Lê Vĩnh Tài | IT’S SIMPLE, IT’S THE ONE BY OUR SIDE (286)

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By Lê Vĩnh Tài, translated by Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm

IT’S SIMPLE, IT’S THE ONE BY OUR SIDE

no face, nothing but
a crown of flowers
softly scented

sometimes there are echo of us in dreams
verses of poetry

sometimes we hear in our dreams
the intimate words of the one by our side

did you know that tonight
we’ll light a red candle
the saddest poems
in puffs of smoke
by our side

the echo of the guitar sometimes
cut short
the intimate whispers sometimes so desire
out of nowhere the falling stars
silent
the smoke on the candle still

it’s simple, it’s someone by our side
waiting for the wind
to redo the button of forgotten memories
___

ĐƠN GIẢN CHỈ LÀ NGƯỜI NGỒI BÊN

chẳng phải gương mặt
chỉ hoa trên tóc
dịu dàng thơm

đôi khi chúng ta vang trong mơ
những câu thơ

đôi khi…

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Core Strengthening For Easing Back Pain

Mws R Writings

These lower back exercises from sports medicine doctor Jordan Metzl, M.D., can help fix or prevent nagging spasms, discomfort, and achiness in your lower back.
https://img-s-msn-com.akamaized.net/tenant/amp/entityid/BB1f9XmV.img?h=402&w=799&m=6&q=60&o=f&l=f

These 6 Core-Strengthening Exercises Help Ease Lower Back Pain (msn.com)


Your core muscles—not just your abdominals, but the muscles that wrap around your midsection—support your spine and lower back. And your core, hips, glutes, and hamstrings together form one big stability machine, so weakness in any one of those muscles forces the others to take up the slack. 

https://www.bicycling.com/

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It’s My Time

NanoGraphy

No matter what the clock says,
It’s my time,
And I will,
No matter whatever’s happened,
Conquer my demons,
That reside within the inner mechanisms
Of my mind.
I just need to open it up,
Like I would a clock,
And clean it from inside,
With some soft brush and
Dust out the layers of naysayers
That have tied my hands.
Once dusted,
You’ll see how
My clock works
Tick tock,
Ready to walk,
And find my flock.

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Under the Sheets, In My Head

Raw Earth Ink

I pull the sheets up to my chin. There are monsters here, but they aren’t out there. No, they reside within. Snapping their powerful jaws and flexing their pointed claws. They dig inside my brain and find all the worst parts of me.

“You will never be more than a smear beneath the boot the Others.” Don’t worry, you don’t have to tell me twice. I know I will never measure up. I know I’ll never be enough. I know I’m pathetic and weak and strange. You aren’t telling me anything I don’t already believe.

I check the knobs on the stove once, twice, better check them again. You can only scrub the dirt off these hands for so long. Door locked? It doesn’t help. Neither do these sheets. It’s all within. Don’t bother digging around, I’ve seen it all before.

Still, I grip the sheets tighter and squeeze my…

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Let her hands

***** MATURE MATERIAL*****

A Faded Romantic's Notebook

She has let her hands

wander all over

her body

as if they belonged

to a lover

to a writer

to a teacher

to a priest

to an angel

to the devil

to her Master.

As if they belonged

to a stranger.

As if they belonged

to me.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Not new. But always new.

Art by Patrice Murciano

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Every Now And Then – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

parallax

Photo: found at il5.picdn.net via Bing

“Man [sic] is troubled not by events, but by the meaning he gives to them.” Epictetus

Every Now And Then Every now and then suspicion arises that something is wrong, shockwaves course through me as electromagnetic feedback, exposing the delicate tension of unthinkable questions of risk, knowing that the cracks cannot become profound wallpaper. Shockwaves course through me as electromagnetic feedback, a visible lament which gives and elegant glimpse of implications, knowing that the cracks cannot become profound wallpaper, the consequence of the blindness of isolated privilege. A visible lament which gives an elegant glimpse of implications increasingly woven from a variety of unstoppable reasons, the consequence of the blindness of isolated privilege that consumes every category of memoried construct as real. Increasingly woven from a variety of unstoppable reasons, exposing the delicate tension of unthinkable questions of risk that consumes every category…

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