becoming angry because we are patient sent from
Heaven, hopeful, we see the child in us all. We are humbled
by the consciousness that helps us all the most. We are inspired
by everything around us, made by all that we embrace
in the conscious or sub-conscious. Waves swim into waves
and rain, they storm within eachother and open up as
sunshine comes through beyond the last colours of sunset.

How much greater are we when we love no matter what,
it's ok if you fail as long as you don't give up. I love you,
I'm sorry for all I've done to hurt you, I forgive you flawfully, let us love
eachother and feel great - when each of us (by some miracle)
flows within our soul in a fraction of a moment, a part of our
life forever and now, because we shared something, no matter
what, yet, we always have the choice, to experience the
pain and sacrifice to let go of all that is not love and only
exist in love. We are all greater because of it, because
of how we never gave up on those we loved, no matter what,
because of how we loved. An hourglass of sand sifts to end.



Eyes Closed
you are poetry

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Re: Therapy Poetry

Postby olson29 » Wed Aug 06, 2014 1:20 am

We lost our way and forgot how to write.
In this world we became captivated by
things that did not matter, and we became
untrue to ourself. But who are we, when each
moment has the power to redefine anything.
Where are the images? Bawling in the shower.
Being jumped by 9 people and somehow coming
out, still alive with only a swollen cheek and
a black eye. It hurts to eat, it hurts to breathe,
it all hurts because of love. We lost, we became
consumed by worries of what others thought
and represented none of these enlightened philosophies
and this is the way you should be's. Was it rebellion
therapy, was it a time decided to go absolutely wild,
was it the storm, the hurricane as it ruins the land,
the same rain and wind that had set itself so softly
on the land, now devouring at it's highest speeds.
There are metaphors all around us, giving every answer
we could ever want and need. And what about lost contacts?
Those special people we lost touch with... some say move on the past
does not matter, or it all fades away anyways, but isn't it beautiful
how a person can touch your soul in such a way that you always smile
when you think of them. It's a war, it's a peace, it's all at once, it's all you decide it to be.
I forgot how to write, concussions and war stories, reading about how
we almost died. They call me dramatic, they say it;s too intense, so much life lived
in a moment. this stimulation is too much to bear, yet, somehow we emerge, newborn
out the eggshell of previosu moments and into new moments. Out the womb of the past where all is forgotten
yet still held onto. So what is it, what is it, where is that enlightenment that helps it all
make sense? i close my eyes and reassure my soul. This is now, don't worry about the future, be thankful,
all of this is graceful, be, be, love no matter how hard it is. She said to just have fun, just enjoy
the moment. What a reminder when it gets tough. Be kind for these people are sacrificing for you.
I'm spiraling into the core of mountains, listening to the stories of rock, feeling a water
powerful enough to drip through a whole mountain, what journey, feeling the streets of 'New York, Sao Paulo
innovation flow youth forever reinventing yet still reveling in the timeless. Excuse me, I'm lost,
rehabbing, learning how to write again. Not letting these fingers rest. i lost it too absorbed in stuff that does not matter
and this is all that can make me complete, why do i read bullshit. What would it be if this if that, yet still
there is teh paradox and we must be thankful for what is, cause as little as there is there could be less.
you are poetry

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Re: Therapy Poetry

Postby olson29 » Sat Sep 06, 2014 9:43 pm

Perhaps it's just a moment, still in a relationship
But ever so alone. No one can hear this cause
Too many people can read this. We crack
Open coconuts, and sing to the laughter of life.
A laughter we overcame after everything.
Nostalgia just makes it hurt, but emotions
Are so powerful, and it's funny when we say it
They become less, and eventually we move into
A new moment, thinking about different things,
Us the receivers and creators of our reality.
Just had to set it all free, let grace be.
It could be worse. Thank God, for health,
It can be taken at any moment. This is precious
And it feels like everything is in rhythm.
Just sitting in my car, listening to some obscure
Radio station, a freestyle journal entry, letting it be.
Beauty, beauty, beauty, it will always be, beauty.
you are poetry

