SimplyGoodPoetry

Within the boundless realm of existence, we stand as mere mortals, wrestling with a sense of entitlement, convinced that the world is indebted to us merely for our presence. But do we truly deserve praise and glory, for simply occupying space and breathing? Or is it a relentless pursuit, a race with no finish line in sight, a mirage we can never grasp? Our desires are insatiable, we crave more and more, Our yearnings, boundless as the starry night, In ceaseless pursuit of endless delight. Lands vast and treasures untold. We accumulate and accumulate, trying to make the emptiness whole. A comical display of our trivial vanities, and insatiable greed. What's the point of all this gettin'? To win some praise, some fleeting cheer, For all our shiny trinkets and treasures, Before we say goodbye and disappear? Beneath the soil, we shall return to dust, Our bodies, mere sustenance for the worms, As nature reclaims what was always hers. Shouldn’t we yearn for something else, a

We are all one thing Everyone is everything We’re one entity

In the quietude of midnight, when stars hang like lanterns in the celestial tapestry, I seek the language of the void. The moon, a silver coin tossed across the cosmic expanse, whispers secrets to the wind. Its craters, ancient scars, tell tales of forgotten gods. I walk barefoot on dew-kissed grass, my mortal feet tracing patterns of constellations long extinct. The night sky, an inkwell spilled, holds the musings of eternity. I ask the stars: “Are we but stardust dreaming? Do we carry the echoes of distant quasars in our bones?” The silence answers, a cosmic sigh woven into existence. I am both particle and wave, observer and observed, a fleeting spark in the cosmic dance. The black holes yawn, hungry for knowledge, swallowing light and time. I stretch my arms toward infinity, grasping at the edges of existence. Perhaps the answers lie in the spaces between atoms, in the resonance of pulsars, in the curvature of spacetime. Or perhaps they elude us, forever dancing just beyond

Unfolding memories, like a weird movie, play within my mind— A reel that refuses to unwind, looping selective imagery. A dance of repetition, certain words and phrases collide, Worlds entangled, a vortex in time. Places shift, yet remain the same, Discriminatory pauses etched into my brain. Programmed, perhaps, or a code to break one day, Deja vu, each moment old yet new. What does it mean, this tangled thread of existence? Sensing another plain, a whisper of elsewhere. Listen closely to the echoes, the unspoken truths, Messages to ourselves, unread, awaiting revelation. Can we decode our own essence before we past, Or is that knowledge reserved for another place and time? In the silence, let us listen, for within lies the key, Unlocking the mystery of our souls. Each memory a piece of the puzzle, A fragment of the past that shapes our present. A mirror reflecting our innermost fears and desires, A map leading us to our true selves. Embrace the weirdness, the

Beneath the sun's golden gaze, we stand, Earth's children, rooted in ancient soil. As spring's tender breath awakens the land, A dance of renewal, a sacred coil. This the time of balance between day and night, light and darkness O moon rabbit, keeper of cycles yurning Your soft fur glows in the silver light, as you bound through the sacred grove. Eyes reflecting ancient secrets, bright, Guiding us toward rebirth, hope, and love. Rabbits, nimble and elusive, traverse the earth’s surface with ease. Some say they carry messages from the departed, their ears attuned to secrets whispered by spirits. When the veil between worlds thins, the rabbit’s presence grows stronger. From all eggs, a universe unfolds, A promise cradled in fragile shells, Life's mystery, a tale yet untold, In the alchemy of birth, we dwell. O Egg, vessel of beginnings profound, In your curved embrace, we find our way, From darkness to light, we are unbound, Guided by the equinox's gentle sway. Spring's

Right place, wrong time For another rhyme Beautiful flame With life to blame For the promised pain The heavy gray rain The end that's in sight The dawn that turns to night

The facade breaking Splintering, Crumbling, Burning Man steps into light German version: Die Fassade bricht Splitternd, Bröckelnd und Brennend Der Mensch tritt hervor

I'm always alone. In a room full of people I'm invisible.

In the vast silence of the snow, a lone figure stands defiant, A monument of resilience, not easily vanquished. The winter's savage breath and frost, conspire in a whirlwind, menacing his existence, yet he stands tall, unswerving. The piercing cold, like uncertainties, that lurk and latch, The squalls, like destiny's cruel shifts, that thrust and challenge us. Yet amidst the tempest's ruthless bite, the soul battles to witness another day, For within this icy instant, grim and grave, the human essence blazes with yearning. To outlive the gale, to ascend and not falter, To brave the nature's wrath, to rise and not waver, In a duel with fate’s relentless mire Thus, the silhouette persists, steadfast and valiant, a signal of fortitude, existence's value to defend. Against all adversity, a trail they etch and shape, at the heart of the snowstorm, they stand unyielding, For existence is the squall, and we are the blaze, wavering, indeed, but persisting all the same. And akin to the