Tag Archives: poem

Listen for the applause 

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Listen for the Applause By C L Cunningham 
The eyes are the windows into the soul but what if I don’t have one anymore?

I believe I gave it away the day that my demons came to hunt to me.

The day I screamed for you but nobody was there.

The day I cried for love and received regret. 

No humor is found when all that’s left is a mouth that’s bond and a heart left a wreck.

Check for my pulse if you dare to care to see if I’m alright.

I’m alive in the flesh but dead in the spirit so I seem to be floating on air. 

Praise be to the most high elevations of the collective mind power.

For twisting the words of the book to make pretty pictures in the sky.

Pretty words for pretty girls with good girl demeanors and vixen thoughts. 

Blessed be us that are sacrifices for the imaginations of the sadist storytellers of our time.

Why wine when you are fine. Nothing on you is touched beyond the reach of rainbows and sunshine, so smile.

You’re on the biggest stage of your existence and you know you belong where the audience is bigger and the gifts are supposed to be the rewards. 

Peace be with you on the journey for strength and conformation.

  
Picture courtesy of Paregorics/Tumblr

Late bird

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Sitting on my couch listening to the late night response to daybreak.

A bird chirping outside my door.

Giving life to the ghetto. Singing songs of praises for making it through another day.

Perched on the tree of life reminding me even though nothing stays the same.

That some things never change.

C. L Cunningham

Happy to be back blog world!

Wishing you a peaceful night and a sweet tomorrow.

Photo courtesy of Cazadora de Fotos

Mind twist 

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Psychedelic tunnels and supersonic dreams. 

That time when everyone and everything got stuck between a voice.

 

Was it from the heavens above or the hell below? 

It’s never really easy to know when the world is hazy. 

And being crazy starts to be more fun than staying sane. 

Trained up the mind hoping the heart would follow. 

  

Turns out that the heart has a mind of its own. 

Resounding scream of a parallel tale. Turned a heartfelt dream into a fairytale.
C.L Cunningham 

Poet 

Photos courtesy of 


Touch of reflection 

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What is touch? I mean really touching. I know it can be considered an action and I know it can be considered a feeling. I guess I’m just wanting it to be so much more. 

  
An emotional response to the need of something. The need to feel or to be felt. Intellectually or physically. The need to go a step further. 

Life is full of exceptions. It can be twisted and turned into whatever the mind’s eye desires at the time.

When I learned that today’s question was what touch am I grateful for. I had to pause and think. I’m grateful for touch being a multi dimensional concept. 

  
From the touch of fingers to the touch of the heart. From the touch of emotions to a touch of irrational perception just before falling apart. From the tips of my hands to the lips on my face. The touch of a memory that I just can’t erase. 

  
Today I’m going to let words become my favorite touch of passion. 

Here’s a digital poem that I wrote. I hope it touches your soul. 

  
C. L Cunningham 

Here’s to the weekend 🌹
Photos courtesy of https://www.pinterest.com/pin/148970700153947608/

Video by Adobe Spark 

Pinterest 

Laundered soul

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Dirty secrets of a filthy world. 

 Oh how I need to feel washed free of the sins of the skin. 

 Once again I put the cycle on spin and imagine myself covered in bubbles of redemption. Laundering the information of my mind to twinkle and shine.✨

  

C. L Cunningham 

Poet 

Fairytales and demons

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Once upon a time I was a lonely girl living in an empty hearted castle. I thought Love would chase away the rain and cover the pain that I was feeling. 

  
Conversations with a vision of hope gave me guidance and an outlet. 

Wishing of rainbows and positivity brings me peaceful nights while the earth has grown cold. There’s no warmth when it’s all glittering in ice.

  
Demons dance away in my dreams playing ring around the rosy with my soulful harmony. They ask me to dance with them so I do. 

Few heavenly voices replace my fear of flying they take me by the hand as I wave to my playmates and take my consciousness higher. 

Perched on tree branch I sit. 

I never returned to that castle. I packed up my dreams and my things to bid it a farewell. 

  
In the meadowlands of gratitude I roam free to find myself and the love that I truly want to see. 
C. L Cunningham 

Poetry in motion 🌹

Photos courtesy of https://www.pinterest.com/pin/AfcFJI9NrdWJUs6Ar8HIO7C5GUTaCYhnNETCzApxEmy3rn2ILpVU7w4/

Illusion’s presence 

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Life’s light turned on the presence of illusion. There in that bright glow everything started to grow. As the past started to fade away. Darkness became the color of emotions feeding life with love. 

C. L Cunningham 

Poetry in motion 

Photo courtesy of Instagram @artthoupsychedelic 

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