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he wasn’t there for the glory,hell, no one writes ballads for the painted fool.the cowboy gets the buckle,the bull gets the legend,and he…he gets the hoof printacross the ribs. painted face,a drunk Picasso of red and white,sweat carving little rivers through the grease.he laughs for the crowd,but he ain’t laughingwhen the bull swings its…
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Today we pause, beneath late-summer skies,to honor the hands, the hearts, the steady eyes.The builders, the dreamers, the keepers of flame,the nameless, the countless, who shoulder the same. They rise with the dawn, when the streets are still,to hammer, to heal, to craft, to till.Invisible often, yet always in view,the world keeps turning because…
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Coconut Muse | The Dancer in the Sand Sometimes paradise isn’t a place at all, it’s a moment, a person, a fire that builds until the night itself surrenders. This is the story of love’s slow burn, of passion found under moonlit skies, and of a woman who turned the sand into a stage…
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Stone Guardian’s Love Letter I’ve been up here for centuries,watching your roofs change shape,your towers grow taller,your streets trade horses for engines,and your engines for lightning.I was carved out of the church’s worry,a monster to scare off the night.But the truth is, I love the night.I love this city when the darklays its heavy…
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“The Sea Knows Your Name” – A Poem and Reflection By The Coconut Muse The Poem A whisper in the canvas, a heave in the hull,The sea is a sermon, steady and dull. Skies wear the weight of a world not yet cried,While mountains brood silent, with secrets to hide. The sailboat leans like…
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In a world that spins too fast,where headlines scream and time slips past,there is a sacred kind of gracethe stillness found in your own space. Not silence, but a deeper tone,the voice that hums when you’re alone,when morning light paints soft your skin,and all the noise is drawn within. Find it in the steam…
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I went down to the edge of the sea,where the world hushes and the sky kneels lownot seeking answers, only stillness.But there, amid the rhythm of the waves,I found a voice too ancient to name. Each wave spoke in psalms,not of thunder, but of gracerolling forward with the patience of eternity,retreating like a whispered…
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There comes a time, quiet, slow…when the noise of the world no longer stirs you,when the chase loses its thrill,and you begin to wonderwhat it really meansto be alive. Not to exist.Not to survive.But to live.Fully.Fiercely.With wonder burning behind your eyes. Because peace…real peaceisn’t handed down like a gift.It’s carved,soul-first,from chaos.From heartbreak and stillness,from…
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It began with footprints… mine, then gone.Washed away by a tide that seemed to knowhow to take what I never meant to give. The sea, wide-eyed and glistening,offered no apology, only silenceand the hush of waves pulling secretsinto the folds of its ancient skirt. I had come here hollow,salt-stung with a loneliness I couldn’t…
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Press your ear to the curling cathedral of the seaa whelk shell, spiraled like time wound tightin the palm of your hand. Inside, it sings. Not merely the hush of ocean breath,but a symphony of forgotten tongues,laced with tide-born secretsand lullabies the moon once hummedto sleeping mermaids. There are voices therenot loud, but layered.A…