a word that is lost – I am lost in all the words – my silence has wings – © Lize Bard @
Source: Misplaced word
a word that is lost – I am lost in all the words – my silence has wings – © Lize Bard @
Source: Misplaced word

Every morning anew
Forever changing skies grey or blue
Rain or snow, it can be plain and dull
Fulfilling, exhilarating, heart racing amazing and full.
Of life…
Open eyes to wonder and ponder the vastness
Alas this beauty spans our atlas
Sometimes we cry and fret, shortly forget; another step
To be free once again and play pretend with our friends
Remember our mistakes and make amends
You can’t turn back time so take each step…
Discover ourselves, inside the soul that we dwell
Grasping aspirations and fascinations
We are alive in this grace, I’m grateful
This is why life is amazing.
We all are awakened.
Nina
An interesting thought.
I’m content in my body n that’s cool cause like… I was a boy once
I am rambling because one must ramble as a writer.
Cooking is a delight, I do it with love.
I miss the summertime when I fell in love, although I never fell out it was a beautiful time.
The never-ending sunshine I had the tan of a goddess, bikini on constantly.
Now it rains and seemingly only rains, it will pass.
I do a lot of art to keep my mind preoccupied by this weather prison.
What am I even rambling about and why are you reading this?
Go home.
Nina
I’m beautiful with Audacity, “They call you Shade?!” He said. ” You’re shaded indeed…”. She’s nice with the raps. In depth, the homies in disguise he liked to say…
I’m up many hours before the sunrise to explore myself. Dreaming of fleeting escape, no longer trapped. The raindrops scatter my city and it won’t be long before I’m unseen in the masses; trainbound. You don’t need fare for the Zion train just hop on board.
I’m beautiful with audacity indeed. I love my markers and spray paint; my skateboard and my slap sticker collection of winking flowers and dripping calligraphy. My magnum markers leave them to manage the damage; I’m constantly redecorating the City.
I’ve found my comfort in the dark places and euphoric ignorance. Through the streets and alleyways, trains and buses. I watch this shit twists and turns over many years amongst this science of drug trade and gentrification . It doesn’t take long to be immune to the needles scattered along the pathways, human feces and drug trade swap meets. We got it. And it’s all for sale.
“Come here girl…”.
I found my home in the streets at a young age; my concrete playground. I’ve found… something… I see something. The streets are yours was the message written along the tattered wall. I want nothing from it, perhaps peace or a sense of purpose. Surely not money nor a drug rush, I have left such in the past.
Just “Be easy going,”.
Nina
In a sense I am lost; feeling childlike in constant exploring of earth and oneself. I am, in a sense found; by my morality with love…and with compassion… I find myself restless in time, for time is complex. The mind cannot comprehend time nor comprehend anything in completeness. The Tao of existence unwordable, incomprehensible…
We are not all knowing beings but the fabric of existence has underlying comfort whether it is productive or not. Even terrible mistakes create great lessons. The child knows love most, your inner child craves it.
Life is complex in a mathematical sense but extremely simple in the aspect of conscious thought.
That being all that we have.
I trust this universe more than I trust myself. I say this in a sense that I do not feel in control, but the rain outside my window… it is bringing life to the earth; as is the sun, moon and the stars. Endless bounded in infinity… ; that is something I can trust. Allowing the universe to take control helps me in meditations and allowing what I cannot change.
Simplicity is bliss and sometimes in my childlike absence of self awareness, like when I draw a picture I am not drawing a picture. If I am absent and I perhaps simply am: the picture.
But as my inner child finishes the creation.
I must return to the grounding incomprehensible earth.
Here I am again.
-Nina
the seasons repeat – I find myself grounded in – these simple words
Source: Writing haiku
A dormant seed in your soul awaits the water of life.
-Nina
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Butterfly….
I’m that butterfly;
I’m that beautiful butterfly.
Pink, purple,
yellow and black.
I’m that butterfly you can’t catch,
just watch in awe.
Fluttering into nothingness.
I’m that butterfly whom rises from earth.
Into the sky; rising rebirth.
-Nina
There once lived a great warrior. Though quite old, he still was able to defeat any challenger. His reputation extended far and wide throughout the land and many students gathered to study under him. One day an infamous young warrior arrived at the village. He was determined to be the first man to defeat the great master. Along with his strength, he had an uncanny ability to spot and exploit any weakness in an opponent. He would wait for his opponent to make the first move, thus revealing a weakness, and then would strike with merciless force and lightning speed. No one had ever lasted with him in a match beyond the first move. Much against the advice of his concerned students, the old master gladly accepted the young warrior’s challenge. As the two squared off for battle, the young warrior began to hurl insults at the old master. He… |
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