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Re: Therapy Poetry

Postby olson29 » Sat Oct 11, 2014 11:28 pm

It's too much to ask for, but I'm dreaming,
And this is therapy. My dream woman; I'm losing
Hope, yet still have faith. You listen, truly listen,
You remember insights, words, you are a poet,
An artist, a photographer, a healer. You are
A teacher of love, you give your all and listen
With all. You feel the ocean and you dance to life.
You have a flow that defies gravity and water and fire;
A soul so in-tune with life, with God, with the silent truths that
Unconditionally soothe the soul. And when you believe, you are
Passionate and valiant - with all your heart, mind, and soul -
You give the best hugs and the softest kisses.
You understand my faults, truly, for you listen, and
Since you listen to who you are, you know, and you
Listen to who and how I am, you find your way to optimize
With the patience of an angel of water. I look in your eyes
And see confidence in who you are, how you are with God.
I hold your hand, and dance with you anywhere. You are
Not afraid to love and give all your soul. For you, I will give all
I have, all I can ever be for together - we glorify God, we
Glorify love. I look Into your eyes and find peace, you soothe my soul
And comfort me when I'm lost. And on your toughest days,
You've already earned the right to make any mistakes and be
Instantly forgiven, for with us, it's safe. I will never let you go.
I have dreamed of you all my life, and suffered infinitely without you
Wondering if there was no hope. For I would rather be alone
A lost wanderer, than to be with the wrong person, wondering where you are.
I pray to God that we will complete eachother, you are already within me
I'm within you, yet we have not discovered eachother yet.
you are poetry

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Re: Therapy Poetry

Postby olson29 » Fri Feb 13, 2015 5:11 pm

He wrote down 1,000 words and still did not find the ones he liked,
broken down by his situation, by this needing to be done and that
needing to be done, he finished them and travelled far away until
there was more that had to be done, cycle repeated in a new-old place.
He stopped believing in his destiny, started waking up to do things in order
to go into a more tragic sleep, feeling like he wasn't doing anything.
One day, he will escape this civilization cycle perpetuation, but will it be too late.
It's almost forever nothing will ever change, almost too late. There was a home so full of life,
so magnificent, with fresh flowers, fresh vegetables and fruit,
fragrances leapt into fragrances to sing songs of jubilee, love did the most
sacred things to life unto life(, or maybe this place
never existed, a dream to help or hurt in equally potent ways.) Yet, now,
the home is empty, the wood that supported the home has broken apart
barely hanging on. There is a bridge to the heart that needs to be rebuilt, is it too late?
you are poetry

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olson29
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Re: Therapy Poetry

Postby olson29 » Sun Feb 15, 2015 4:13 am

Black lake water sings to her muse, the sky and moon.
She breaks over and over again, losing and gaining - everything.
Purple lupins grow and dance with travelling water and wind
able to feel the eyes and rhythm of the lake as
it becomes blue, and clear reflecting it's depths into the whole sky.
A teenager becoming an adult or an adult deeping it's appreciation
and awareness for nature, connects with the cycles and metaphors
of rain, evaporation, spring mountain waterfalls strong from winter,
how there is a silent music amongst all this, as if the moon and water
only have eachother, and the water in the lake is also the 80-90%
of water inside a human body. The dance, and humility in the changing
colours of the water, not needing to show off it's depths, yet to let the sky,
the moon, the sun, see it's own beauty, and by doing that becoming even more beautiful.
you are poetry

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Re: Therapy Poetry

Postby olson29 » Sun Feb 15, 2015 4:13 am

Black lake water sings to her muse,
the sky and moon. She breaks over
and over again, losing and gaining - everything.

Purple lupins dance as they grow with travelling
water and wind able to feel the eyes and
rhythm of it's lake. Lilies and Lupins gain
parts of droplets beyond the boundaries
of shores, walls, and floors, because water
can give all she can for the life around her.

She becomes than hues, more than water,
more than hydrogen or oxygen as passions
from earth and sky unite. Somewhere,
a teenager becoming an adult or an adult
deepening it's appreciation and awareness
for nature, connects with the cycles and
metaphors of a body of water, how
it becomes what it is. Some souls illuminate

on a more vivid consciousness and bliss on
meditations of rain, evaporation, and
how spring mountain waterfalls become
strong from winter, from stillness, as
they river into a lake, and how
there is a silent music amongst all this,
no matter how loud it gets. All the
water anywhere is one with the water within you.

There is a dance, an infinite muse, a source
of unconditional love, and an ultimate humility
for those brave enough to give uninhibited
thanks to the water, the art and wonder.

Beyond gender, beyond others, beyond fears,
and within you, your life, and your need for
nature, for food and water for survival, for love;
to understand the very essence within you,
you can listen to the water, as it sings,
within you and all around you (which is also
within you). Silence becomes the sound
of enlightenment to the absolute. We listen
to the silent water, letting it soothe our whole being.

This water, this life, it must fill the bottom, the low
of lows in order to reach the top and become deeper.
This water, this life, it must have ripples and waves
it must have silence and stillness in order to master
sound and movement, it must be itself in order to exude peace.

The black lake water that sings to it's muse
the sky and moon, is a representative of all water,
like the blood in your veins. She reflects the beauty
around it because she receives it, embracing every subtlety.
you are poetry

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olson29
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Re: Therapy Poetry

Postby olson29 » Tue Mar 10, 2015 11:45 am

it was not my day...
nothing turned out the way we hoped...

but the importent thing is,
there are people who love me,
just as i am...
its great to have them around me,
to be able to call them, visit them
and let them hug me...

to embrace their love,
and notice that they love me,
even when im small and a bit sad

-w
you are poetry


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